#but they are all very definitely side characters

[cherrynflowergarden]

જ⁀➴ this is why we can't have nice things || matt sturniolo

sturniolo masterlist taglist

the kitchen smelled of ginger and cinnamon as matt stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, carefully squeezing icing onto a gingerbread wall. she was beside him, painstakingly placing little candy decorations in a neat line.

“alright, what’s the plan here?” matt asked, glancing at the pile of candy she insisted on using. “we’re making a cute little house,” she said, voice laced with determination. “it’s a gingerbread mansion with the amount of candy you bought, darling.” he teased, smirking as he popped a gumdrop into his mouth.

before she could respond, chris barged into the kitchen, a can of pepsi in hand. “yo, what are you guys doing? trying to win a baking competition or something?”

“trying to build a house,” matt replied, emphasizing trying as the roof he’d just placed slid off.

chris laughed, leaning against the counter. “you need my expert advice?” “not unless you want icing in your hair,” matt shot back playfully, though there was a serious glint in his eyes.

nick appeared next, his curiosity piqued by the commotion. “what’s going on? oh, this is gonna collapse in like two seconds.”

“it’s not collapsing,” she protested, glaring at him as she added a little green wreath to the front door. “it’s going to be perfect.”

nick raised an eyebrow. “define perfect.”

“nick, go away,” matt muttered, though he was grinning now, caught between annoyance and amusement.

nick didn’t leave, of course. instead, he grabbed a piece of gingerbread from the “extra” pile and started munching. “i’m just saying, this isn’t very structurally sound.”

chris grabbed the icing bag from matt. “i’ll show you how it’s done.”

ten minutes later, the kitchen was a disaster zone. icing was everywhere—on the counter, on the floor, and somehow even in nick’s hair. candy was scattered like confetti, and the gingerbread house was leaning precariously to one side.

chris stood back, proudly admiring his handiwork. “i think it adds character.”

“you mean chaos,” nick muttered, wiping icing off his sleeve on chris’ shirt to which the later yelled about.

matt sighed, looking at the mess with his hands on his hips. then he turned to his girlfriend, a smirk tugging at his lips. “at least it’s better than the one they’d make on their own.”

“definitely,” she agreed, laughing as she swiped some icing onto matt’s cheek. “hey!” he grabbed a handful of flour and dusted it over her head in retaliation, making her squeal. nick and chris watched the madness unfold, both shaking their heads.

“this is why we can’t have nice things.” chris said, grinning.

an; heh the title doesn't match at all but it's okay :3 it's 24 dec for me so enjoy this little christmas gift from meeeee i have more ideas and i might just post them :)

tags; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-bell @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf @blahbel668 @my-dinos-life-is-good @ssturniolo92 @lilly6110 @lou-larcher5 @arminluvrr @mxryxmfooty @gabri3la-sturns @bellsboops @f1-and-shiz @emely9274 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @unx100to @strnlslut

@mattslovergirlie @sarakpalsd @sweetobservationface @shadowthesim @mattslolita @cupiidk1lls @urloveanaa @t1llysblog @meatball10 @fiowerbeds

[delulustateofmind]

JJK x Reader: Christmas Edition

Just a few headcannons for the holidays!

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, & Shoko

TW: FLUFF!

WC: 1.1k (short and sweet!)

A/n: Happy holidays everyone! Hope you all are having an amazing day and get to take time for yourselves. Thank you for all the love this year, appreciate you all!

Gojo

 Gojo is absolutely terrible at wrapping presents, and he knows it. He either gets them wrapped at the department store (when available) or just throws everything into festive bags with bows slapped on top. He’s the type to put way too much tape on a box if he does attempt wrapping—it’s endearing, really.

He loves spending Christmas with your family. It’s not that he dislikes his own—it’s just… complicated. Being surrounded by warmth and laughter is something he craves, even if he doesn’t say it outright. He’s like a big kid, buying way too many gifts for everyone but not knowing them well enough to make them personal. So instead, he turns it into a family-wide white elephant exchange, just to see everyone smile. (Also likes to playfully gossip with your family about you, LOVES to see the baby pictures, steals them and takes em home)

What he treasures most, though, is spending time with you. He thrives on simple moments—baking cookies together (where he definitely makes a mess), snuggling under a blanket to watch cheesy holiday movies, or stealing kisses under the mistletoe when no one’s looking. If he’s called out on a mission, his frustration is palpable, but he always makes it up to you with warm pastries, hot coffee, and an even warmer smile the next morning.

When it comes to gifts, Gojo is surprisingly sentimental. Handmade presents? He melts. There’s something about knowing you put effort and love into it that makes his heart ache in the best way. And when you both have kids one day, he’s all-in on the Santa act. He’ll dress up, bellow “Ho, ho, ho!” with way too much enthusiasm, and take an embarrassing amount of photos to show off to his students. Watching your kids’ faces light up on Christmas morning? That’s his favorite part of the holiday. He absolutely melts when they make him things, best believe he is wearing that macaroni necklace.

Geto

Geto doesn’t trust anyone else to wrap his gifts. He’s so meticulous about it—crisp corners, perfectly aligned patterns, and just the right amount of ribbon. It’s almost frustrating how good he is at it. (If you wrap something bad, like a single wrinkle bad, best believe that present is tucked in the very BACK of the tree and he just smiles when you ask about it)

He’s also the best gift giver. The kind who remembers that one thing you mentioned in passing months ago. Need a specific book? Done. Want to try crochet? Here’s an entire set, complete with a personalized guide he wrote himself. It’s never about the cost with him—it’s about the thought behind it.

Christmas Eve with him is peaceful. After the twins are fast asleep, you and Geto sit by the tree, wrapping gifts together. He’s quietly focused, assembling the big surprise gift for the girls—a playset, a dollhouse, something that requires way too many tiny screws. You laugh at how serious he gets, his brows furrowed as he carefully places every sticker. Between tasks, you talk. About life, about dreams, about how far you’ve come together. He enjoys the little life you both created. His little hallmark movie.

If your family is welcoming, he’s happy to visit with the girls. He’s a little reserved at first but softens quickly when he sees how much they’re loved. Still, his favorite Christmases are the intimate ones, just the four of you. The girls bring out a side of him that’s so gentle, so tender. He wants to give them the childhood he never had—filled with warmth and joy.

On Christmas morning, he’s in the kitchen flipping pancakes shaped like stars, hearts, and (attempted) snowmen. His laugh is soft but full when the girls giggle at his less successful attempts. The whole day is dedicated to family activities—decorating cookies, building gingerbread houses, and playing with new toys. At the end of the day, when the house is quiet again, he pulls you close, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Would be the type to propose on Christmas, he'd hide it in the tree or something. Asking you to come look at some random ornament only for you to look back at him on one knee. (Would do this when the girls are little so you both can have the perfect little flower girls)

Nanami

Nanami doesn’t mind wrapping gifts, but he just doesn’t have the time. The department store option is quick and efficient, so he takes it without a second thought.

He’s incredibly thoughtful when it comes to gifting. He always finds something that feels just right—a piece of jewelry that matches your style, a book you’ve been eyeing, or tickets to a show you casually mentioned once. He follows the “one big gift, one small gift” rule, careful not to go overboard, but everything he chooses feels like it was made for you.

Your family adores him. Even if you aren’t married yet, they’ve already claimed him. His stocking hangs next to yours, and your relatives fight over who gets to sit next to him at dinner. (Everybody wonders how you snagged such a good man) It’s heartwarming to see him so at ease, his usual stoicism softened by the warmth of your family’s love.

As for receiving gifts, Nanami values thoughtfulness over extravagance. He’s the type to sit quietly while you explain why you chose his gift, his gaze steady and full of affection. “You’re so thoughtful,” he says, his voice low and warm, “it means more to me than you know.” He's not the type to show emotion during gifts however so sometimes he has you questioning whether he actually likes it or not.

On Christmas morning, over breakfast, he lets himself dream aloud. “I can just imagine little ones running into the room, waking us up with their excitement,” he says, his lips curving into a rare, tender smile. When you do have kids, he’s exactly as you imagined—a doting father who loves every chaotic, joy-filled moment. Watching them tear into their presents, hearing their laughter, and cuddling up as a family on Christmas Eve—it’s everything to him. So much that he'll ask for another next Christmas.

Shoko 

Shoko isn’t big on holidays, but she’ll indulge for you. The festive spirit isn’t something she naturally gravitates toward, but seeing you light up makes it worth it.

She doesn’t wrap gifts—it’s just not her thing. Instead, she hands you an envelope with an experience inside—a luxurious trip, an all-inclusive cruise, or a spa day. “Merry Christmas,” she says with a smirk, pressing a kiss to your lips.

She’s not big on gifts for herself, but she treasures whatever you give her, whether it’s a handmade scarf or a store-bought trinket. She’ll smile, soft and genuine, and pull you into a hug. “You spoil me,” she murmurs, but there’s nothing but gratitude in her voice.

Shoko loves quality time. She’s not much of a homebody, so she’ll take you out to see Christmas lights, holding your hand the entire time. She’s quiet but content, stealing glances at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

Kids aren’t something she sees for herself. After everything she’s witnessed, the idea of raising a potential sorcerer terrifies her. Instead, the two of you pour your love into the students, making sure they feel cared for during the holidays.

On cold winter mornings, she’s impossible to get out of bed. She wraps herself around you, burying her face in your neck, and groans when you suggest getting up. “Five more minutes,” she pleads, her voice muffled against your skin. It’s in these quiet, intimate moments that she lets her walls down completely, because you make her feel human, despite everything she has to do. 

[megwritesriddles]

Christmas as friends with Tom Riddle ༊*·˚

Word count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Authors note: Another one of these odd structure mini fics. Riddle is DEFINITELY out of character in this sorry, but Christmas is fluff time, I don't make the rules. This was originally going to be a series of scenarios with Riddle at various relationship stages, but of course the next one I wrote turned into a beast (friends with benefits), so here's this while I finish the other. Whatever this is, I hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You are patrol partners

Because of this, you’ve formed an unlikely friendship

You mainly discuss impersonal topics while you walk; homework, new research in potions publications, the latest news in the Daily Prophet (Riddle particularly likes to discuss crime reports), policies passed by the Minister of Magic, or the occasional morsel of student gossip that Riddle doesn’t feel ‘above’ discussing

He’s thrilled that you can keep up with him intellectually (for the most part) even if you often find yourselves disagreeing on things

He likes to get your perspective and opinions more and more these days

It often feels like the two of you are very close, until you try to recall any detail about him beyond extremely surface level information

He keeps himself entirely hidden from you

Whenever you try to get to know him more personally, he shuts down

Even things that seem innocuous

“Yes! I promise that really is a saying!” you chuckle as he teases you for using a seemingly silly idiom.

“I don’t give a Doxy’s nip? Really?” he imitates, pinching your arm playfully to emphasise the words, briefly glancing into the small alcove you pass to check for any rulebreakers.

“Yes! Have you seriously never heard that before? Where did you grow up?” you giggle. Suddenly he tenses up, his small smile falling off of his face. He’s silent, ignoring your very normal question in favour of intently staring down the corridor, hoping to find a student sneaking around just to change the focus. You frown in confusion. You were used to him shutting down if asked about family, or anything else potentially highly emotional, but just where he was from. It was a completely harmless question, in fact, you couldn’t really think of any answer that would have you react badly. You only wanted a town or a county, but now Riddle is walking faster, a sign that he wants to get your patrol over and done with, as opposed to his measured pace from just before. “I merely wanted a county, Tom,” you whisper as you trot to keep up with him, trying to ensure he knew you weren’t trying to pry. He’s silent for another long moment.

“London,” he puffs out. You wonder what on earth was so bad about that. “Don’t ask more,” he adds, still not looking at you or slowing down. Ah, so there was something painful or embarrassing in the details. You really couldn’t imagine what. You don’t ask any more, not wanting to upset him. Eventually, he slows back down to walk by your side, but very few words are spoken the rest of the patrol.

You like Riddle a lot, he’s witty and intelligent and has a wicked sense of humour

Not to mention HANDSOME

However, he’s quite odd in this way, he has many secrets

He seems more touchy when you ask questions since he knows you actually want to know him, not just be polite and small talk with him

His normal evasive answers would never cut it for you, so he shuts down

He knows plenty about you, you’re happy to speak about yourself and he absorbs what you say completely

Knowledge is power after all

Using this knowledge, he sends you a lovely personal Christmas card over the break, the time alone and away from you strengthening his fondness for the connection the two of you have built, making him more willing to make a gesture he never normally would make

It’s full of jokes and references he knows you’ll like, as well as a few rare expressions of gratitude for knowing you

You’re unable to write back, not knowing where to send your owl as he’s never told you where he’s from, the owl he sent having disappeared as soon as it was free of its card

You tell your owl to find Tom Riddle, but it returns the next day, looking very unhappy, your card still attached to its leg

“There you are!” you huff in exasperation when you finally locate him on the train on the way back to Hogwarts, alone in a compartment gazing out of the window. His handsome face turns to you, he looks tired, but otherwise as flawless as ever. 

“Why were you looking for me? I always sit alone on the train,” you can’t read his tone, annoyed or vulnerable? You press on, digging his card out from the front pocket of your bag and handing it to him.

“My owl couldn’t find you no matter what I told her, and I had no address, so late card it is,” you smile awkwardly. Riddle takes the card and opens it up as you sit beside him. It’s a classic wizarding world card, a moving image of some cats covered in tinsel. It’s a bit cheesy for Riddle’s liking and he makes a face, but you nudge him and he rolls his eyes, opening the card. He reads your sweet words silently, you expressing how much you’d like to know him better, and promises that you would not judge him no matter what his story was. He’s a little embarrassed as your writing reminds him how vulnerable he had been in his own card. He sighs and closes the card as you look at him expectantly.

“It’s hard for me to talk about,” he whispers.

“I figured that, you can take your time, so long as you let me in eventually,” you answer. “I just… I like you, I enjoy your company, I want to know something about you, something real,” you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. Though this move surprises him, he accepts it quietly, realising all too suddenly why it is you want so badly to know him inside and out. His arm sits loosely around your waist, feeling the knit pattern of your jumper under his fingertips. He doesn’t know how or why he’s fallen into this position with you so naturally, but instead of complaining, he just tightens his hold on you slightly.

“I spent Christmas at a muggle orphanage, that’s why your owl couldn’t find me,” he admits after a while. He interrupts before you can ask questions. “I grew up there, I’ve already aged out, but they let me stay there over Christmas due to Professor Dippett’s pressuring since no one could stay at Hogwarts this Christmas,” he takes a shaky breath. “I won’t be allowed back, not that I want to go, I’m on my own after graduation, no family, no other support, nowhere to stay,” you frown deeply at this and he stares out of the window as the grey countryside rushes by. “Perhaps you can see why I was embarrassed,”

“I can, but I don’t judge you for it,” you murmur sincerely, watching his side profile.

“I should have known, you’ve always been such a bleeding heart,” he scoffs with mock disdain, turning to look down at you where you rest on his shoulder. You roll your eyes and smile, he smiles back slightly. Leaning forward, he hesitantly presses his lips to your forehead. It’s a foreign gesture, but one that feels completely lovely to do. He holds you slightly closer and places another, slightly more sure kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for the card, for caring, I’m not used to any care beyond shallow fawning, and even that is completely misplaced,” he admits, the floodgates of his emotions now seemingly open. But you don’t run or even seem to judge, just as promised. “I’m not who anyone thinks I am, no one else knows about the orphanage, only a few professors, no one else knows anything”

“Let me meet the real you,” you mutter. He looks unsure. “Someone has to eventually or you won’t be able to keep up the act,”

“Maybe so,” he kisses your forehead gently once more. “But let me enjoy this first,”

“You think it will be over if I meet the real you?” you chuckle affectionately, enjoying as he kisses down your temple to your cheek. “Come on,” There’s a moments hesitation as he contemplates the real him.

He says nothing.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo Merry Christmas xoxoxo

[mysadcorner]

Hi, I'm your fan , I bother you with Dick Grayson x reader titans , on a mission she ends up very hurt and is in the hospital , dick takes care of her day and night , Dank goes to the hospital to visit where he tells Dick to let reader die to start over and Dick comes out to defend Reader.

Titans!Dick Grayson x Injured!Reader Headcanons

-Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted and read request rules -

Masterlist Navigation

Dick always worries about you and keeps you in the back of his mind when the two of you are out on patrol, as he always does. He's incredibly protective of his teammates or the people he works with especially as he instinctively falls into a leadership mindset even if everyone is on equal terms.

Seeing you get hurt would be heartbreaking for him, and he would definitely be panicking on the inside. No one was supposed to get hurt, and he's aware that what you all do is dangerous, but seeing it happen makes it feel even more real than just finding out about any injury you may have.

Even if the fight wasn't over straight away, he'd still rush you to the hospital as soon as he could, or to any kind of medical care he'd have ready. Despite the reason the two of you were out on patrol or taking care of some criminals, he'd turn all of his priorities to you.

Whenever he had free time, he'd be sitting by your side while you recovered, even if you weren't even awake to see him there. He might not talk much, but he will mumble little updates about your friends and team when you're awake enough to keep your attention on him just to ensure you're always included.

If the others tell him to leave you or to focus his attention on something else, he will get highly defensive about it and feel quite betrayed that they were so willing to dismiss the way he's been helping you. Not only are you important to him, perhaps more than anyone else, but he would spend his time with everyone else that he cares about in this situation. The fact that they may not realise that hurts him more than just asking him to leave you alone.

Dick is constantly checking up on you, no matter what stage you are in of your recovery. Whatever you need he'll be there to help, even if you just want his company. He's a busy man and has a lot of responsibilities, but even in his tired and irritated state, he'd rather sit with you instead of feeling guilty about not being there for you later on.

[verdemoth]

ok anyway. Spanner time!!! funny lil mirror-dreamworld false-sun snake autism changeling. Of all my flondon/sskies characters I think they're definitely having the most fun, they are just thriving and vibing forever. The High Wilderness is a playground full of such interesting flora with a lot of fascinating stories to tell!

After aging out of the Regiment gang, Spanner and Kerry spent some time on zailing crews. In the High Wilderness conflicts they pretty quickly sided with the Tacketies. Adaptable and surprisingly effective, they proved themselves very useful to the cause, albeit quite eccentric. The duo earned their shared position, after a few attempts to utilize their skillsets on separate crews proved that - as much as they tend to egg each other on in making impulsive reckless decisions - not having the other to balance them out creates disasters much worse for everyone involved!

Text Transcripts:

In the top left are some quick details. In the style of other Fallen London characters, Spanner's epithet is 'the Incandescent Mirror'. Spanner uses they/them mostly but also any other pronouns, they're around 20 years old and around 5 feet 6 inches tall. They're not human, but a mysterious one-of-a-kind Parabola hybrid. Their role is as co-captain of a Tackety locomotive.

Near the main illustration are these notes: "Spanner's penchant for wearing blue is a holdover from the uniforms of the Regiment, the urchin gang in which they grew up alongside their adoptive brother Kerry. Kerry is the other captain of their shared train, Spanner's best friend, and the basis for their human appearance."

Above the two panels of Spanner hissing with a cat is this note: "Cats and Spanner don't tend to get along... Felines always seem to recognize the 'Parabolan serpent' in them, and no amount of negotiation has ever convinced a cat that Spanner has absolutely no allegiance to any fingerkings. And no connection at all, probably."

The last notes are next to the illustrations of Spanner with their inner metalwork and sunshine showing + Spanner chatting with plants: "Beneath the human veneer is a skeleton of metal, glass, and cosmogone. Their body is malleable and fluid, able to take on new forms at will. Spanner's been 'human' for most of their life, so they're very used to and comfortable with this shape. Their first and other default resembles some sort of constricting snake. Anything radically different than these requires a lot of study and practice to convincingly mimic. They don't inherently know where the joints should be."

"Even when not visible, Spanner is constantly exuding cosmogone radiation. To humans, it's a little chillier than true sunlight. To plants, it's about as good as or better than the real deal, and fungi benefit too. It vastly enhances their growth, and they draw closer to hungrily feast on the raw energy. Spanner is content with this, given their fascination with all flora & funga."

"Through an innate, automatic ability to Absorb Ambient Vibes (taking in residual, surface level feelings/emotions/senses around them), Spanner is uniquely able to communicate with plantlife. They are VERY excited to be in the Reach, where growing things are so abundant, although... Reach flora tend to be quite intense and volatile, flourishing aggressively and clamouring for the slightest hint og sunlight. In Spanner's hands, a verdant seed becomes a bomb. Not that this will stop them from greeting the local greenery =)"

End of text transcripts.

[laniemae]

Out of the closet

I absolutely cannot get my mind off of Hiroaki coming out as gay so I had to draw this.

Analysis under cut

I have to much to think about this whole scene of Hiroaki coming out of the closet. Starting to think about it, you really come to understand just how important him being gay and closeted is to his character and backstory, especially being a celebrity in Japan.

At first when Hiroaki first admitted he liked guys I was absolutely over the moon, and frankly I still am but it became apparent quickly just how devastating the scene actually was on Hiroaki’s side. It’s clear that Hiroaki felt pressured to come out of the closet like that from how the conversation with Yanagi was escalating. With Yanagi accusing Hiroaki hooking up and dropping out of relationships with all these women for no reason and Hiroaki forcing to admit that the reason things were like that was because he’s gay. He was backed into a corner and forced to come out, even if that wasn’t Yanagi’s intention. Thankfully Yanagi was supportive and understand but Hiroaki’s first time coming out of the closet being in a way like this must’ve been really scary for him, and especially how he broke down crying at the end of the conversation. Because even if he was accepted in this one situation, the feeling of panic and having to admit a personal violation which if he was outside the killing game, would’ve stemmed the end for him, would’ve been incredibly traumatic.

Hiroaki is a celebrity, so the pressure to hide his homosexuality would’ve been even more intense than the average person. Due to the nature of homophobia in Japan, his job very much could’ve been on the line with him forcing to hide being gay. His management team has created out this image for him of him being a ladies man and womaniser constantly hooking him up with relationships with other popular girls. And Hiroaki only adheres to them from the idea of getting popular through followers and stuff. And I can definitely imagine that through hooking up and even sleeping with all these women he’s desperately trying to convince himself that he’s not gay and that it’ll pass in time. Even bragging to Yanagi over all these sexual relations he’s had with over ten women to keep up his image, even though he doesn’t truly care about it because he’s not into women, and never truly loved any of them. And it was only for appearances and PR. And maybe even during that time there could’ve been some rumours of him being gay circulating which could’ve furthered this.

I can’t imagine how uncomfortable it would’ve been for Hiroaki to live a comphet life ike this and Yanagi put this very well. Hiroaki wasn’t born into riches and had to work extremely hard to become the multi millionaire that he is and having the risk of losing all of that over people finding out that he’s gay, I could imagine how scary that would’ve been for him. And why he accepted to doing all this stuff. And in the end when he confessed to Yanagi that he likes guys instead of women, it was probably also him admitting it to himself in a way. That this is a major step in Hiroaki’s arc that has been stemming back for years in his life when he started to realise it.

All of this makes me think back to Hiroaki’s student spotlight near the beginning of chapter 2. Looking back to how he freaked out so much about those questions asking about his relationship with Ojima makes so much sense in retrospect now, knowing that he’s a closeted homosexual. And even though the questions asked weren’t directly related to a potential romantic connection with Ojima he still interpreted it as an accusation and got very defensive and aggressive. Even telling the original asker to get a life and friends. From how much he’s had to hide this part about himself and Hiroaki’s attitude of lashing out at people who get too close to or annoy him, especially in chapter 1. He probably got very uncomfortable and defensive here. And it makes me think if he’s ever been accused like this in his personal life. And how distressing it must be to him of the idea of people looking into his life and making accusations like this which could potentially ruin his career and an to an extent, his life.

So all of this and Hiroaki coming out as gay, I feel like it’s very safe to assume now that he has a crush on/is in love with Ojima. Even though I feel that people are making Hiroaki’s coming out scene more about hirojima then how personal it is to his story, it’s definitely something worth talking about. Hiroaki said that he did know for a few years by know that he liked guys, and due to his high standing as a celebrity and especially in Japan where being queer is still heavily stigmatised in society, he never got to properly be true to himself. And now in the killing game where he’s completely separated from the outside world and trapped with 15 other students who didn’t know him. Perhaps that could be a reason why he was acting more overly affectionate with Ojima if he had less of a worry of public perception, but I don’t know, that’s just speculation. And even from the initial interview at the beginning of the series him showing interest in him. And how over time we’ve seen Hiroaki and Ojima truly develop a strong mutual bond and with the very high likelihood that Hiroaki has fallen in love with him, all the ways this could go is so interesting. This is likely the first time Hiroaki has truly fallen in love with someone which isn’t just some PR stunt. And how with Ojima genuinely caring about Hiroaki and being supportive to him in his lowest of times and is actually able to see him for who he is. He’s one of the rare instances Hiroaki has had a figure in his life who isn’t toxic or has a part in upholding his image and covering up his true self. I can definitely see the possibility of Hiroaki actually confessing to Ojima happen some time, or even then becoming a romantic couple. And something like that would be a huge step in both of their arcs especially with Hiroaki coming to terms with his sexuality after a life of lies. And that’s where I would normally talk about Ojima’s story leading up to this as well, but that’s an analysis for another time.

So yeah that’s my thoughts on this reveal and why I love how big of a personal moment it is for Hiroaki. Exploring a specific story of coming to terms with homosexuality in an unforgiving celebrity industry where one has to try so hard to hide it is such an incredibly interesting narrative and by this one confirmation of him being gay, recontextualises so much of Hiroaki’s story and lots of things starting to make a lot more sense now. And I truly cannot wait to see what the future will hold for this narrative.

(Apparently this post isn’t showing up if I put too many tags so here’s my extra thoughts on it Oop)

[willowed-wisp]

NSFW alphabet [ sanemi shinazugawa ]

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He goes rough during sex and he knows it. Being a Hashira is stressful and his mother haunts his nightmares. So after giving you the brunt of his pain, he carries you to the bath.

You’re limp and numb to anything around you, he takes care with you. Washing your hair, scrubbing your perfect body. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear while behind you.

Curling you in his arms in bed, you’ve never slept so well.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ON HIMSELF: He’s proud of his body, all of the work it does to kill demons. It also has other benefits, making you cum harder than you had with anyone. He hates his scars, but since he has had significant ones since childhood- he thought to himself, ‘more won’t change things…’ and doesn’t care if he garners more of them.

ON YOU: You have such soft skin and that joyous gleam in your eyes warms his heart. Your smile makes him have hope that true good exists in abundance and that he’s worthy of tranquil happiness. He’s a thigh man, loves to use them as an anchor point when rutting into you. And resting his head on them when he returns home in relatively one piece.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Gets so worked up, more times than not his cum is leaking out of you. If it’s a blowjob, he’s finishing down your throat.

It terms of your cum, he’s fingering you in the attempt to get you to squirt. He’s used to the mess and doesn’t give a shit really. Loves when you’re so far gone that you couldn’t care less if anybody else heard you yell his name.

He’s a ‘grown ass man’ who likes watching you cum… very hard.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you on Hashira training grounds, carry fucking you. He’s a muscular guy, more than capable of tossing you up and down on his thick cock.

If any Hashira happens to see it, he doesn’t care. They’d see how competent he is on the battlefield and in the bedroom.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s too busy fighting demons to have frequent sex. He’s not a virgin but hasn’t gotten much.

Sanemi doesn’t like being touched, everything encounter before you had been non-intimate and pure sex.

But Sanemi knows what to do, especially with subtle guidance from yourself.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

CARRY FUCK: He’s strong- unbelievably so and he’s fast. You’re not in control, he’s in full force in that position…

LEAPFROG: It’s a more intimate version of doggystyle but your legs are prized open more and the angle he hits you inside is tear jerking and orgasm inducing. It’s one of his personal favourites- he can feel every inch of your cunt like that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Stone cold seriousness, in sex and in life. His presence is enough to render you speechless and humourless. Especially while bottoming you out. Only hearing your cries of pleasure.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s not messy down there, more on the side of no hair at all or a trimmed area of white.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Wouldn’t described Sanemi as a romantic, he cares about you definitely but doesn’t see the point in romantic gestures. His kisses are rough and spontaneous. You can taste the anger in them.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

There’s a lot of pent up tension for one person, typically takes it out in Hashira training but if you’ve turned him on… he’s gotta get it out somehow.

You caught him once, his cheek flushed an out of character pink… replacing his hand with your own, before swiping your tongue along his length, glossy with saliva. His hands braced in your hair, keeping your head bobbing.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loves to see his hickeys lacing every inch of your skin. He’s got a thing, and wears your scratches like a badge of honour.

Definitely is a masochist, especially with your scratches at his back. He wishes when you grip the sheets- him thrusting into you from behind - that it was your nails in his back.

Your pathetic cries for him to not stop, he gets off on that shit. You unable to handle him without tears streaking your cheeks.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

AGAINST A TREE: Loves when his back is against the tree, you on his hips- bucking up and down on his shaft. Or you’re on your knees, hair collected in his scarred palms- sloppy with his cock stuffed in your mouth.

OPEN SPACES: Open fields, on the ground. He likes stability because he can be earth shaking, also the echo of your screams drive him over an edge he craves.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A simple hand against his bare chest, running your fingers along the indentations undulating his pecs and toned abs. Running under his uniform. Down to his cock, palming. You’ve got his attention and without a second thought, your garments are pushed to the side and he’s in you.

Seeing you hold your own in battle, he admires a woman in charge and capable of independence. He’ll see how well you can handle him, whether that be in front of everybody or in private- depends on how you look at him across the battlefield.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not many things turn him off- hurting you, like actually harm to you is a massive no no. He’s not a monster, just troubled.

Any form of bodily fluid other than cum is a massive no. He’s not an animal who needs to mark his territory like that. He just leaves hickeys for days on you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves either. Depends if he’s in a giving mood and how dirty you’ve been. He’s never begged for a blowjob, you just end up gagging on him every day.

He’s very talented with his tongue, you may be better than red bean mochi. Obsessed with your pussy and the noises he can get rip from you by exploring it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough, rough, rough… did I mention he’s rough?

Sometimes you’ve had trouble walking because he’s drawn out so many heavy orgasms from you. Even his fingers are ROUGH… he’s gentle afterward but in the moment, he’s possessed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves to have a quickie, he can make you cum relatively quick. And he enjoys a quickie go in the Butterfly Mansion gardens now and again before Aoi can reprimand you both for undertaking such ‘lewd’ actions.

If you’re at HQ, everyday- maybe three times a day. He craves your skin and your presence. Not that he’d ever admit it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It’s pretty clear he doesn’t give a shit what others think of him. He’s fucked you in open corridors before at HQ. In alleyways, in the hot springs everywhere you ventured together in missions.

He is addicted to your volume, your sweet voice on the air as he’s tearing your soul from your body. He doesn’t care who hears that.

It’s not his fault that he knows how to make you cum hard multiple times in a row. Multiple times a day.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is inhuman. He’s drilling you three times a day… full out… day after day. One round with him is like four rounds with another guy, so he can last twelve rounds a day with that math.

Make sure not to taunt him about not being able to last… he’ll prove you wrong.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t need toys, he’s a man who can pleasure his woman. You’ve never complained before.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a fucking tease, in the worst way possible. If you’ve annoyed him, he has no problem in edging you countless times. Jokes on you, it just ends up in a cascade of profanity rolling from your throat. Speaking in tongues, and clinging to his rock hard body.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not too loud but his grunts egg you on even more…

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be on patrol one night and he’ll drag you into the noodle place. Tearing down your trousers, “Dripping already… you’ve been thinking about me, huh?” You nodded, as he stroked into you. Unrelenting.

This has happened more than once.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Seven inches and thick. Veiny and hooking to the left slightly.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

In close proximity with you, yeah- you’re a fucking goner. He doesn’t care where he corners you, you’ll always be game for it.

On a scale of 0-10. Sanemi Shinazugawa is a 10/10.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Makes sure you’re comfortable and sound asleep before he wraps you in his arms and sleeps soundly for the first time in weeks.

He does care about you, it’s just not in his nature to be gentle during physical activities.

————

kny m.list | main m.list | sanemi m.list

[ashela-ley]

Can we talk about Cartman's tendency to pet Kyle? And the way Kyle lets him do it?

It's such an under-discussed part of their dynamic. Cartman does this all the time. He does it to tease Kyle. He does it to comfort him. He does it to express gratitude. He even does it to pictures of Kyle when Kyle's not there.

And you could say that's just Cartman, he's just touchy, that's just how he expresses himself . . . except that it's really not. All this petting and stroking isn't something you see him do with Stan and Kenny. (Friends he has said multiple times he loves.) It's not something he does with his actual pet, Mr Kitty. It's not something he does with his mom. It's not even something he does with Heidi or Yentl. There's a lot of hand-holding and kissing in those relationships, but Cartman appears to consider this expected romantic partner behavior, and to be imitating that accordingly. What you don't see with them is the clingy, almost unconscious need to touch he demonstrates with Kyle. Kyle has to be stroked, patted, petted, hugged, poked, pulled on . . . it seems to be a comfort thing for Cartman, and that is just so fascinating to me.

It's also endlessly fascinating to me that Kyle - who has no problem putting Cartman in his place about anything else - allows this nearly every time. Maybe there's some token complaining, but he never actually tries to stop it. It's not "ew, Cartman is hugging me" it's always "why is Cartman hugging me?" and that's a subtle difference I think gets overlooked. People like to claim Kyle's response to Cartman having a crush on him would be disgust, and that Kyman could only ever be one-sided for this reason. But Kyle's response to Cartman being affectionate with him is actually pretty much always confusion, not disgust. I get the impression Kyle doesn't know how he feels about it.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here, but it's just so interesting to me, the relationship they both have to touch. Cartman uses Kyle to fulfil his need for touch and connection - and Kyle doesn't often reciprocate this touch, but he pretty consistently makes the concession of allowing it. They're feeling each other out, trying to work out "who are you to me and what do I feel for you?" It's one of the elements of Kyman that makes the ship so endearing, I think. There's this sweetness to it that absolutely should not exist between these characters, but does anyway.

Definitely! You’re right, Cartman does seem to seek out physical contact with Kyle considerably more than with anyone else he isn’t directly romantically involved with and my favourite instances of this is when he does so under the guise of antagonizing him. Two examples of this are the whole ‘Jennifer Lopez’-thing in “Fat Butt and Pancake Head” and Cartman promoting Kyle to the Germans in “Funnybot”. In both cases he uses an instance of disrespecting Kyle as a front to compliment him, with the ‘Jennifer Lopez’-persona constantly being gushing over him, telling him how much she likes him, calling him ‘handsome’ and of course ‘kissing’ him by Cartman pressing his hand against Kyle’s mouth. This is especially interesting considering the fact that later in the episode it is very heavily implied (and then pretty much outright confirmed in “200”) that Cartman really doesn’t have full control over the character. In “Funnybot” Cartman calls Kyle either ‘gentle/soft’ or ‘juicy’ (lol), ‘pretty’, and ‘very beautiful’ in extremely mangled German (which I guess is just regular German in-universe since the native speakers talk just like that) and while the context of the scene is obviously very dark for the viewer, who can infer what’s going on, Kyle doesn’t actually seem to realise what is happening. He doesn’t appear to understand what is being said at all and as such Cartman doesn’t even really have the excuse that he’s teasing him.

This scene fits the reaction you described that Kyle tends to have when Cartman engages him in physical contact very well: Kyle reacts to Cartman excessively touching him with confusion but simply lets it happen. He has every reason to be wary of Cartman’s intentions and yet he makes no effort to stop him from what he’s doing. In “ManBearPig” Kyle wakes up to find Cartman leaning over him and while he doesn’t actually touch him, he does get extremely close to him, giving us the famous image of their faces mere inches apart. Kyle’s reaction to this is incredibly understated: He appears at most slightly irritated and attempts neither to push Cartman off nor to move away from him. Once again, he mostly just seems confused by Cartman’s behaviour but, as far as we can see, makes no further attempts to investigate the reasons behind it. This understated reaction is an indication of an (imo) often overlooked aspect of their relationship, which is that while Kyle is well aware of what Cartman is theoretically capable of, he doesn’t actually seem worried that he’d ever seriously harm him. Personally, if I found myself trapped in a cave with a person who constantly professes his hatred for me and whom I know has no qualms about killing people, and then woke up to find said person looming over me in my sleep I’d be much more worried than Kyle appears to be. In fact, considering everything that has happened over the course of their relationship and how many despicable things Cartman has done, Kyle seems Weirdly Comfortable And Safe With His Evil, Ill-Intentioned Friend. Because that’s what they are: They’re friends. To call it a complicated friendship might be an understatement but when it comes down to it the simple fact of the matter is that these two do like each other. While in earlier seasons a point could be made that they only spend time together out of necessity (with the main four being somewhat isolated from the other kids, as Craig points out in “Pandemic 2”, and Cartman originally being an incidental part of the group as ‘the friend no one likes’), they’ve both long since expanded their social circles to a point where they are no longer ‘forced’ to spend time together for lack of better options. Kyle would be more than justified in cutting Cartman off completely and yet he doesn’t and I can honestly see no real reason for this other than the fact that he simply cares about him as a person.

So I agree that Kyle probably wouldn’t react with disgust to the hypothetical reveal that Cartman harbours romantic feelings towards him. I’m not claiming that he would necessarily be elated but I’m pretty sure ‘disgust’ would not be his first reaction and I think many people who think that it would be might at least partially hold that opinion due to projection: Because while we, as viewers, are frequently meant to find Cartman repulsive both physically and emotionally (his embodiment of the 'fat bastard' trope is a key part of his character, after all), Kyle doesn’t actually appear to overtly feel that way about him – which is to say he does kinda but not exclusively and it’s all just a bit more complicated than that. Kyle being thoroughly confused does seem like the most likely reaction to me. Regarding the physical aspect: Of course Kyle frequently makes derogatory remarks about Cartman’s appearance, specifically regarding his weight (to the point where it’s been a main focus of their dynamic for almost thirty years) but we see several times that his critique actually seems to stem from a place of worry and that he feels bad when he thinks that these comments have actually managed to hurt his feelings (e.g. “Raising the Bar”). Of course, what exactly Kyle’s feelings towards Cartman are is, with good reason, a source of much discussion and I’d claim that Kyle himself isn’t very sure of this. His sentiment towards Cartman definitely seems very erratic, with Kyle going from actively attempting to get him killed in “Fatbeard” to being concerned for his emotional well-being just a season later (“201”, “Poor and Stupid”). This concern Kyle has for a person he supposedly can’t stand has been a pretty consistent part of his character in later seasons and it’s especially striking when compared to the way he disregards his best friend’s feelings when he’s in genuine need of emotional support (“Raisins”, “You’re Getting Old”). This discrepancy is not only an indicator of the complicated relationship Kyle has with Cartman but imho also hints at at least one reason for it. In a (painfully long-winded😅) comment on AO3 I just touched on the similarities between Kyle and Cartman how interesting I find the very different ways in which they deal with their shared character traits. I believe this is something that draws them towards each other, though I’m certain that neither is actually consciously aware of this. You put it so beautifully in your last sentence: "There's this sweetness to it that absolutely should not exist between these characters, but does anyway." There really is an unexpectedly soft underbelly to their relationship that is a lot of fun to explore. While I wont deny the toxic aspects of this ship (in fact, they’re a major part of what I find interesting about it), there is also the surprising potential for a real emotional connection between these characters.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

As a person who was genuinely made uncomfortable when I discovered Viv does all this crap like 🍇-romantification, I appreciate this blog so far.

For months I've been trying not to interact with hazbin because of viv's actions, which genuinely makes me sad cause I really liked the show (not including episode 4).

I understand darker skin not suiting your style (like mine) or having trouble with different proportions of characters due to where they're from or something (like me) but the fact that she made all the bad guys that way really doesn't scream "I have trouble drawing ____!"

⚠️YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO REPLY OR READ FULLY⚠️

Hi! Totally get this all dw, I just got out of the hospital however so if I explain weird please forgive me 😬 also dont take all of this as me giving specifically you a lecture, this is just me letting my thoughts flow out to whoever is reading 🤝

Also theres leaks in this! If you people don’t want leaks be sure to not read past “read more”!!

Its been brought to my attention that the information in the next paragraph is not true and Vivzie did not design or draw these characters! So she apparently just actually can’t draw them at all

Viv has absolutely no problem drawing POC! I mean just look at the human designs for the succubi in Helluva boss

These designs are wonderful and very diverse! But out of these characters, the ones that are important are Verosika and Vortex and even then these characters are side characters. And on top of that, technically they’re only really coded as POC since these aren’t their true bodily forms, but hey thats a topic for another time. Let’s just ignore that for now and say they 100% are POC, they’re still side characters. She can draw POC wonderfully, she just has issues… making them important.

For characters like Alastor (who was only made POC to get away with demonising a closed religion) we don’t see him as his human form. I mean to be fair why would we- but also why did he turn white when he died?? Why did his entire hair texture change. This is a problem for Vivzie where she doesn’t want to commit to representation or feels she doesn’t need to. Vivzie could’ve made Alastor’s design look more like his leaked human design or couldve just altered his colours a bit, but she didn’t do this because she feels so connected to her original high school OC design that she cant bring herself to change him. Like look at this.

Yeah it’s got a different style, but this is the same guy; he’s just weirdly marketable now. It’s incredibly easy to tell that Vivzie didn’t want to change him if she didn’t 100% have to. Lets take a look at Alastor’s old human design.

This guy definitely looks like he could be Alastor! He’s got the same sort of hair but shorter in the back and a little more combed, but looking at this you can still tell it’s Alastor. However this guy doesn’t exactly seem mixed, right? That’s because he isn’t! Back way way in ye olden days when Alastor went from race ambiguous to white, he just kind of looked like that! And there’s no problem with him being white! Good for him on doing that! I guess!? But when you look his design now, things start to come off as a bit odd.

This is where you non-leakers go read somethin else

This is an entirely different person now. Not just race wise, but personality, the way he presents himself in the arts pose, and just overall the actual look of the character. He looks conniving yes, but he doesn’t look like Alastor. This is not a face matchup.

Now, you definitely can have your ugly little red thing design and still use that human one! You just have to not be too chicken to actually change your character so it makes sense. Let me demonstrate.

Shocking how easily this design can fit the human one while still maintaining the original aesthetic of the base design isn’t it! This Alastor looks like the provided new human design. If you don’t want the character to change, don’t change them physically. And if you do, follow through on it and don’t be a wimp. I don’t see whats so hard to grasp about that to this lady. If you want to keep that same ugly fucking bob then just keep him white. She literally only changed his race so she can use it as an excuse to appropriate vodou. Vivzie can draw POC, she just doesn’t want to when it comes to actually having to change a character. Anyway, good day!

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! 🤍

I saw your Marvel Holiday Special, and would love to request it, including Loki Laufeyson, if possible.

As soon as I saw the prompt [ Holiday Road Trip  – A festive road trip adventure with your character, from road snacks to sing-alongs to unexpected pit stops. Will the two of you get into mischief along the way? ] I knew I would love to see what mischief Loki and Fem! Reader will get up to on their road trip.

The only plot point I'd love to see is Reader taking Loki home to meet her parents for the first time, as this is their first Christmas together as a couple. Other than that, I'm open to any and all additions!

Thank you in advance 🤍

CHRISTMAS ROAD TRIP

⤷ LOKI LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said, it's just them on a cute little road trip

ᯓ★ TW(s): some men staring at y/n and loki gets jealous

ᯓ★ After this event is done I was thinking of writing a part two with Loki meeting the rest of her family if y'all want to read it!!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

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

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

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The chill of December wraps around you as you shuffle through the living room, tossing a scarf onto the pile of clothes Loki has deemed necessary for this trip. Your breath fogs slightly in the air, even inside, thanks to the old heating system that never quite does its job. Loki, standing near the window with his usual poised elegance, eyes your movements with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you certain we need to bring all of this?” he asks, gesturing toward the heap of jackets, sweaters, and boots. His black coat hangs over one arm, and he adjusts the green scarf you insisted he wear, its color somehow making his eyes seem even sharper in contrast.

“Yes,” you say with a grin, tossing another blanket into the backseat of the car. “It’s a road trip in the middle of winter, Loki. We’ll need everything to stay warm.”

“Is the car not equipped with sufficient heating?” His tone is suspicious, as if the idea of a less-than-perfectly functioning Midgardian invention offends his Asgardian sensibilities.

“It works fine!” you shoot back, though you cross your fingers mentally because “fine” is definitely a stretch. “Besides, it’s better to be prepared than frozen on the side of the road because of… well, let’s just call it ‘old car problems.’”

Loki sighs dramatically, pulling his long hair out from beneath the scarf. “It seems your love for this outdated contraption borders on madness.”

You roll your eyes. “My ‘outdated contraption’ is the only way we’re getting to my parents’ house. So unless you want to conjure a portal and skip all the scenic stops along the way…”

“Very well,” he interrupts, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Lead on, darling. I’m at your mercy.”

The term of endearment warms you in a way the old heater never could, and you pause for just a second to take him in. Loki—the god of mischief, with his sharp tongue and sharper cheekbones—standing here, wrapped in layers of human warmth, about to spend his first Christmas with you and your family. You feel an odd mixture of pride and nervousness, though you quickly push the latter aside.

“You’re going to love this,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “The road trip, my parents, the holiday. All of it.”

He steps closer, tilting his head as he studies you. “You seem… different today. Anxious, perhaps?”

“Nope,” you lie, too quickly.

He quirks an eyebrow, not buying it, but lets the moment pass. Instead, he picks up a thermos from the counter, examining it with mild curiosity. “And this?”

“Hot chocolate. Essential for road trips,” you say, taking it from him and packing it into a tote bag. “You’ll see.”

He doesn’t argue, but the small smirk on his face suggests he’s already planning to tease you about all of this later.

It takes another twenty minutes to finish loading the car. Loki insists on helping, though he does so with a mix of bemusement and mild exasperation. You’re almost certain he could transport everything into the vehicle with a snap of his fingers, but he indulges your need to do things the “human way,” as he puts it.

When the car is finally packed, you hand him the keys. He stares at them as if you’ve just offered him a particularly baffling puzzle.

“You’re driving,” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately, holding the keys between his thumb and forefinger like they might bite him. “This… contraption is yours. You shall pilot it.”

“It’s not a spaceship, Loki. It’s a car,” you say, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Besides, I like driving. You get to sit back and relax.”

He mutters something under his breath about Midgardians and their strange customs but climbs into the passenger seat without further protest. He looks comically large in the small space, his knees brushing the dashboard despite his attempts to adjust the seat.

“Comfortable?” you ask with a grin, starting the engine. The old car roars to life, though it takes a couple of tries.

“Exceedingly,” he deadpans, resting his elbow on the window ledge. “Do proceed.”

The sarcasm doesn’t escape you, but you’re too excited to care. You pull out of the driveway, the crunch of snow under the tires echoing in the crisp morning air. The city begins to fall away as you head toward the open road, the skyline replaced by sprawling fields dusted in white.

For the first few miles, Loki is quiet, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. You steal glances at him, wondering what’s going through his mind. He’s so rarely this subdued, and while you appreciate the peace, you can’t help but feel like he’s holding something back.

“So,” you begin, breaking the silence. “What do you think so far?”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if considering his response carefully. “It’s… peculiar.”

“Peculiar how?”

“This,” he says, gesturing toward the dashboard and then out the window. “The journey itself. On Asgard, such distances would be traversed in an instant. There’s something… inefficient about all of this.”

“Efficient isn’t the point,” you counter. “The point is to enjoy the trip. The stops, the conversations, the memories. You can’t get that if you just snap your fingers and appear where you want to be.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he nods. “Perhaps you’re right.”

You grin, feeling victorious. “See? I told you you’d like this.”

“I didn’t say I liked it,” he corrects, though his tone is lighter now. “Merely that you might have a point.”

“Close enough,” you say, reaching over to turn on the radio. Static fills the car for a moment before a holiday tune comes through, cheerful and bright. You glance at Loki, half expecting him to complain, but he only raises an eyebrow.

“And what is this?” he asks.

“Christmas music,” you reply, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. “It’s mandatory for road trips in December.”

“Mandatory, you say?” He leans back in his seat, his lips twitching. “I had no idea the laws of Midgard were so whimsical.”

“Oh, they’re very serious,” you say with mock gravity. “In fact, I think there’s a fine for not singing along.”

His laughter is sudden and genuine, catching you off guard. It’s a rare sound, and you treasure it, even more than you do the road ahead or the promise of home waiting for you at the end of the trip.

The hum of the road beneath the tires and the gentle sway of the car create a rhythm that feels both soothing and energizing. You lean forward to fiddle with the radio again, this time landing on a station that’s playing upbeat holiday classics. Loki watches you with a bemused expression, his long fingers resting idly on his knee.

“Ah, yes,” he says, as the unmistakable opening notes of Jingle Bell Rock fill the car. “Another... mandatory Christmas tune?”

“Exactly,” you reply, popping open a bag of pretzels and offering him some. “And if you don’t like it, you’re legally required to tell me in song form.”

He picks up a single pretzel between his thumb and forefinger, examining it with an air of suspicion. “This looks like it was made for livestock.”

“Hey, don’t insult the pretzels,” you protest, grabbing a handful and tossing them into your mouth. “They’re a road trip staple.”

Loki places the pretzel on his tongue like it might be poison, chews slowly, and then swallows. His expression shifts from disdain to surprise. “It’s... salty.”

“Yes, that’s kind of the point.”

He considers this, then reaches for another. “Intriguing.”

You grin and pull another snack from your arsenal: a brightly colored bag of gummy bears. “If you think pretzels are weird, wait until you try these.”

He raises an eyebrow, accepting one of the bears and holding it up to the light. “Is this... an animal?”

“Sort of,” you say, trying not to laugh. “It’s candy. Just eat it.”

He does, and for a moment, his face is a perfect picture of concentration. Then, slowly, his lips curve into a smile. “This is much better than the pretzel.”

“See?” you say triumphantly, tossing a few gummy bears into your mouth. “I told you, snacks are essential. You can’t have a road trip without snacks.”

Loki leans back in his seat, his long legs stretching as much as the cramped car will allow. “And this is how Midgardians entertain themselves on journeys? Consuming... novelty foods and singing mandatory songs?”

“Pretty much,” you reply. “Oh, and there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

You reach into the tote bag and pull out a thermos. “Hot chocolate.”

He accepts the thermos with the same air of careful curiosity, unscrewing the lid and taking a tentative sip. His eyes widen slightly, and you know you’ve won him over again.

“This is... quite good,” he admits, taking another sip.

“I told you, road trips are fun.”

He glances at you, his expression softening. “I suppose they are—when shared with the right company.”

Your cheeks flush, and you turn your attention back to the road, the snow-covered fields stretching out in every direction.

A few hours and several snack wrappers later, the car’s fuel gauge dips dangerously close to empty. You pull into a small, slightly shabby gas station, the kind with peeling paint and a flickering neon sign. Loki surveys the establishment with a look of barely concealed disdain.

“This is where we’re stopping?” he asks.

“Unless you want to push the car the rest of the way, yes,” you reply, pulling into a parking spot near the pumps. “Come on, stretch your legs. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

Loki unfolds himself from the car with all the grace of a cat, though his nose wrinkles as he looks around. “It smells.”

“It’s a gas station,” you say, slamming the car door. “What were you expecting? Roses?”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead following you toward the building. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzz faintly, and the air smells faintly of coffee and stale popcorn. You head for the bathroom, leaving Loki to explore the aisles on his own.

When you emerge a few minutes later, you find him standing in front of a display of souvenir snow globes, one of them turning over in his hands. The miniature scene inside—a plastic snowman and a lopsided evergreen—glimmers as the “snow” swirls around it.

“Are you actually thinking about buying that?” you ask, amused.

He glances at you, then back at the snow globe. “It’s... quaint. And yet oddly mesmerizing.”

You laugh, grabbing a couple of candy bars and a bottle of water from a nearby shelf. “If you want it, get it. Consider it your first Midgardian souvenir.”

He looks at you for a moment, then nods, placing the snow globe gently on the counter as you both approach the cashier. The older man behind the register barely glances up, sliding your items across the scanner with the air of someone who’s been doing this job for far too long.

“That everything?” the cashier asks, his voice gruff.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, handing over your card.

As the cashier bags your items, Loki leans closer to you. “What exactly is the purpose of this trinket?” he whispers, nodding toward the snow globe.

“It’s just for fun,” you whisper back. “Not everything needs a purpose.”

He looks skeptical but doesn’t argue.

Back outside, you load the snacks into the car while Loki examines the gas pump like it’s some kind of alien artifact.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asks, gesturing toward the nozzle.

“Yes, I know how to use it,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Go sit in the car. I’ll take care of it.”

He doesn’t move, instead watching intently as you swipe your card and start filling the tank. “Fascinating,” he murmurs.

“It’s really not,” you say, though you can’t help but smile. He has a way of making even the most mundane things feel... significant.

When the tank is full, you hop back into the driver’s seat, and Loki joins you, carefully placing the snow globe in the cup holder between you.

“Ready to hit the road again?” you ask.

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Indeed. Though I’m curious—what other ‘essential’ stops will we be making along the way?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you reply, pulling back onto the highway. “Road trips are all about surprises.”

The car hums along the snowy highway, the world outside your windows stretching into a winter wonderland of frosted fields and glittering trees. Inside, however, it’s less serene. Loki sits in the passenger seat, absently flipping through the contents of the glove compartment with the unrestrained curiosity of someone poking through someone else’s junk drawer.

“Do you actually need half of this?” he asks, pulling out a map so faded it’s barely readable.

“Put that back,” you say, swatting at his hand without taking your eyes off the road. “You don’t touch the glove box. It’s sacred.”

“Sacred?” He chuckles, holding up a broken pair of sunglasses and a random assortment of gas station receipts. “Darling, this is hardly a relic worth worshipping.”

“It’s my chaos box,” you reply. “It’s not supposed to make sense. Now leave it alone before you break something.”

“Very well,” he sighs, shoving everything back with little regard for order, which makes you groan. “Though I fail to see how it could possibly get more broken.”

You glance at him, catching his smirk, and roll your eyes. “If you’re bored, you can always stare out the window dramatically and brood. That’s kind of your thing, isn’t it?”

He leans back, folding his arms across his chest in mock offense. “I do not brood.”

“Oh, you absolutely brood,” you say with a grin. “You brood so hard you make storm clouds jealous.”

He opens his mouth to retort but stops when his hand brushes the thermos of hot chocolate, which is now teetering on the edge of the cup holder. He grabs it just in time but not without spilling a healthy splash onto his coat.

“Gods,” he mutters, glaring at the stain like it personally insulted him.

You bite back a laugh but can’t resist teasing him. “Nice catch, broody. Very heroic.”

He dabs at the spot with a napkin you hand him, grumbling under his breath about “ridiculous human beverages” and “primitive travel conditions.” You’re still laughing when he huffs dramatically and folds his arms again, clearly aiming for indignation but only managing to look adorably annoyed.

A few hours later, you pull off the highway to check out a small roadside shop advertising “the best pies in the state.” It’s the kind of place you’d normally drive past, but the idea of a warm pie in the middle of a snowy road trip is too tempting to resist.

Inside, the shop is charmingly rustic, with walls covered in old photos and shelves lined with jars of preserves. You head straight to the counter, but Loki lingers near a display of homemade candles, holding one up and sniffing it cautiously.

“Vanilla bean,” he reads aloud, his tone skeptical. “Is this supposed to smell like food?”

“It’s a candle,” you reply, selecting a cherry pie from the glass case. “It’s supposed to smell nice.”

He sets the candle down, unimpressed, and joins you at the counter just as the cashier rings up your order. As you pay, Loki spots a basket of candy canes and picks one up, frowning as he examines the striped treat.

“What exactly is this?” he asks, holding it like it’s some kind of alien artifact.

“It’s a candy cane,” you say, grabbing one for yourself. “It’s minty. You’ll like it.”

He pulls off the wrapper and takes a tentative lick. His face immediately contorts into a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“This tastes like winter,” he declares.

“That’s kind of the point,” you say, unwrapping your own. “It’s festive.”

He tries another lick, then shrugs and tucks the candy cane into his coat pocket like it’s a weapon he might need later. You stifle a laugh, imagining him wielding it like a dagger.

Back on the road, you decide it’s time to test Loki’s patience. You rummage through your tote bag and pull out a festive headband adorned with two glittery reindeer antlers.

“What is that?” he asks warily.

“A gift for you,” you reply, grinning as you hold it out to him. “Put it on.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. It’s Christmas!” you say, leaning over to try and place the antlers on his head.

He dodges, his reflexes annoyingly quick. “I am not wearing that.”

“Why not? You’d look cute.”

“I do not do ‘cute,’” he says, crossing his arms.

“Fine,” you say with exaggerated disappointment, sliding the headband onto your own head instead. “I guess I’ll just have to be the festive one.”

“Finally, some sense,” he says, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You’re about to retort when you glance at him and realize the candy cane he’d tucked into his pocket has fallen out and is now stuck to his scarf. He hasn’t noticed, but the sight of him sitting there with a sticky candy cane dangling from his pristine scarf is too much. You burst out laughing.

“What?” he asks, frowning.

“You, uh… you’ve got something on your scarf,” you manage between giggles.

He looks down, spots the candy cane, and sighs heavily. “This is why I prefer Asgardian fabrics,” he mutters, carefully peeling the sticky mess off his scarf.

“You’re a walking Christmas disaster,” you say, still laughing.

“And yet, here you are, subjecting me to all of this,” he replies, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“Because you love it,” you tease.

He glances at you, his expression softening. “Perhaps I do.”

As the sun begins to set, you find yourself driving through a picturesque little town, its streets lined with twinkling lights and festive decorations. Loki, who has been staring out the window for the past few minutes, suddenly sits up straighter.

“What’s that?” he asks, pointing to a small group of people gathered around a fire pit in the town square.

“Looks like a caroling group,” you say, slowing down to get a better look. “They’re singing Christmas songs.”

“Fascinating,” he murmurs.

“You want to stop?” you ask, half-joking.

He surprises you by nodding. “Yes. I’d like to see this.”

You pull into a parking spot, and the two of you wander over to the group, who are enthusiastically belting out Deck the Halls. Loki stands slightly apart, watching with an expression you can’t quite read.

After a few minutes, one of the carolers notices him and offers him a songbook. “Would you like to join us?”

Loki hesitates, glancing at you. You give him an encouraging nod, trying not to laugh at the idea of the god of mischief singing Christmas carols. To your amazement, he accepts the book and flips it open.

What follows is perhaps the most surreal and hilarious thing you’ve ever witnessed. Loki, with his deep, smooth voice, joins in on Silent Night, his usual air of confidence somehow making the song sound like a solemn Asgardian hymn. The carolers seem delighted, but you’re struggling not to laugh so hard you cry.

When the song ends, Loki hands the book back and turns to you, one eyebrow raised. “What?” he asks, clearly aware of your barely contained laughter.

“Nothing,” you say, grinning. “You’re just… full of surprises.”

He smirks, slipping his arm around your waist as you head back to the car. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The town square is straight out of a holiday movie. Strings of fairy lights crisscross above the cobblestone streets, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The shop windows are decorated with frosted garlands and tiny ornaments, and the faint scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts wafts through the crisp air.

“This place is... quaint,” Loki remarks, though there’s no malice in his tone. If anything, he seems intrigued.

You grin, taking his hand and giving it a tug. “Come on, let’s walk around. Stretch our legs before we hit the road again.”

His fingers tighten around yours, and you set off down the street together, weaving through the small clusters of people enjoying the festivities. Loki, with his impossibly perfect posture and graceful strides, looks somewhat out of place among the casual, bundled-up townsfolk, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

At one point, you stop in front of a shop window displaying tiny porcelain houses arranged in a Christmas village scene. Snowflakes painted on the glass catch the light, giving everything a magical shimmer.

“Do people in Midgard really live in houses that small?” Loki asks, leaning closer to inspect the display.

You laugh, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “No, they’re just decorations. They’re supposed to be cute.”

He tilts his head, considering this. “I suppose they have their charm.”

You stay there for a moment, watching him as his gaze shifts from the display to the reflection of the twinkling lights in the glass. His face softens, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” he asks, catching you staring.

“Nothing,” you say, smiling. “Just glad you’re here.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then leans down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and unhurried, the kind of kiss that makes the rest of the world melt away. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes lightly against your cheek.

“Likewise,” he murmurs.

The spell is broken by the distant sound of a bell jingling, signaling someone entering a nearby shop. You laugh softly and take his hand again, leading him further down the street.

You walk for a while, pausing occasionally to peek into shop windows or admire the decorations. At one point, you pass a small stand selling roasted chestnuts and decide to grab a bag to share. Loki takes one, examines it like he’s expecting it to come to life, and finally pops it into his mouth.

“Well?” you ask, grinning.

He chews thoughtfully before nodding. “Better than pretzels.”

“That’s high praise,” you tease, nudging him playfully with your shoulder.

Eventually, your wanderings lead you to a cozy little restaurant tucked away on a side street. Its glowing sign reads The Holly & Hearth, and through the frosted windows, you can see the warm glow of candlelit tables and hear the faint hum of conversation.

“This looks nice,” you say, glancing at Loki. “Shall we?”

He nods, holding the door open for you like the gentleman he so often pretends not to be. Inside, the restaurant is as charming as its name suggests, with rustic wooden beams, a crackling fireplace, and tables adorned with holly wreaths and red candles. A cheerful hostess greets you and leads you to a cozy booth near the window.

As you settle into your seat, Loki shrugs off his coat and places it neatly beside him. You, on the other hand, haphazardly toss yours onto the seat next to you and lean back with a sigh.

“Finally, real food,” you say, glancing at the menu. “Not that I don’t love snacks, but I can’t live on pretzels and gummy bears alone.”

“I don’t know how you managed this long,” Loki replies, his eyes scanning the menu with mild curiosity.

The two of you place your orders—warm soup and freshly baked bread for you, and a hearty roast for Loki. While you wait for your food, you sip on hot cider and talk about nothing in particular. It’s easy, comfortable, and you can’t help but marvel at how natural it feels to share these little moments with him.

That is, until you notice Loki’s expression shift.

His posture straightens, and his gaze narrows slightly as he glances around the room. You follow his line of sight and realize he’s looking at a group of men seated at the bar. They’re not exactly subtle about the way they’re watching you, their gazes lingering a little too long on the curve of your legs and the snug fit of your sweater.

You glance back at Loki, whose jaw is now clenched. His fingers drum lightly against the table, an almost imperceptible but telling sign of his irritation.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, though you have a pretty good idea.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the men. Finally, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “They’re staring at you.”

You laugh softly, brushing it off. “It’s not a big deal. People stare sometimes.”

“It is a big deal,” he replies, his tone clipped. “They’re ogling you like... like wolves.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his indignation. “It’s fine, Loki. Let them look. I’m here with you.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, his eyes flicking back to the men, who are now pretending to be interested in their drinks but still sneaking glances in your direction. You reach across the table, placing your hand over his.

“Hey,” you say softly, drawing his attention back to you. “You don’t have to be jealous.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Jealous? I am not jealous.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re definitely not jealous.”

He huffs, clearly trying to maintain his composure, but his free hand moves to rest possessively on your knee under the table. The gesture is subtle but unmistakable, and it sends a pleasant little thrill through you.

“You’re cute when you’re protective,” you tease, leaning forward slightly.

He smirks, though his gaze remains slightly guarded. “I am not cute.”

“Sure you’re not,” you say, your voice teasingly sweet.

Before he can respond, your food arrives, and you’re momentarily distracted by the comforting aroma of warm bread and hearty soup. Loki, however, is still keeping an eye on the men at the bar, his expression one of thinly veiled annoyance.

As you eat, you make a point of keeping the conversation light, hoping to draw his attention back to you. It works—for the most part. He relaxes a little, though his hand remains on your knee, his thumb occasionally brushing against your leg in a way that makes it very hard to focus on your soup.

When you’re both finished eating, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, savoring the lingering warmth of the cider. Loki watches you for a moment, his earlier tension finally melting away.

“You’re entirely too captivating for your own good,” he says, his voice low and warm.

You smile, reaching across the table to take his hand. “And you’re entirely too dramatic.”

He chuckles, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Perhaps.”

The moment is interrupted by the sound of one of the men at the bar laughing a little too loudly. Loki’s gaze flicks to them again, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Don’t do anything,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Who, me?” he asks innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggests otherwise.

“Yes, you,” you reply. “Let’s just pay the bill and get out of here, okay?”

He sighs but nods, and you flag down the waitress to settle up. As you slip into your coat, you feel Loki’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close as you make your way toward the door. It’s a subtle but unmistakable display, and you can’t help but smile as you glance up at him.

“Feeling better?” you ask as you step out into the chilly night air.

“Much,” he replies, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “Though I still don’t like the way they were looking at you.”

You laugh, leaning into his side as you walk back to the car. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for you.”

He stops, turning to face you with a serious expression. For a moment, the teasing is gone, replaced by something deeper.

“I know,” he says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “But I can’t help it. You’re... everything.”

Your breath catches, and before you can respond, he leans down and kisses you. It’s slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that leaves you feeling warm despite the cold air around you. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“You’re everything to me too,” you whisper, smiling up at him.

He presses another quick kiss to your lips before pulling away, his smirk returning. “Good. Now let’s get back on the road before you tempt me to abandon this journey entirely.”

Laughing, you take his hand and head for the car, ready to continue your adventure together.

You both make your way back to the car, the chill of the night air nipping at your cheeks. Loki’s hand stays warm in yours as you slip into the car, and despite his earlier grumbling about the road trip, there’s an almost reluctant contentment to the way he settles into his seat next to you. You adjust the rearview mirror, settle the gearshift into drive, and take a deep breath, ready to continue the journey.

“Ready for this?” you ask, glancing over at him as you pull out of the restaurant’s parking lot.

Loki looks at you, a slight smirk on his lips, but there’s something softer behind his mischievous eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, his tone a little more serious than before.

You take that in stride and shift the car back onto the main road, the headlights cutting through the snow-covered streets. The gentle hum of the engine fills the space between you as you make your way toward the highway again, the familiar roads taking you further from the cozy warmth of the small town and closer to your family’s home.

As the miles slip by, the temperature outside continues to drop, and you turn up the heat just a little bit. The soft flicker of the dashboard lights casts a glow over Loki’s features as he shifts in his seat, pulling his jacket tighter around him.

“So,” you start, breaking the silence, “have you decided what you’re going to wear tomorrow? The family dinner?”

Loki looks over at you, a little surprised. “Wear?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me there was a dress code.”

You laugh lightly. “Well, it’s not a formal event or anything, but my family tends to go all out on Christmas Eve, so… I don’t want you showing up in your typical black and leather. Trust me, my mom won’t let you hear the end of it.”

Loki chuckles under his breath, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You think she’ll mind if I show up in a full Asgardian outfit? Complete with the crown?”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth that fills your chest at the thought of Loki trying to make an impression on your family is undeniable. “You know my mom would love that. And my dad, too, probably. You’d definitely steal the spotlight.”

“Is that not the goal?” Loki says with an innocent grin, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Sure, but not at the expense of your dignity.”

“I have plenty of dignity to spare,” he says, leaning back in the seat. “Besides, I find this whole ‘family’ thing fascinating. You’ve mentioned your parents quite a lot, but I’ve never met them. Do they, uh… approve of me?”

You glance at him, surprised by the slight hesitation in his voice. He’s trying to act casual, but you can tell it’s more important to him than he’s letting on.

“Of course they do,” you say softly. “They’re excited to meet you. I wouldn’t be bringing you if I didn’t think you’d get along.”

Loki nods, though his gaze seems to linger on the passing road ahead. “I’ll try my best to… behave.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching over to rest your hand on his. “I think they’ll like you. Just be yourself. But also, maybe, try not to antagonize my dad too much.”

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look. “Antagonize? Me? Never. What makes you think I’d do such a thing?”

You laugh again, the sound light and carefree, and you both settle back into a comfortable silence. The road ahead stretches on, snowy fields and frosted trees blurring past your window. The quiet of the car feels familiar, the two of you sharing the journey together without needing to fill every moment with words.

After what feels like both a long time and no time at all, you see the sign that signals the turnoff toward your parents' house. You breathe a small sigh of relief, the excitement of being close now outweighing any lingering nerves. You’ve been looking forward to this—both the chance to see your family and share this part of your life with Loki.

As you pull up the winding drive, the house looms ahead, a two-story home with red brick and a sprawling front yard that’s been decorated with twinkling lights, wreaths, and even a couple of reindeer statues. It looks like something straight out of a Hallmark movie, and you can’t help but smile at the sight.

“This is it,” you say, slowing the car to a stop just in front of the porch.

Loki glances around, his eyes scanning the house and the decorations. “Very festive,” he says, though his voice holds a note of amusement. “I didn’t expect this much cheer.”

You turn the car off, giving him a quick glance. “Don’t worry. My family’s great, but they’ll take it easy on you. They just… love Christmas a little more than most.”

Loki gives you a wry smile. “I’m sure they’ll find a way to make me feel completely at home.”

You roll your eyes, but the truth is, you’re just as nervous as he is. “You’ll be fine,” you reassure him, giving his hand a squeeze before you open the door.

As you step out, the chilly air immediately hits you, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself. Loki follows you, his movements fluid as always, and you both make your way up the steps to the door.

Before you can even reach for the handle, the door swings open, revealing your mom standing in the doorway, beaming. She’s wearing a festive red sweater with snowflakes and her hair pulled back into a loose bun. The moment she sees you, her smile widens even further.

“There you are!” she says, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. “We’ve been waiting for you. And I take it this is the infamous Loki?”

Your mom pulls away and glances at him, her smile not wavering for even a second. Loki, for his part, looks like he’s preparing for a battle, but when your mom gives him an easy smile and extends her hand, he hesitates only for a moment before shaking it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says, his voice smooth but a little guarded.

“Likewise,” your mom says with a laugh, clearly not phased by his formal demeanor. “Come on in! Dinner’s almost ready.”

You shoot Loki a look, reassuring him with a soft smile as you step into the warmth of the house. The scent of freshly baked bread, roasting meats, and spices fills the air. The living room is lit by a crackling fire, and the familiar decorations you grew up with are scattered throughout the house. It feels like home.

As you enter the living room, your father, who’s seated in his favorite armchair by the fire, looks up from his book and stands. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders, a salt-and-pepper beard, and a warm, welcoming presence. The moment he sees you, his stern face breaks into a huge smile.

“There she is! My favorite daughter!” he exclaims, holding his arms out to pull you into a bear hug.

Your father’s voice booms, but there’s no mistaking the love behind it. When he pulls back, he glances over at Loki, sizing him up with a raised eyebrow.

“And this must be Loki,” he says, his voice less warm but still friendly. “You’re a little different than I expected, but no less intriguing.”

Loki stands a little straighter under your father’s gaze, clearly aware of the scrutiny. “I’m not sure what your expectations were, but I assure you, I’m… delightful once you get to know me.”

Your father chuckles, extending his hand. “I’ll take your word for it. Welcome to our home.”

Loki hesitates only for a second before shaking your father’s hand firmly, and you can see a flicker of approval pass between them, though it’s still a little tentative.

The moment is interrupted by a voice from behind you, and you turn to see your older brother, Matt, standing in the hallway, grinning widely.

“Well, look who finally showed up! Did you get lost on the way here?” he teases.

You roll your eyes and go to greet him. “Shut up, Matt,” you say, giving him a quick hug. “I didn’t get lost.”

Matt, always the joker, looks over at Loki with a raised eyebrow. “So, you’re the infamous god of mischief, huh?”

Loki, who’s clearly been getting all kinds of attention from your family, puts on his best regal smile. “In the flesh,” he replies smoothly, though there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone.

You can feel the subtle tension in the air, but your mom comes to the rescue by clapping her hands together.

“Alright, enough of the introductions! Everyone, dinner’s ready!”

As you all head into the dining room, you can feel Loki’s posture relax just a little, but you can tell he’s still a little on edge, trying to navigate the maze of your family’s personalities.

You smile to yourself, a little giddy at the thought that this—this chaotic, perfect mess—is your family. And Loki? Well, he’ll get used to it, and in time, they’ll warm up to him just as much as you have.

[prettypinkpuddles]

Silent but so fucking deadly….

i just thought of and i’m going to get started. it’s just dirty sex. have fun with that.

includes: Al Haitham/Cyno/Neuvillette/Albedo (characters who are usually reserved and quiet, very demure ✨ )

Al Haitham wasn’t one of many words, not unless they were worth it. and you were definitely worth it with the way you were slobbering over his cock.

“fuck, keep doing that,” he huffed as his hand smoothed over his forehead, this glazed over look in his eyes. suddenly his head fell back and he let out this guttural sigh that seemed to ripple into a growl, “yes, oh fuck yes, baby.”

he gripped your head and stilled you; you bubbled out a choke and breathed out shortly through your nose before feeling his tip glide over your tongue rapidly. you squealed and gagged, but that only seemed to encourage him to fuck your head harder. Al Haitham groaned and let out an airy chuckle as he pushed himself into you slowly this time.

“could do this behind my damn desk, or when i wake up, when i need to relax…” he marveled and pulled you all the way to the tip, losing at you with lidded eyes and a sneaking grin. “just use this fucking throat until it’s raw.”

Cyno nearly trained himself to not speak, it was part of why he was so good at his job. the second he got home and saw you trying on a new set of blue lingerie from Fontaine. the color was perfect for your skin, the bra beautiful complimented your breasts, even as they’d fallen against your chest to the sides, your panties looked gorgeous, even when they were at your ankle and behind his head.

he buried his tongue into you, morning out deliciously for your pussy to absorb. you bit your lip and closed your eyes, pushing your head into the pillow as he flattened his tongue against your folds, lapping up your juices and slurping your clit with a singing hum.

“fuck, fuck, Cyno..” you whispered. “please keep going.” you whined. he chuckled deeply and slurped again loudly and you squealed, pushing him into you with your feet.

he pulled away just a bit to speak, “i’m sure you were just waiting for me to come home and see you like that.”

you didn’t bother to respond, he was just talking to himself, and your pussy but mostly himself. of how he thought you were playing this game, of waiting for him, how he wanted to rip your lingerie and just ruin you, turn you into a crying whore that only thought of him. how he wanted to plow his angry tip into your cunt and roll his hips through a gruelingly slow pace that left you on the edge.

your legs twitched and he pulled you close to him, plunged his fingers into you and curled them just right and you popped. his lower face was slicked with your essence and his hair was completely disheveled from your pulling. he wiped his chin and smothered a kiss just above your clit, then over your stomach, up to your chest and to your lips. the ones on your head. he grinned, “i hope you’re ready for all of that.”

you loved teasing Neuvilette. not because he would react in an embarrassed fashion, but because he’d just… tilt his head and try to explain it in a complex manner. it was a sweetest thing to you, how difficult he was with the simplest things you’d do; touching his cock with the tip of your heel, sitting under his desk to invite him to use your mouth, kissing his face as you sat on his lap, he’d just stay focused on his work until the day ended.

but this time, maybe he had enough or something, he stood up, locked the doors of his office and sat on one of the couches.

“come here,” he commanded gently and you did, walked to him and let him guide you to his lap. and he rolled himself over your thighs.

you gasped and put your hands on his chest as the thrust became more aggressive, his hands pulled you close to him and he grabbed your face, whispering lowly in your ear, “did you think that teasing was going to get you anywhere today?”

you shuddered as how deep he was, then squealed into his should at the feeling of his hand rolling over your pebbled clit, “Neuvillette,” you whispered but he tutted at you.

“Monsieur Neuvillette.” he corrected.

“Mon-monsieur…” you swallowed as he pushed you on your back, “please, we’ll be heard.”

he chuckled darkly as his eyes nearly made you freeze, “you may care, but you soon won’t, as i don’t.”

archons, did Albedo feel good. when he’d push his perfectly sculpted cock into you, when his lips would kiss your collarbone gently, but his teeth would bruise the skin of your neck.

his teal eyes came to look at you as he wrote down a few things, then he pushed his fingers knuckle-deep, causing you to yelp in surprise. a shaky plea erupted from you, his fingers swinging over your spongy inside in just the right way.

“tell me how it feels, Y/N.” he instructed as he pulled his fingers away from one another in a scissor form, “what does the elixir do to your body?” he had given you a liquid he had procured from doing something or other to a green plant he discovered, and you stupidly decided to test it on yourself after no result occurred from stagnant test subjects. it was really affecting your ability to think, talk, and you were unbelievably thirsty, but that didn’t matter with the way Albedo was fucking your cunt.

you could nearly formulate moans let alone words. how your thighs quaked, your neck ached from holding your head up, how everything was amplified and dulled at the same time, his fingers felt so… foreign, even though you’ve felt them everywhere. you opened your mouth and attempted to speak, only letting out a quivering breath. your mouth was impossibly dry, no spit was there, just dry lust.

“do your thighs feel heavy?” he described as he leered at you from his desk. his eyes flickered to your swollen, soaked pussy hole, “does the way that i twist my fingers make you see stars?”

you don’t know if you were starting to hallucinate or going crazy but you actually saw stars at that. “y-yes…. yes, Al… oh Daddy, please.” you tried your best to swallow, feeling this bubbled lump in your throat. his fingers began to move impossibly fast, pushing out your liquids all over the desk. you choked snd arched your back, nearly falling back against the desk but Albedo felt your thighs still. your head touched something hard and cold, maybe ice, it didn’t matter, what mattered was your gushing orgasm that was pouring over the desk.

“fuck… fuck fuckkkkkk.” you moaned and looked up, “fuck me. and record my reaction, please.”

(absolutely based this on the times i was high. will be going into further detail about this in another drabble…)

[dancing-dawn]

*cracks knuckles over keyboard*

All The Memories Of You_collectingblues, 111k words

100% canon material and you can't convince me otherwise. I think about this daily even a month after reading, I'm not exaggerating. It broke my standards for fanfiction to a point that any time I read something of lower quality I just can't help but compare to this and mourn lol. Plot mainly revolves around the events of the 6-month deal, with Aku and Atsushi slowly developing their relationship through many hardships and realizations. So many powerful moments here live rent-free in my mind, from the fights, terrors and living nightmares to the domestic wholesomeness, gentle care and careless laughter and everything in between.

waiting room_srxlee, 96k words

Not to be dramatic but if I could meet the author I would fall to my knees and kiss their feet. it. is. that. good. Left me absolutely heartbroken (and it has a happy ending ffs), this is the most poetic writing I've ever read in my life, could be a whole ass best-seller novel. Centers around Akutagawa's sickness in modern AU and the growth of his relationship with Atsushi, both before and after he finds out (and angst ensues). I would sell my soul just to the style of writing alone, trust me, not to mention the plot and the pure unrivaled emotion behind every line.

at the curtains close_GhouliGhost, kitkatfics (miniekooki), 165 k words

*takes a deep breath* I speedran this in 3 days and still cannot recover from the emotional damage. In the beginning I was like "haha that's hilarious wtf am I getting into" and then watch me just a few chapters later sobbing my eyes out, clutching my heart and reflecting on my life. Probably the most realistic portrayal of a relationship I've ever read. Come see how two teachers, one being a rich asexual science nerd and the other a theatre-loving cam-boy, struggling in the depths of hell (aka financing debt) become dear friends, companions in life and lovers.

A Story Unfinished_SpiderLilyRed, 14k words

I have a soft spot for writers AU (cuz of obvious reasons) and this managed to make me smile, laugh, broke my heart and then glued the pieces. Very cute concept of Aku being a writer that is forced to write romance and your local cutie bookshop employee Atsushi turns out to be just the expert you need (to wonder why hmmm)!

enshroud me_lostdimension, 6k words

Not sure if E-rated is up your alley, but recommending just in case because it's my all-time favourite. Incredibly gorgeous and poetic writing, this is love, okay, just pure and unconditional love. Incredibly soft and vulnerable, with hurt and comfort on the side because angst is the perfect catalyst of emotion, isn't it.

a hope to return_auroraheart, 11k words

Akutagawa dies and it's fucking beautiful, I need say no more. Just be in a very masochistic mood to read :3 It has a lot of wholesomeness and fun too!! (totally not to trick you into a false sense of security nu nu)

foolish_ringingmaybelles, 13k words

Restaurant AU sickfic! I remember I enjoyed it a lot at the time, it has well-written characters (as with everything I rec here), lot of caretaking and cute little crushes. Also Gin has a pretty important cameo and as an Aku-stan, Gin by default has my heart <3 This author in general has the best sickfics so I advice to check them out if you're in the mood!

dying by design_halfbloom (diphylleias), 5k words

And a shortie for dessert! Imagine this as a missing scene somewhere in the canon material, it does not disappoint in the slightest. It's just them talking on a rooftop, but the characterization is so on point that my jaw was to the floor the whole time, idk how they wrote it so perfectly canonical.

(aaand that's the best of of the best I've found and devoured since the start of my bsd obsession 2 or so months ago. I'm very passionate about sskk and those fics in particular and I selfishly hope this doesn't get lost in the void, happy reading my peeps!) (i definitely have more but trying to have some self-restriction here lol)

I NEED SSKK FICS RECOMMANDATION SOBS

GIMMZ THE SILLIIES

[Any fic works pls I just need something to read 😭]

[flashhwing]

i love the kirkwall squad because they all have such protagonist energy. any of them could be the main character. except for varric but he did that on purpose. any of the rest of them could be the main character

[chloesimaginationthings]

can you. Can you draw scrap baby. And molten Freddy. OMG NO YOU SHOULD TOTALLY DO MILLIE FROM THE BOOKS OMG!!! That would be lit. You know what else would be lit. More circus baby 🥺🙏

I have actually drawn scrap baby before!!

[starry-bi-sky]

jason and danny childhood friends au memes (mild spoilers)

[thesmokinpossum]

If My Body Could Speak, Blythe Baird | The Godfather, Mario Puzo | My Father's House, Sylvia Fraser | To The Daughter Who Secretly Longs For Her Mother’s Affection, Lynne Shako | Storms from Jupiter, Wanda Deglane | DO NOT REPLY, @filmnoirsbian