#dovey drabbles

[doveywovy]

from an au where tobirama and izuna are on the same genin team and izuna just had a radical perspective shift about tobirama:

------------------------

“Izuna.” Tobirama says, staring him down. “You stole the water jutsu off that Kiri-nin, yes?”

Of course Tobirama had noticed his activated sharingan. “And if I did?” 

“Explain it to me.” Tobirama demanded. He pauses for a moment, before adding, “Your fire chakra nature won’t lend well to it. I could put it to better and more immediate use.” 

Previously, Izuna would’ve been furious. He’d have taken it as an insult to his abilities, Tobirama for a braggart, and he would’ve tackled Tobirama and started a fistfight for his entitlement. Instead, entirely despite himself, he wobbles. 

How cute! Tobirama’s little pout seems so obvious now that he’s looking for it. His hurried explanation for his demands, how foolishly certain he is that Izuna will hand over the jutsu. Like a toddler demanding candy. 

Just this once, Izuna decides. Just once. “Alright.” He tells him. “But you’ll have to tell anyone who asks that I’m the one who gave it to you!” 

Tobirama looks a little startled that he’s actually given in to the request, but nods exactly once in agreement. 

Tobirama watches very closely as Izuna runs through the signs. His focus, for once entirely positive, is heady. He waits until Izuna has gone through it twice, before he attempts to replicate them without putting any charka into it. He glances towards Izuna for reassurance. Izuna’s briefly hit with a regret that Tobirama had replicated them perfectly. The bastard had no need for correction, annoyingly enough, so he simply gave an agreeing, “Hn.”

 Apparently that was enough to give Tobirama confidence in actually trying the jutsu; the sparkling mist burst forth within seconds. Tobirama’s hair turned damp, a few thicker droplets forming and dripping down his face. 

He smiles- a small, tight, but honest thing. He smiles at Izuna. 

I need, Izuna thinks with a fervent certainty, to steal more jutsu. 

[teddybeartoji]

彡 NO GARDEN CAN BLOOM WITHOUT THE SUN

☆. contains: bf!satoru gojo x gn!reader; fluff fluff fluff!!!! they're in love!!!!!! satoru is the king of acts of service!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wc: 1.5k

"c'mon, show me those chompers, baby!"

sat on the bathroom counter, you watch your boyfriend bare his fangs at you in the most adorable way. his eyes are pressed shut, his smile so wide that it's almost reaching his ears – he's showing how you should do it.

unable to contain the sleepy chuckles that bubble up your throat, satoru's eyes crack open. he's sleepy, too. but he's still here; he's still determined to make you happy, to make you feel good, to make you smile. he's determined to take care of you no matter what.

he ushers you with a laugh of his own, showing you the lump of toothpaste sitting on your new toothbrush.

(he bought you matching ones the other day. he's very proud of himself.)

(you love him.)

you can't say no to him. his free hand squeezes your waist, a sign that he's here and he's waiting. he's not being impatient, though – no, never that. he's just reassuring; skin on skin, he wants you to know he's never leaving.

to him it isn't dramatic to be thinking about his everlasting devotion while doing a menial task like this (if you can even call it that) – it's more than normal actually. he simply cannot stop; you're eating him from the inside and he's grateful.

you do as he says and clench your teeth together while pulling your lips back. you're sure you look a little silly but satoru couldn't disagree more.

"there we go! you look like a little tiger!" he leans in and brushes his nose against yours, making it scrunch up and that makes him giggle in turn. he feels giddy around you, he feels like he's in heaven.

he wets the toothbrush before bringing up to your mouth. he takes his hand from your hip and places it on your jaw instead, gently guiding your face up so he can see a little better.

bristles brush against your enamels and you peer at satoru. he looks awfully concentrated – he's cute like this. there's a small crease between his brows, his crystalline eyes glued to your canines as he watches your mouth fill with foam.

blindly, you play with the hem of his shirt; your fingers graze his marble skin and he shudders at the light touch. the fluorescent light coming from behind you illuminates his face and you waste no time in counting the freckles that adorn his skin. again. you've done it a thousand times before and you'll do it a thousand times more. they're your stars – his smile being the sun and his pretty blue eyes the equivalent of the moon in the sky. he's your guide during the day and the night, you'd be utterly lost without him.

he's your world.

satoru wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the extra toothpaste that's threatening to trickle down your skin and smears it into his shirt, laughing loudly when you gasp at his antics. you smack his stomach and watch his head loll back with a dopey grin. his chest rumbles, hearty giggles bubbling up his throat. his adam's apple bobs before he lowers his head back down, his gaze meeting yours. he's so full of love, he just might burst.

"was gonna wash it anyway."

he looks proud of himself and you snort at his answer.

"yersuchachild."

the toothpaste in your mouth is making it hard to sound serious, your words coming out all muddled and slurred as you splutter at him. he doesn't care for your lecturing – his mind is filled with hearts and sparkles and rainbows and kittens and puppies and pastries and warm blankets and glitter and roses and the color pink and the color red and your eyes and everything else that could possibly be associated with the word love. he watches your mouth move and he sees flower petals falling, he watches you blink and he sees shooting stars, he watches you breathe and he feels at home.

he's your air.

you're a perfect match – you breathe him in and he makes a home inside your lungs. you keep him safe, you cradle him with your gentle hands and hide him from the cruel world. and he in turn takes care of your heart; he warms it, he tends to it like it's a garden. he waters and he weeds, he plants new seeds and he reaps what he has sowed with the softest smile in the world.

no garden can bloom without the sun.

satoru places the toothbrush in your mouth before yanking the dirty t-shirt off of his body. he raises his brows, seeking for praise. "better?"

you nod sleepily and the brush between your teeth bounces up and down, making satoru laugh again. you give him a smile and his breath hitches just a little. all foamy and pretty – he loves you so fucking much.

he goes back to his job, carefully brushing over your front teeth and then the sides. he gives your cheeks a squeeze, telling you to open up again and then he's leaning in so close that you almost choke on the paste in your mouth. a smirk tugs on his lips as he squints his eyes, glaring at your teeth like he's a proper dentist.

your fingers itch for him and you refuse to suffer when he's right there; you trace over the scars that cover his tummy, his whole body, and you hum. finally, you decide to just rest your hands on the waistband of his pyjamas – you need to be touching him, always and forever.

but the sleepiness is starting to take over; your eyes feel heavy and satoru doesn't miss your slow blinks. he speeds up his movements, whispering for you to show him your tongue. he quickly cleans it, intent on giving you his hundred percent.

when he deems that he's finally done, he takes the brush from your mouth and leans back, taking a good look at the masterpiece before him; half-asleep, mouth covered in toothpaste & content. he couldn't wish for anything else.

without giving you time to react, he lunges forward, pressing his plump lips against yours. he holds your cheeks like you're made out of glass and you grasp at his skin like he's about to fade away—

— but you won't break and he won't disappear.

seperating from him, you're met with the most bashful fucking smile in the world. his hands rest on his hips and he really couldn't be more proud of himself. frothy lips and sparkling eyes, you simply stare at him and just let the butterflies fill your stomach. there's no stopping them anyway.

"okay, c'mon, sleepyhead." satoru taps your thighs. "wash your mouth."

he comes up close again, his nose touching yours. "or do you want me to do that for you, too?"

he's a little cocky and he's a little smug and you think it's only fair; he has every right to be – you're wrapped around his finger like honey around a dipper. but alas, you plop off the counter and press yourself flush against him before turning around and facing the sink. he doesn't move, staying glued behind you like it's where he's meant to be.

(it is.)

his arms snake around your middle, patiently waiting for you to finish cleaning up. satoru sways his hips, gently, as if trying to lull you to sleep. he stares at you through the mirror, unable to tear his eyes from you. his own shirt drapes over your figure, soft skin peeking from under the collar, just waiting for him to press his lips against it. you feel like putty in his hold, like his own personal plushie and he has never been this excited to go to bed. he can't wait to sleep with you – to curl around you, to hug and kiss, to feel your heartbeat under his heavy head.

(every morning he wakes up already dreaming about spending the night with you again. you rest together, you heal together.)

you raise your head from the sink and satoru is already handing you a towel. you thank him with your eyes and dry yourself off. he rests his head on your shoulder and your fingers crawl between his messy white strands, you rub at his scalp and he closes his eyes. a purr reverberates through his body and then through yours and another smile makes it's way onto your face. it's inevitable; he just makes you so fucking happy.

hearts beating together, you stand there in your bathroom. it feels special, it is special – he always makes you feel like this, no matter where, no matter when; like a lock and a key, like a blanket and a pillow, like a piece of paper and a pen, like rain and thunder, like the ocean and the beach—

— like a ray of sunlight and a blooming flower.

+ hii my beloved satoru lovers just felt like tagging you guys bc... i felt like it<333 @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @staryukis @mossmurdock @neptuneblue @lxnarphase @nkogneatho @cockaiine @kentophilia @sugulani @13curses @blankwashed i love you

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto’s been staring at you for a good 5 minutes now.

you’d figured he was zoning out about three minutes in but then you looked up from your homework at him and he smiled at you, that cute little loverboy smile he does that have your legs feeling like jelly and has your heart push against your chest like it wants to escape.

okay so he wasn’t zoning out. then what is it ? did you have something on your face ? was he waiting for you to say something ?

"is there something on my face ?" you blurt out, already wiping at your chin and around your mouth

he blinks, registering your question and his eyebrows furrow lightly “no, there isn’t.” he answers curtly. reaching his colder hand up to pull your hand away from your face. you’re so much more confused now that you fail to realize he held onto your hand for a moment longer than necessary.

“so then why are you staring at me ?”

he lightly tilts his head to side at that, looking at you questioningly “ why should i not be looking at you ? does it bother you ?”

“wh—no no !” you sputter, he’s flipped the tables on you now “ i was just wondering what was up because you’ve been staring for..a while now” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. his eyes widen just a fraction and you think maybe you got it all wrong somehow and he was zoning out, but then he’s lowering his head in shame “i’m sorry, yn. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my staring..” he apologizes.

you’re frantic, shaking your head so hard you fear you’ll twist your neck and waving your hands hurriedly “ no, no, no ! it’s okay, sho ! you didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything !” you feel relieved when the tension on his face dissolves the slightest bit “ i was just curious, that’s all” you sigh, your arms fly back next to you because you feel like your sweating buckets and you really don’t want him seeing pit stains.

he hums like he’s thinking about something then suddenly a small smile breaks onto his face and you feel like you’ve been hit dead on by a semi truck. shoto todoroki’s ability to be so effortlessly pretty is and will forever be an enigma to you. “ i like looking at you” he starts “ whenever you do mundane things like studying, you always have this look on your face. i like it, i think it’s cute.”

okay, so turns he was out to kill you.

“ i-i do ?” he responds with a simple “mhm”. you feel like you’re sweating a lot more.

“oh.” is all you say. it’s all you can say because what the hell were you supposed to say ?!

shoto doesn’t look all that bothered by it, cool as usual, simply opting to keep staring at you. you fiddle with your fingers for a bit before you lift your head up to meet his unwavering stare “ i—uhm—thank you.” you whisper. he shakes his head “don’t thank me, you don’t have to. if you want me to stop, i can try to.”

he can try to. you feel like you’re losing your mind.

you’re way beyond flustered now. todoroki’s not a man of many words but when he does use them it throws you for a complete loop, you feel like you’re on a rollercoaster. “no that’s fine.” you answer meekly.

“you’re sure ?” you nod and he hums. “okay then, if you don’t mind.”

“it’s fine” you confirm, feeling your face heat up. “i like looking at you, too.”

you definitely like looking at the handsome smile that forms on his face from your words.

[interstellarlyinlove]

Bed Sharing (May 18th)

word count: 471

@wolfstarmicrofic

“You know what annoys me?”

Remus huffs, tugging at the blanket that Sirius is hogging. “Sharing a tiny twin bed with someone who doesn’t understand that also means sharing the blanket?”

Sirius laughs, letting go. “Sorry, love. I didn’t realize. Are you comfortable?”

Remus smiles. He’s with Sirius, of course he’s comfortable. Still, he says, “No.” 

“Too bad,” Sirius says. “You’re stuck with me. All winter break.”

“Lucky me,” Remus says, and he’s giggly despite himself. He loves spending winter breaks with the Potters, and he loves spending them there even more now that he and Sirius figured their shit out. 

“Candles,” Sirius says, tugging at Remus’ hair. 

“Huh?” Remus asks because he mostly loses neurons when his hair gets played with. Sue him. But also he’s pretty sure candles have nothing to do with anything at the moment.

“What annoys me. Candles.”

“Sure,” Remys says. “Why not. Let’s hate candles. Who needs to see in the dark, anyway. Might as well be blind for–”

Sirius is laughing. “I don’t hate the concept of candles, necessarily–”

“What the fuck are you going on about, my darling?”

“I hate that they have candle memories. I don’t burn a candle right one time and it’s fucked up for life. Like, grow up.” 

Remus blinks. He’s so fucking in love. “It is kind of unkind to hate something for having a memory though, isn't it?”

Sirius smiles, and it’s blinding. Even more so in the barely lit Potter guest room. The only thing Sirius’ parents did right in their entire existence was naming Sirius after the brightest star in the sky. Remus would believe that the star was named after Sirius and not the other way around in a second. “That is a very prettily-worded question.”

“You are a very prettily-named person,” Remus says, kissing Sirius’ temple. “It also really isn’t hard to just let the candle burn correctly the first time so you don’t fuck it up for life.”

“It’s the principle of it, Remus.”

“Because you’re such a principle person.”

Sirius looks scandalized. “I could be!”

Remus laughs. “I’m joking, babe.”

“Ha ha, hilarious,” Sirius says, and Remus thinks Sirius wants to scowl but he’s smiling too much for it to work. “Are you tired?”

Remus shakes his head. “Not really.”

Sirius holds out his hand, palm up. “Come. I want to show you something.”

Remus hates apparating, and he’s in night clothes that are far too light to be anywhere but under blankets on a tiny bed in the middle of winter, but it’s Sirius, and Remus would follow him to the end of the world if he asked him to. So Remus takes his hand, and they apparate together to wherever Sirius wants to take them at 2 am on a Tuesday, and Remus wouldn’t have it any other way.  

[tilda-rothery]

Leonora sits on bed, a pair of spectacles perched precariously on the end of her nose, knitting needles in hand, she counts her stitches, following the pattern to the letter.

Clarissa comes in and begins talking about her day, Leonora isn’t listening, muttering numbers under her breath.

Clarissa realises Leonora isn’t paying any attention to her and begins testing Leonora’s concentration, hoping to break it.

“You know, Emma professed her undying love for me today.”

She begins to undress, removing her outter skirts, letting them fall to the floor.

“That’s great Dove, but I’m trying to count, six, seven, eight, decrease. One, two, three...”

“Hmm, she said we should run away together.” she pouted, looking through hooded eyes at Leonora while her magic undid the lace of her corset. She threw it on the bed. It landed at Leonora’s feet.

Leonora barely looks up, “Uh-huh.”

“That I deserved someone who took five minutes away from their knitting to listen about the trials and tribulations of my day.”

Leonora’s brows furrow and she checks her row, she huffs and unravels a good chunk of her stitches, “Did she?”

“She did, but I said ‘I’m sorry Emma, as lovely as the offer is, I couldn’t possibly think of running away with you. I could never reach the same level of satisfaction with you as I do with Leonora. There is no one more skilled with their hands, or mouth, than her.’”

“Four, five, six... That’s lovely, Dove.”

Clarissa rolls her eyes and continues to shed the rest of her clothing. She slowly crawls up the bed, coming to rest in Leonora’s lap.

“Dove,” Leonora’s tone is exasperated, “I’m trying to knit, I’ve had an awful day, and I just need something to focus my hands on before I strangle someone,” she frowns as she puts her knitting down and looks at Clarissa, “why are you naked?”

“Had you been paying attention when I came in, you’d know you’re not the only one who needs to de-stress.”

The knitting is soon forgotten.

Honestly, when I'm half way into a row when knitting or crocheting and someone starts talking to me as I'm counting stitches, I barely take-in a word they say.

I just smile and nod...

[oddsconvert]

Graphic design is my passion 🔥 /j

My super awesome fabulous (terrible and done quickly in like twenty minutes) layout for Felix's house and his surrounding land! There's also high fencing all around his property :)))

[strxnged]

i like to think that for vincenzo, cha-young really is his first requited love. yes, he's a charmer, and it's fairly clear that he has some kind of experience with women. he can flirt, charm, court, seduce, cajole, and romance almost anyone. he's aware that he can do this, but his experience with such things in only counterfeit contexts is that there is no meaning to it. he hasn't, in his life, had the opportunity to meet someone that wants something out of it. he hasn't met someone who wears their heart on their sleeve—until cha-young. cha-young, at whose face, not long after meeting her the first time, he spat, and mouthed her off in italian. cha-young who's worked for the enemy. cha-young who needs no one to stand up for her. cha-young, whose fragile pride and earnestly transforming heart are no match for vincenzo's hardened shell of one. he may refuse to see her as a partner, knowing that she trusts him blindly and will only learn a morsel of what evil lives in his soul. and yet she is significant—and yet he depends on her—and yet he misses her presence and wants to protect her from himself, and more importantly, his past. she is genuine and strange and good.

but in each of their fumbling awkwardness, he loves her. he loves her because nothing is forced and nothing is transactional. he shouldn't love her because to love her is to endanger her. but he never claimed to be a good man, and he never asked for her to love him back.

[rhiochel]

*Lesso backhugging Dovey in the kitchen on a Sunday winter morning while cooking breakfast*

Sophie walking in on them: I don’t have enough caffeine in my system to deal with this right now

Agatha already sitting on the countertop with two cups of hot cocoa on her hand, pushing the other cup to Sophie: It’s been three hours and there’s no single meal made

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

I was in such a god-awful mood and then I came on here and HyunChan shifted it almost completely.

[doveywovy]

from an au where technically tobirama marries the entire main house of the uchiha for convoluted cultural reasons, but ultimately almost all of his new husbands are straight and at least one just wants to murder him. Izuna is in love with him but hiding it, and getting his most forbidden desire (married to his rival) in this way (unable to express actual affection, sharing said spouse with four other people) is...stressful for him.

------

Five husbands. It’s quite the sum, and the sort of thing that Hashirama would read about in his books pilfered from passing noble ladies. Less titillating in reality, for a number of reasons.

Tobirama greets them each, his own face calm and blank. His new husbands have much less of a handle on things. They’re lined up by age. First is Madara’s Great-Uncle from his mother’s side, Hyousuke. The man is in his late seventies, which is a sign of great accomplishment or great cowardice for a shinobi- difficult to discern. The old Senju reports made him out as a poison specialist, and his extremely disdainful expression makes it obvious that this will be a matter of concern for Tobirama. The man had once had a wife, a decade and a half past, but she had died and he’d not taken on another. His three children had all died in the war, though none- as far as he could discern- by Tobirama’s own hand. 

  After Hyousuke was Hikaku, Madara’s cousin on his father’s side. a nervous looking man in his thirties with an attempt at a polite smile plastered on. He’s the only one with a living wife; no children, as of yet, though with the peace treaty in place they’re likely to be trying. She’s in attendance, a place of importance, but with an obvious distance to the presumed threat he presents. He’s curious how they’ll go about ensuring them apart longterm- not that he’ll seek her out, but simply by nature of housing. 

Madara himself at last, a respectable boiling rage hidden behind an excessively firm grip. Twenty-five is a bit late for a first marriage, especially a first marriage that can’t produce an heir. Tobirama certainly won’t complain; if Madara had a wife, or another husband, they might feel very tempted to take issue with him. This was difficult enough as it is. 

Izuna- of course, Izuna was the one that had worried him most, initially. But the man greets him with a blank sort of certainty. His sharingan flickers on when Tobirama drinks from his cup- perhaps on instinct, or perhaps an intimidation tactic. It flickers back off soon after, his expression never shifting. 

Kagami is nine. His primary emotion is an understandable fear. It takes him twice as long as the others to perform the ceremony, and he wobbles as he does it. Tobirama waits patiently, and takes the cup from him gently. He affords the boy an encouraging smile at the end of it; decorum can be put aside slightly given the unusual circumstances. 

The entire main family of the Uchiha, and him. 

----

The husbands have a meeting, excluding Kagami. He’d been sent off to training while the rest of them gathered in the center of the main family’s house. 

“I’ll kill him.” Hyousuke offers very affably. “Even if I get caught, I’m old enough you can claim senility and the clan won’t be troubled for it.” 

Izuna smiles. His eyes are pitch black and unreadable, and he says, “Thank you for the kind offer, but I think it’s best if we wait a while, Great-Uncle.” His hands are very still, and his voice doesn’t dip. 

Hyousuke nods along. 

--

“What are you doing?” Madara prods, not entirely sure which one he’s asking. Kagami, still dangling from Tobirama’s arm, looks perplexed. 

“I’m playing. What’s the good of a wife if he can’t play?” 

Tobirama, the bastard, nods. 

--

“If Hyousuke manages to kill him we’ll really be in trouble.” Izuna says. Madara isn’t sure about that- Tobirama dying would solve a lot of their issues, and if Hyousuke’s caught then he’ll lose standing in the clan and they won’t have to deal with his demands anymore. But Izuna seems certain- he’s dramatic, playing it up comedically, but he’s not one for joking about a position he doesn’t hold. 

---

Hyousuke is dead.

It was only a matter of time, at his age. Tobirama does a respectable job as a grieving widow, considering he’s still got four living husbands and Hyousuke wasn’t much of a spouse when alive. More importantly, he’s entirely secure from accusations of being responsible- he’d been with the other Uchiha wives at the time of Hyousuke’s death. 

An astoundingly good alibi, that could only be doubted if one was willing to call into question the abilities or honesty of the entirety of the Uchiha wives. Madara isn’t stupid enough to try. 

[roosterbox]

October Almost-Drabbles 10/13: Maze

Pairing: Steddie, implied Eddie x Chrissy (for like a SINGLE line)

Word Count: 1,027. God fucking dang it.

Additional tags: modern AU, single dads, implied meet-cute, Max is a lil shit and also Eddie’s daughter, Dustin is a sweetheart and also Steve’s son, Max’s POV

Side note: I TRIED TO KEEP IT SHORT. I SWEAR I TRIED. But as you can see, I failed, so this one goes under a cut, lol. The maze aspect was just a jumping off point, so I’m sorry it doesn’t play more of a part. Most of these prompts are of a similar nature for me - inspiration, though I may go off the rails a bit in the actual execution.

Anyway, enjoy!

———

“Our dads are gross.”

Max looked back at the two men trailing behind her and Dustin. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could see their expressions just fine, thank you very much. Her dad, always animated with his hands, was talking and gesturing wildly. She could see the flash of sunlight against his rings. Dustin’s dad seemed to be listening intently, smiling. And blushing. Every now and then he’d interject, probably asking a question about the story. They were both making absolutely ridiculous goo-goo eyes at each other. Ugh, disgusting. She made a gagging noise and looked away.

“Super gross,” Dustin agreed. The path split a few yards ahead, and the kids decided silently as a unit to continue together down the left side.

“Don’t get too far ahead, Dust.” The boy’s dad called out. They were following at a respectable distance; close enough to keep an eye out, but far enough to give the kids some measure of independence. Dustin slowed down a little, giving a thumbs up. His dad visibly relaxed. Max saw her dad give the other man a comforting arm squeeze. In a touch that, in her opinion, lingered a bit too long.

She scowled. “D’you think we could lose them? In the maze?”

“We shouldn't.” Dustin looked nervous. “My dad gets really worried about stuff like that. This one time, my friend Mike and I got separated from him at the mall, and he totally freaked out.” He shuddered. “Never seen my dad cry before that.”

Max shrugged. “My dad cries all the time. Shoulda seen him at the last Disney movie we watched. He cried more than me. I didn’t even cry when I got this!” She waved her arm, in a cast from wrist nearly to elbow. “But before that, before he found you, was it fun? Hanging out without him?”

“I guess,” the boy was looking at his shoes. “But I don’t think it was worth it.” He glanced back at his dad again. “He seems happy.”

The two men walked comfortably side by side. Their arms were brushing as they moved, and if Max knew anything about her dad, he was actively fighting the urge to take his new friend’s hand. Just then, to her horror, he did. The other guy looked surprised, but then… he grinned. And now it was her own dad’s turn to blush.

“Gross!” She called out.

Her dad waved her off. “Don’t mind her, Steve. Ten years old and already a little adult. I’m going gray before my time.”

Dustin’s dad laughed. “You look fine to me.”

At that, her dad raised an eyebrow. “Oh, ‘fine’ is it now?” He leaned a little closer. There was a very particular gleam in his eye. One Max recognized at a distance, though she might not have known exactly what it entailed. Whatever it was, it was probably more Disgusting Adult Stuff. If they actually kissed, she was going to puke.

Luckily, somebody must have been looking out for her, because as they rounded the next bend…”

“We’re out!” Dustin cheered, making a break for the entrance/exit of the maze. Max ran after him, missing her dad’s quietly disappointed “damnit.” The adults still walked out hand in hand though.

“Did you have a good time?” Dad asked her later, while they were getting settled in the car.

She shrugged. “It was okay, I guess.” He snorted.

“A ringing endorsement.”

Her eyebrow raised in a perfect imitation of him. “What about you? Have fun slobbering all over Dustin’s dad?”

He chose that moment to start the car. “What? Sorry, can’t hear you!” He yelled over the sputter and roar of the engine. One of these days the whole damn thing was gonna fall apart. That’s what Grandpa Wayne said whenever he took rides with them.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. They pulled out of the maze parking lot, and began the long drive back to Hawkins. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up.

“Say, Max… how would you feel about me inviting your new friend over for lunch sometime? Might be fun.”

“Yeah, or you could just ask his dad out on a date or whatever. Dunno why you’re using us kids as an excuse.” She saw him stiffen a bit out of the corner of her eye, but kept her gaze out the window, watching familiar passing scenery.

“What? Me and Steve? A date? Nah, come on.” He tried to play it off, but his face was too pink for her to really believe him.

“Did you at least get his number? Because I remember when you and Chrissy broke up-“

“Hey now-“

“-and that was a freaking nightmare. A solid month of nothing but gross pining.”

He gasped, indignant. “I don’t pine!”

She gave him a flat look.

“It wasn’t that bad!”

Her expression didn’t change. He sighed, resigned.

“Okay, fine, it was bad. But I can’t help it, Max - I’ve always been this way. Big feelings, you know?”

“Oh I know. ‘S why Papa tells me he’s glad I got my mom’s temperament. ‘More than two of you’d be sending me to an early grave, and not a moment too soon.’” That last bit was said in a gruff imitation of Wayne’s voice. Her impression improved every time she did it, and never failed to make her dad laugh.

“Point taken, you little menace. And to answer your question: yes. I did, in fact, get Steve’s number.”

“Gross. I bet you gave him a super cute, disgusting nickname in your contacts too.”

He coughed and focused back on the road ahead. Max smirked. Bullseye.

“Just promise me one thing? Don’t call him as soon as we get home? It was embarrassing enough to watch you guys flirt back there. At least wait until I’m asleep. Or at the skate park. Or anywhere that’s not at the trailer.”

“Deal. Easy. I’ll bet you like ten bucks I won’t even think of calling him until tomorrow!”

And Max immediately agreed, knowing that she’d be ten dollars richer by the end of the day.

He barely held out for an hour.

———

(The nickname was “Pretty Boy,” by the way. In a few months, it’ll get changed to “Sweetheart.” It was “Babylove” for like a day. But then Max borrowed his phone, saw it, and demanded he change it because GROSS, DAD.)

[wolfie-queen-bri]

A Bad Day Interrupted

A bad day, just like so many others lately. No matter how you tried, moments of actual contentment and joy never seemed to last quite long enough to be a mental break from everything. You have been severely depressed for little over a month, but it seems like you finally ran out of tears. Good, you hated making people worry about you.

Looking at the time on your phone, you are disappointed it isn't time to go home. Work isn't bad; the work is easily completed in time and you work with the nicest people you know. However, it is exhausting to consciously keep up the charade of being happy.

You are concerned for yourself. Nothing had happened, you just awoke one day and just been depressed since. On top of that, you are also anxious and self-abusing. Not physically, though the gnawing in your stomach reminds you that you are not eating as much as you probably should.

A lot of the abuse is mental; the thoughts in your head ripping you down to the lowest level of self-deprecation you have ever been. Words are weapons and they are inflicting so much pain.

You look at your phone as it buzzes. A message from your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/whomever. Upon opening, it is a small video clip of a panda cub sitting on a rock. It sneezes so hard it topples over and you can't help but chuckle, smiling a genuine smile for the first time all day.

They knew you were going through personal issues and were helping you look for a good therapist. Everday, they would find ways to show thier love in addition to texts and saying so. You feel guilty but accepted the extra affection, reciprocating the affection as best as you could.

One day at a time, with the love of your life making sure you make it through.

Because you would and have done the same for them.

[tragicallywicked]

hi could u please write a dovesso fic where the whole school is convinced they're together (cus they go on "dates" and walks and are really close) but they actually aren't (cus yk... denial) then probably one student points it out (could be to either one of them but i kinda want it to be lesso) & they go on a wild revelation or something happens to lesso & a group of nevers go to the good school to look for dovey cus they think the "wife" should know first, um its really up to you, thanks!!

Took me a bit to write it, but much much fun! I made fairytali-y Also PS: I made them students at the time because you cannot tell me these two aren't wives while they're deans.

In the enchanted halls of the School for Good and Evil, an intriguing tale of misconceptions and unspoken emotions unfolded daily. Amongst the vibrant student body, two figures stood out: Clarissa Dovey, with her cascading golden hair and gentle aura, and Leonora Lesso, whose mysterious allure drew both admiration and curiosity.

Whispers of their closeness and undeniable bond spread like wildfire throughout the school. The frequent "dates" they shared, the long walks they took together in the moonlit gardens, and the undeniable chemistry they exuded whenever they were near each other fueled the rumors of their alleged romance.

Yet, the truth was far more intricate than the gossipers dared to speculate. Clarissa and Leonora were indeed inseparable, but their hearts were veiled in denial, wrapped in a web of uncertainty. Each harbored profound feelings for the other, yet fear of rejection and the complexities of love kept them from acknowledging what was clear to the world around them.

It was amidst the blooming cherry blossoms one afternoon that everything shifted. A fellow student, a keen-eyed observer, noted the undeniable intimacy between Clarissa and Leonora. Unbeknownst to the two girls, he approached Leonora one afternoon when she was alone, whose countenance was calm but betrayed a storm of emotions underneath.

"Leonora," he began, choosing his words carefully, knowing of her temper, "have you ever noticed how you and Clarissa look like a couple to everyone? You cannot say friends behave the way you two do."

A flicker of surprise danced across Leonora's eyes, swiftly replaced by a sudden sinking realization. If it was obvious to everyone else how she felt about Clarissa, was it obvious to the Ever as well?

"I... How dared you say that," Leonora gasped, rising from her seat with urgency. "Clarissa is—This is none of your business. Stay out of it!"

Throughout that night, she wandered the moonlit gardens alone, wrestling with her emotions, and at last, embracing the truth that lay dormant within her heart. She was in love with Clarissa, and it was time to confront her feelings.

The next day dawned with an unexpected turn of events.

A group of Nevers, friends of Leonora, arrived at the School for Good seeking Clarissa. They had, for months, been witnessing Leonora's emotional upheaval, which had put her on a rampage of self-discovery the previous night. Which, being Leonora, turned into a chaos of evil cursing and pranking that not even the Nevers were withstanding (and those displays were what Nevers perceived as affectionate). As the group traversed the magnificent campus, they came across Clarissa, who was nestled in a secluded alcove, lost in a book. Her gentle smile greeted them warmly, though they sensed an air of unrest near her.

"You need to come right away, Dovey," the Nevers spoke all together, overlapping their complaints, their voices tinged with concern. "Leonora seems to be going through something, and we thought her wife should know first."

Clarissa's eyes widened, her heart beating faster as she tried to comprehend their words. The realization hit her with a jolt of understanding. Her feelings mirrored Leonora's all along, but she, too, had concealed them behind a facade of platonic friendship.

With grace and poise, Clarissa thanked the Nevers for their concern and tried to dismiss the fact she couldn’t stop blushing, while trying to pretend she didn’t also feel the same for Lesso. 

The two girls met at the school's enchanted gardens, where the petals of cherry blossoms gently danced in the breeze. There, Leonora and Clarissa bared their souls to each other, acknowledging the love that had woven its way into their hearts. In a world where fairytales were the norm, their love story transcended the boundaries of good and evil, proving that the most powerful magic was the genuine bond between two souls.

Clarissa and Leonora stood face to face, their emotions laid bare before each other. The weight of unspoken words was replaced by the liberating honesty of their hearts.

"I... I never meant to hide it from you," Leonora stammered, her usually sharp voice softened by vulnerability. "I was scared of losing our friendship if I confessed my feelings. But I can't keep it inside any longer. I love you, Clarissa, more than words can express."

Clarissa's cheeks flushed a delicate shade as she listened to Leonora's heartfelt confession. The walls of denial that she had carefully built around her own emotions began to crumble, leaving her vulnerable to the truth.

"I love you too, Nora," Clarissa admitted, her voice gentle like a breeze caressing a flower petal. "I've been denying my feelings for far too long. You mean everything to me, and I can't imagine my life without you."

As the two girls drew closer, the world around them seemed to fade into a blur. Their hearts beat in harmony, and their souls connected in a dance of pure affection. The magic of their love enveloped them, transcending the boundaries of good and evil. And when they kissed, the whole world seemed to stop only to spin in the opposite direction.

The Nevers, who had watched the scene unfold from a distance, could feel the palpable energy of love that emanated from the couple. They couldn't help but smile, knowing they had played a small part in bringing clarity to their hearts.

[tilda-rothery]

A moment spent bathed in moonlight.

A very quick drabble... literally writing whatever comes to mind

[fdgh54gf145]

I think I should write a halloween drabble (I'm late but my blorbos live in my head rent free....

[tacitusauxilium]

@recreatusamor sent: [  NEEDED  ]  // from shinji

THE   BUDDING  ROMANCE  PROMPTS  / accepting for couples that are just beginning to explore the sexual side of their relationship. 

[  NEEDED  ]  sender approaches receiver and kisses them longer and more passionately than they ever have before. 

The first month that Fuuka and Shinjiro finally moved into an apartment that was a bit of a distance away from Iwatodai had them sleeping in separate rooms. It was only because they didn't know how to sleep together. In the same bed. Being in the dorms, and by themselves, for a while made them both used to being alone. Fuuka had a stuffed animal and Shinjiro had an extra pillow or two.

It took two months in for Shinjiro to finally cave in. He missed her warmth and touches in bed, and dammit, he was going to show her what she was missing. Of course, he had all day to figure out something. And while he was working, Fuuka was home alone and working with Mitsuru on some assignment or something. For once, he was glad work flew by.

As soon as he could get into the doorway, he saw Fuuka wrapped up in a blanket as she was clad in one of Shinjiro's turtlenecks that covered most of her torso and some of her upper thighs. He felt his throat getting dry and the words he wanted to say seemed to slip his mind.

"I, er, hope you don't mind me asking you to come to bed with me? I mean--" Fuuka felt her cheeks heating up and her eyes shifted to the ground with a hint of embarrassment. "--just, come back to bed with me? I miss you and we are young adults, not teens--"

Shinjiro moved swiftly and quietly to his girlfriend and cupped her cheeks and waited for those soft eyes of hers to look up at him. Her breath left her throat as she quickly looked at him and was ready for him to shoot her down.

"You beat me to the punch. I'll come to bed with you and so much more." Shinjiro uttered loud enough for the two of them to hear as his lips clashed passionately with Fuuka's own. Fuuka let out a small gasp and let her arms drop down to her sides, letting the blanket she used to cover herself up fall haphazardly to the ground.

Their tongues danced and their lips quickly smacked against each other, as if they haven't kissed in years. As if they forgot what the other tasted like--it was an addiction, and they wanted more. It was nothing like their very first kiss, but it was damn close to it. Shinjiro was the first to back away first as he gripped Fuuka's hand and dragged her to their bedroom.

"...we will fix my makeshift bedroom tomorrow. I need you. Now."