#dreamy sigh…

[pigeonpine]

davrin you will be mine…

[dabisbratz]

* thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks abt grindin on dabi’s boot thinks *

[b1mbodoll]

vampire jake or jake with a vampire gf….

[ninthhousesteel]

thinking about my ideal haircut…

[amygdalae]

another underrated moment: Laios casts waterwalking

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki who loves nose kisses btw. who's been innocently doing them with you ever since he was small and who still does them now. it's basically a reflex. whenever you're worried for him, or he has to go off somewhere, he presses his forehead to yours. who looks you straight in the eyes with an unspoken promise to be safe. he nods, smushing his nose to yours and nuzzling it softly, almost shyly. and then he's gone again, cheek, ears and nose completely pink.

[xx-justsomeguy-xx]

Kaeya…

[spader7]

i couldn't stand a chance

[skeletood]

the way they like each other is. unique. to say the least.

[teddybeartoji]

toji with a younger s/o toji with a younger s/o what about toji with a s/o who's the same age as him???? not younger, not older – the same.

you get ready for work in the morning together, brushing your teeth side by side, groaning as you stretch your sore bodies. you return home almost at the exact same time and spend the first hour in comfortable silence as you shower together. both tired from your days, you rest your voices; scrubbing each others bodies and washing each other's hair – silent i love you's sinking into your your hands, your skin, your hearts.

then it's time to rant about your days – how neither of you are keeping up with the newest trends and whatever else the younger ones are currently talking about. but it's freeing – being able to laugh together at things like this, not having to surpress the subtle taste of bitterness of being old. but together it's not as scary, it's not as bad. it's fun.

you take turns of teasing one another whenever the other finds a gray hair, you get to choke out a laugh at the raised eyebrows and the glare, no matter which one of you is the joke of the moment. witty remarks about elderly homes are nothing new despite the fact that you are both more than far from any of that.

bedtime comes early – the clock hits ten and you both find yourselves back in your shared bedroom. finishing your skincare routine, you're always greeted with toji and his reading glasses scrolling on his phone as usual. he looks good. and he thinks you look good. he couldn't be happier to be your husband as you crawl under the sheets with him, your hand resting above his heart. he couldn't be happier to be with you. to be spending his 40's and his 50's and 60's and just his whole entire life with you. he couldn't be happier to be growing old with you.

[dabisbratz]

older brother sukuna who occasionally makes mean comments towards you but gets nervous when you ask why he always follows you around. he has a humongous crush on you but doesn’t know how to explain it or tell you so he decides to be mean in a friend way and hope you don’t ever get mad at him

older brother sukuna who’s super protective of you and yuji, he does small things to make sure you’re out of harms way and does much meaner things in private.

older brother sukuna asking you to tutor him at his house, but half way through the session you two start making out and can’t seem to control yourselves.

older brother sukuna that’s all over you the day after, he can’t keep his hands off of you and everyone easily finds out you two are dating.

(bonus points if it’s himbo!reader and he can’t tell that sukuna likes him even when he’s being obv abt it)

omgomgomg coming over to play video games with yuuji but it turns out he’s gone out shopping with megumi n nobara, so sukuna invites you in n tells you it’s fine if you just… wait for him to come back. you like seeing him but you’re not too sure what to say, filling the silence with dumb rambling n basically talking in circles while he stares you down n imagines your lips doing other things. that is… until you mention someone he knows— someone who’s just as much a horndog as he is, someone he’s explicitly told you were off limits to… n suddenly his protective instincts take over, he’s grabbing you n holding you close n asking if he hurt you or touched you— anything. but you just look so confused, sweet face puzzled as you shake your head n talk about how nice everyone is so nice to you— how they’d never do anything to hurt you!! you’re just so sweet n naive, n sukuna has to hold back from snapping at you bc of it. he’ll just have to show you the truth one way or another…

[b1mbodoll]

my friend bought me a boynextdoor album n i pulled leehan again ohhh he wants me

[plumadot]

Your art is like honey and marshmallows. It makes me feel so giddy! I love it! If you don’t mind can you do desert duo?

can we still be friends?

[mail-me-a-snail]

user feedback on the builder's league branded robot strap has been abysmal, if not downright catastrophic.

[kaijugroupy]

ok but hear me out. how fun and crazy would it actually be if we talked about asexuality as a spectrum more?

consider this? aces who like sex but don't like being touched themselves? aces liking and getting off on pain stimulation but not pleasure stimulation? Aces who don't like getting off but like sex? Aces who use a one to ten scale to gauge sexual ability but never fully make it to ten. Aces who are happy at a level seven, or four, or two. Aces who like some aspects of sex but not all. Aces who get bored in the middle of sex and stop. Aces who are super into over the clothes stimulation. Aces with boundaries.

[capquinn]

Twenty-five | Q. Hughes

summary: celebrating the birthday boy pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: fluff word count: 1.5k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s Quinn’s birthday, a milestone that feels both big and small at once. He’s twenty-five today, and while that number doesn’t carry the weight of a major life milestone, it still feels significant — halfway to thirty, a solid mark of adulthood. You’d planned a quiet evening to celebrate, something intimate and close to home. Quinn is quietly disappointed that his brothers couldn’t make it this year, both tied up with their own schedules, but having his parents here makes up for it. It’s just the four of you, gathered together in the cozy warmth of the apartment, and while it’s not the whole family, it still feels special — exactly the kind of celebration he needs.

You had spent the day preparing a homemade dinner, and you’d practically banished him from the kitchen, determined to make it a surprise. The kitchen had been your domain as you chopped vegetables, seasoned meat, and stirred sauces, with Quinn sneaking in every so often, leaning against the counter, stealing bites of food before you could swat his hand away. You had shooed him back into the living room more than once, reminding him that it was his birthday and he was supposed to relax. Not that he listened.

Now, as you all sit together around the small dining table in his apartment, the glow from a few candles casts a soft light across the room. There’s a warmth in the air, a kind of contentment that comes from being surrounded by people who know him well, who love him unconditionally.

Jim is laughing at something you said, Ellen chuckling beside him as she rests her hand on his. Quinn leans back in his chair, watching the interaction with a soft smile, a touch of shyness in his eyes as his parents begin sharing stories from his childhood. Tales that paint him in a more vulnerable light — like how he insisted on sleeping with a nightlight until he was almost ten. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can tell he’s both endeared and slightly embarrassed, glancing at you now and then to gauge your reaction.

“Remember when you were five?” Ellen asks, a playful glint in her eye as she focuses on Quinn. “You insisted on a hockey-themed birthday cake, but you hated the taste of the frosting.”

“Oh, come on, mom,” he groans, ducking his head with a laugh. 

You grin, leaning forward to catch his eye. “Wait, so you asked for a cake you didn’t even want to eat?”

“He just wanted to see the players on the cake,” Jim interjects, shaking his head. “But the second he had a taste, he decided the whole thing wasn’t for him. I think we ended up eating half of it ourselves.”

Ellen winks at you, then nods subtly toward the kitchen, signalling it’s time for the final surprise. You give her a quick smile, and together, you rise from the table, Quinn’s curious gaze following you as you disappear into the kitchen. 

The cake is waiting, just as you’d left it: chocolate with a glossy layer of frosting spread just a bit unevenly across the top. Strands of icing form the words "Happy Quarter of a Century, Quinn�� in a looping script that you painstakingly wrote out, and the letters tilt a little at the end. The centrepiece is a dorky “25” candle, its red and white wax standing proudly amidst a scattering of chocolate shavings and sprinkles that you and Ellen had added for good measure. The whole thing looks as much a labour of love, with little imperfections here and there, but it’s endearing, perfectly imperfect — and so very him. 

As you approach the dining table, Ellen flicks off the lights, and together you break into song. Quinn glances up, caught mid-laugh at something his dad said, but his words fall away as he takes in the sight of the cake. His face lights up with surprise and a touch of embarrassment, and he ducks his head with a grin, trying to play it cool even as his cheeks flush in the warm candlelight. 

As you set the cake down in front of him, Quinn’s eyes flicker to the stringy icing and he chuckles, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you into his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you settle in.

“Quarter of a century, huh?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Makes me sound older than I am.”

You playfully roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “Please, you’re barely mid-twenties. No sympathy from me.”

He grins, his hand resting comfortably on your waist as you both lean into each other. Then, you join in with Ellen and Jim’s singing, your voices mingle in a warm, off-key harmony.

For a second, Quinn is not quite sure what to do with himself. He's used to being in the spotlight, but this feels different — more intense, almost overwhelming. It’s not the roaring crowd at the rink or the flashing cameras; it’s the quiet attention of just a few people, the ones he loves most, their eyes on him with warmth and pride. He shifts a little in his seat, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans his forehead against your shoulder, hiding his blushing cheeks out of view.

“Oh, come on, birthday boy, don’t hide,” you tease. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, fingers brushing through the soft hair there, silently telling him that he’s not alone in this. He laughs, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. 

He shifts, glancing up at you with a sheepish grin, his cheeks pink in the candlelight, but the look in his eyes is full of affection. “You didn’t have to go all out,” he murmurs, though the smile he’s trying to suppress gives him away. His hand is firm at your waist, holding you close, and you can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat as you both sway a little to the rhythm of the song.

“Yes, I did,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his, and the warmth in your voice makes his smile grow wider. It’s sweet and quiet between you, the room filled with the gentle hum of the birthday song, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you.

Ellen’s voice is quiet as she finishes the final note. She claps, and then softly says, “make a wish, sweetheart.”

She steps back, giving you both a knowing smile as she takes her seat beside Jim, the two of them watching with that quiet joy only parents seem to have.

“Alright, alright,” he says, straightening up, and you can feel his fingers tighten on your hip as he closes his eyes, pretending to be lost in thought. You can’t help but laugh, and he nudges you with his shoulder, both of you sharing a private smile as he finally leans forward to blow out the candle.

The flame flickers once, then vanishes, leaving only the faint tendrils of smoke curling up from the “25” candle. 

Quinn turns his face to yours, and in the dim light, you can see the soft flush of pink deepening on his cheeks, the happiness in his eyes as he pulls you in a little closer. You’re both still giggling, the joy of the moment filling the space between you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his lips pressing gently against your cheek, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a gentle touch, barely there, but the warmth of it spreads through you, making your heart swell. You can feel the soft flutter of his breath against your skin, and for a second, everything else fades away.

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer, your cheek resting against the side of his head. It's fleeting but the moment stretches on between you, lingering in the soft space between breaths. His arms around you, your fingers twisting through the ends of his hair — it feels as if you have all the time in the world, wrapped up in each other, letting the rest of the world spin on without you.

From across the table, Jim clears his throat with a teasing grin. “Alright, lovebirds, are we ever getting to that cake, or is it just for show?”

Jim's words break the spell, his teasing grin making you laugh as you glance up. Ellen gives him a nudge, but she’s smiling too, clearly enjoying the moment just as much.

Quinn gives a little chuckle, shaking his head as he glances at his parents with that familiar mix of affection and playful exasperation.

Reluctantly, you pull back, reaching for the knife, and as you do, Quinn’s hand slides up your back to lay at rest between your shoulders. You cut into the cake, the knife slicing through layers of rich chocolate, and as you pass the first piece to Jim, Quinn leans in close again, resting his chin on your shoulder with a contented sigh.

In that moment, surrounded by his parents’ laughter, with Quinn’s arm wrapped around you, it feels as if time itself has paused. You share a quick glance, and the unspoken connection between you is a quiet certainty. Of knowing that these are the moments you’ll cherish — today, tomorrow, and for every birthday still to come.