#fluff at its finest

[d1stalker]

A Peaceful Repose [Logan Howlett]

Summary: After some time away on a mission, Logan comes home, and all he wants to do is be around you

Warnings: clingy logan, showering together, sooo much fluff WC: 1.6k - MASTERLIST

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The door of your apartment slowly creaks open, followed by the sound of a familiar, heavy tread against the wooden floor. Your heart skips a beat, in both relief and excitement—Logan’s back. 

But as he steps into the room, the sight of him makes you pause. He looks every bit as exhausted as you imagined, but it’s more than that. His clothes are torn and stained with dirt and dried blood, and a faint, musty smell of sweat and grime clings to him. His normally fierce gaze is dulled with fatigue, and the well-kept scruff on his face has grown wilder, more unkempt.

Your nose wrinkles slightly as you take in the full picture. “Logan…” you start, hesitating as he drops his bag on the floor with a loud thud. He catches your expression, and despite everything, he smirks, though it’s softer than usual, his eyes gleaming as they meet yours.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and rough, but filled with a warmth that makes your heart swell.

“I missed you too,” you reply, stepping forward to close the distance between you. He reaches out, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close despite the state he’s in. The embrace is tight, almost desperate, and you feel the stiffness in his muscles, the way his body seems to sag against yours, as if holding you is the only thing keeping him upright. And as much as you want to melt into him, as much as you want to rest your head on his shoulder and breathe in his scent, the feel of the grit against your skin pulls you back.

“Logan, you need a shower.” Your voice gently chides as you lean back to look up at him, your hands smoothing over his chest before you brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, your fingers grazing the sweat-dampened strands.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest as he holds you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “I just wanna hold you,” he grumbles, his face nuzzling into your hair.

You tilt your head back a bit, giving him a fond, but pointed look. “Not like this, you don’t,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek before wrinkling your nose again. “Seriously, babe, you stink.”

His mouth quirks into a tired, yet genuine smile, a rare sight that always makes your heart flutter. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he mutters, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

“Go on,” you urge, giving him a gentle nudge toward the washroom. 

But Logan doesn’t move right away. Instead, he gives you a look, one that’s almost boyish in its vulnerability. “Can you come with me?” he asks, almost begging. “I’ve missed you… a lot.”

The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes seem to plead with you, makes it impossible to refuse. You sigh, pretending to be more exasperated than you are, but the truth is, you’ve missed him just as much. “Alright, alright,” you relent, rolling your eyes playfully. “We’ll get cleaned up.”

A hint of relief washes over his features as he takes your hand, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as you lead him toward the bathroom. Once inside, you turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the steam begins to rise around you.

You turn to face him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palms. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” you say softly, reaching for the hem of his shirt. 

His hands cover yours, guiding them as he helps you pull the fabric over his head, his gaze never leaving your face. You can’t help but notice the remnants of bruises and cuts scattered across his body, and your heart aches to see him like this, knowing the toll the mission must have taken on him.

When he’s finally undressed, you shed your clothes quickly and step into the shower. Logan wraps his arms around your waist as he presses his forehead against yours, eyes closing as he takes in the moment.

The warm water cascades over both of you, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, each breath syncing with your own. There’s a stillness between you, a moment suspended in time where nothing else exists but the two of you.

“God, I missed this,” he murmurs affectionately, gazing down at you with a quiet longing. 

“Me too,” you echo your voice barely above a whisper as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy of the moment. You reach for the soap, lathering it between your hands, the bubbles forming quickly as the scent of fresh citrus fills the air.

Logan watches you with an almost reverent expression as you begin to work the soap across his chest, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles. His skin, though scarred and battered, is warm beneath your touch, the tension slowly melting away under the soothing rhythm of your hands.

He lets out a low, contented hum as you wash him, his eyes slipping closed as he leans into your touch. “That feels good,” he breathes, the words rumbling through his chest. 

You smile quietly, taking your time as you work your way across his torso, roaming every inch of him. When you reach his shoulders, you pause, stepping a little closer so you can run your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp.

The sound he lets out is almost a groan, and you can feel his body relax even further as your fingers work through the tangles in his hair. You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s a lazy, unhurried gesture, one that speaks of comfort, and Logan responds immediately, turning his head slightly to capture your lips.

The kiss is slow, achingly slow, devoid of the usual urgency or passion, but instead filled with something deeper—love, trust, and a profound sense of belonging. His lips are warm and soft against yours, and you find yourself sighing at the familiar taste of him.

When you finally pull back, your breath mingles with his, and he opens his eyes to meet yours. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands slide from your waist up to your back, pulling you so close into his orbit that there’s no space left between you. He holds you like this, his chin resting on the top of your head as the water continues to pour over both of you. It’s not about desire, but rather a need to feel you close, to reassure himself that you’re here, safe and sound in his arms.

You continue to wash him, your hands moving slowly and gently over his body, lathering his hair with care as the water rinses away the grime of the mission. Every so often, Logan presses a soft kiss to your forehead or the top of your head, small gestures of affection that make your heart ache with how much you love him.

As you wash the soap from his hair, you reach up to run your fingers through it one last time, making sure it’s clean. You notice his eyes are half-closed as his head begins to droop down toward your shoulder.

“You’re going to fall asleep standing up,” you tease gently, running your hands down his chest before stepping back to grab the showerhead, directing the water over his shoulders and back.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs thickly with drowsiness. “You’ve got magic hands.”

After you’ve both rinsed off, you turn off the shower and reach for a towel, wrapping it around yourself before grabbing one for Logan. He takes it from you with a small, grateful smile, quickly drying off before he wraps the towel around his waist. But before you can do the same, he brings you into his arms again, his damp skin cool against yours as he holds you close.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft as he leads you towards the bed. He pulls back the covers, and the two of you climb in, still damp from the shower. Logan pulls you close, his strong arms encircling you as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck.

The scent of fresh soap and clean skin fills the air, and you can feel the last bits of tension leaving his body as he settles into the bed, his breathing evening out as the warmth of your embrace soothes him.

“You’re warm,” he mumbles.

“So are you,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Your fingers trace soothing circles on his back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Logan hums in satisfaction, his arms tightening around you as he presses closer. 

“You’re my everything,” he whispers.

You turn in his arms so you can face him, your hand resting against his chest. “And you’re mine,” you whisper back, your thumb brushing over his heart in a slow, soothing motion. 

In the quiet of the room, the only sound is the steady rhythm of Logan’s breathing and the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your hand. You feel completely safe, completely loved, wrapped up in his arms, and you know that he feels the same. 

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you hear is his voice, low and filled with affection. “Don’t ever leave me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“Never,” you assure. “I’ll always be here.”

Logan lets out a deep, contented sigh, pressing a final kiss to your temple. And as the warmth of his embrace lulls you into sleep, you can’t help but think about how you were always meant to be here, by his side.

----

[littlejuicebox]

The wish spell worked.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: 10 years post BG3. Follows my HC for spawn Astarion arc. See my other fics for more information, but otherwise the title speaks for itself. :)

Rating/Warnings: PG / allusions to sexual behaviors / fluff / in-game spoilers / lightest bit of angst if you squint but not really / this is self-indulgent af and idc / so sweet it will rot your teeth

Word Count: 2.2 K

A/N: HAPPY 400 FOLLOWERS POST! Thank you to everyone who likes my stories and provides encouragement. I love you all! I originally wanted to post this as a New Years Eve/Day special, but I couldn't get it quite right by then. After several reiterations, this is what we finally have! Hope it was worth the wait and multiple edits for you guys! :)

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If anyone had told Astarion Ancunin a decade ago that he would one day hold Gale Dekarios on a pedestal nearly as high as the one on which he held his darling Tav, the immortal elf might have actually died from laughter. The strange irony and wicked life lessons of fate were not lost on the retired rogue. Unbelievably and annoyingly, Astarion eventually found himself indebted to the wizard in a way he could never repay. 

The wish spell worked.

It had taken years for Gale to feel absolutely ready to cast the spell. Astarion waited — exasperated, impatient, and impetuous — for what felt like the longest ten years of his ageless lifetime to be given the gift of mortality. 

More than once, in the pale elf’s tearful fits of frustration, he accused the wizard of intentionally stringing him along or simply not having the skills to perform such a spell and not wanting to admit it. More than once, you had to calmly remind your husband of the great lengths Gale had gone to find information regarding the act and the even greater risk to both the vampire and the wizard if the spell was not cast perfectly and mindfully. 

It had been a long decade, waiting for that impossible possibility, but the wait had been more than worth it.

Just over ten years after you met that silver-haired rake on the beach, Astarion was miraculously returned to his living, breathing, heart beating, mortal elven form. Surprisingly, not much changed about his appearance. Most notably, his eyes turned a gold-flecked green, and his complexion took on a constant soft pink undertone, permanently tinged by the circulation of his own blood by his own heart. That beautiful undertone caused a delightful blush to creep across his cheeks and ears whenever you teased or aroused him, and you took an even more significant liking to both these behaviors, just to watch that gorgeous rosiness creep across his skin. 

And while you dearly loved that blush, your favorite part of the change had certainly been the steady beating of his heart. You would rest your head on your lover’s chest for hours to savor the sound if he let you, wrapped tightly in the new found warmth of his long limbs.

While you became obsessed with Astarion’s steadily thrumming heart, he’d become obsessed with his reflection. As soon as he’d been able to see himself, your husband had taken to having you sit on his lap while you primped and preened. He would stare into the looking glass with you for long lengths of time, his limbs coiled around your waist and chin often resting on your shoulder as he studied the mirror with a besotted, hazy smile on his face. 

After a few weeks of this, you finally asked your silver-haired husband why he seemed positively obsessed with this new behavior. Astarion’s response had floored you.

“Darling, in my over 200 years, I never imagined I would have a love of my own, nor did I ever imagine what we would look like together. I couldn’t have envisioned such a thing even if I thought it a possibility or wanted to. I simply couldn’t envision myself at all. But now seeing it? I want to commit everything to memory exactly as it is… because it’s the most precious vision in the world to me.”

And really how else could you respond to that apart from kissing your sappy, bleeding heart of a husband and allowing him to continue the practice?

Of course, the two of you behaving as innocent love birds hadn’t been the only thing Astarion wanted to see in the mirror. On more than one occasion, he’d easily charmed you into the throes of passion in perfect view of a reflective surface. Your husband’s darker, more carnal half had become obsessed with watching you two in the act and it certainly thrilled you to know he was trying to commit those sensual sights to memory. You were quite happy to oblige. 

As such, you’d soon found yourself carrying the byproduct of one of your many erotic couplings.

“That was a big one.” Astarion murmurs, and you see a smile creeping across the reflection of his face in the mirror as he glances down and runs his long fingers across the swell of your abdomen. His arms are looped around you as you sit front of the vanity mirror, placing the final touches on your appearance. 

You agree with a gentle hum, moving a hand to your pregnant belly and rubbing circles on the stretch of skin, hoping to calm the young life stirring within. You coo softly to the rolling babe as you finish your primping, “Surely you aren’t thinking about breaking out of there yet, my little love. You have a few more months to go.”

Astarion’s now-warm hands cover yours as the little one seems to do somersaults in response to your voice, causing you to wince slightly as they jolt against your ribs. He presses a tender kiss into your shoulder and chuckles, “This one is strong like their mother and impatient like their father… we may be in for a spot of trouble in a few years, my love.”

You laugh in response as you stand with a pitiable amount of effort and quite a bit of assistance from the supportive arm of your husband. “I believe you’re right… but surely we’ve taken on scarier and more difficult things than a stubborn babe.”

Astarion hums in agreement before pressing a kiss to your swollen stomach, which is hovering just in front of him now, “Surely, darling. Now let us all go say hi to Uncle and Auntie Ravengard. I’m positively famished.”

-----

You are almost out of breath as you walk the final steps toward the entry of the Duke’s home. Astarion had practically begged you to take the carriage all the way through Wyll’s estate, but you waved him off, adamant that a bit light exercise would be good for the baby. The walkway was fully paved, how hard could it be?

As it turned out, you’d severely overestimated your abilities. Though it was just under a quarter mile to the front doors of the manor when you’d decided to exit the carriage, you were no longer the young, lithe woman that traversed the wilds with a petulant vampire a decade ago. The weight of your belly slowed you down more than you would admit. Astarion implored you, more than once and with growing concern and exasperation, to return to carriage. You refused each time, forcing the driver to follow behind at a snail’s pace.

“Gods, I hope this child does not take on your stubborn streak. I will be constantly overrun in my own home.” Astarion huffs, dabbing at the few beads of sweat on your brow with a silken handkerchief as he helps you climb the small flight of stairs at the entryway of Wyll’s home. He rolls his eyes as you laugh, breathlessly, and lean into him for support as he presses a kiss at the meeting point between your cheek and ear. “But, my sweet, as much as I would have preferred we stayed in the coach, you know I adore the way you look with your cheeks all flushed after a bit of… exertion.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at your husband as he traces his hand over your flushed cheek, his expression practically brimming with desire. The flush on the tips of his ears is a telltale sign of his salacious thoughts. If he had it his way, he’d be dragging you into the carriage right there for a quickie. But, he knew you two were nearly running late for dinner with the Duke and forced himself to push all desires aside. For now.

Wyll and his beautiful wife, Euphemia, greet you with a flurry of excitement and hugs. Their two twin toddlers run around in the entryway, a nursemaid trailing behind them.

Wyll wears a kind, soft smile as he addresses the both of you, “Dinner should be just about ready… shall we make our way there? I hope you two don’t mind. We are having work done in the dining room — my beautiful flower insisted upon remodeling — so dinner will have to be served in the Great Hall.”

As the four of you head towards the larger of the two dining areas in the Duke’s estate, Astarion wraps his arm around your waist and runs his hand along the side of your nearly bursting belly once again. There is a subtle pause at the doors of the Great Hall, and your husband’s eyebrows crinkle in a silent question before you gently press a kiss into his cheek and whisper, “Happy Rebirth Day, my love.”

Today marked one year since Gale successfully cast the Wish Spell. 

The oak doors burst open to reveal the faces of everyone you hold dear, all of them shouting, “Surprise!” in unison. Wyll and Euphemia are laughing with delight as the four of you enter the room. Astarion is obviously shocked and overwhelmed as he takes the scene in, but a toothy smile is plastered across his face nonetheless. The elf could not believe that the significance of the date had slipped his mind, nor could he believe that you all went through such great lengths to plan a spectacle on his behalf. 

Everyone showered your husband with a plethora of well-wishes and congratulations. The food was heavenly, and the silver-haired elf dined to his heart’s content. Just as Astarion loved to watch you both in the mirror, you adored seeing him eat and savor real food. You’d pursued cooking as a new hobby in the past few months, just to watch the delight on his face as he tasted any number of delectable things you placed in front of him.

“Have you thought of any names for the baby?” Karlach asks through a mouthful of food as she continues to tear into the lamb shank in front of her.

You smile knowingly. This topic has piqued everyone’s interest and they all turn their gazes in your direction, “Yes, actually… Astarion picked it out. It works well for a boy or a girl, and I think it’s an excellent choice.”

The elf smiles shyly, that subtle flush of his cheeks and ears crawling across his face as you turn your gaze to him and urge him on, “Go on, my love, and tell them the gorgeous name you picked.”

“I… I decided we should name the baby Gale.” Astarion reveals, his hand immediately moving to graze against your swollen stomach as he meets the flabbergasted expression of the wizard sitting across the table with a round-eyed, nervous gaze, “If… that’s okay by you.”

Gale coughs in surprise, nearly choking on the wine he’d just sipped from a goblet. For a moment, you watch as he blinks away tears. You are beginning to truly believe he might leap across the table and tackle your husband in a hug when he rapidly nods instead.

The wizard’s voice cracks with emotion as he speaks, “Y-yes. Thank you, Astarion. That is such an honor.”

Ten years of friendship between two men that once seemed entirely at odds with one another, honored by a namesake given to a precious babe. Fate was a truly remarkable thing.

“It’s an honor you are quite deserving of, Gale.” You respond, reaching your hand across the table to give the wizard’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “May our child have just as much heart, wit, and skill as their namesake. We will be truly blessed.”

A cake with candles is brought about at the end of the meal and placed in front of Astarion as everyone sings an off-key birthday tune. While your husband always seemed to thrive on being held at the center of attention, you noticed with a bit of amusement that his ears and cheeks were flushed pink as everyone focused their eyes upon him. 

While the others continue to sing, you lean closer to your husband and whisper, “I know we will never surpass the wish you made last time, my Star. But go on and make one anyway.”

Astarion’s gaze roams around the room, taking in all the friends he collected this past decade. Then he turns to you and grins, pausing to etch every bit of this moment into his memory before closing his eyes and blowing the candles out to a cacophony of inebriated cheers and whoops.

The elf wished for the only thing he could: a healthy child and a long life with his little love. Fate had already gifted him with more than he could have imagined for himself back in those dark, dank dungeons he once called home. Astarion found himself in want of nothing but the health and happiness of the woman beside him and the safety of their offspring. 

Though he knew it was another selfish ask, and he’d been blessed far more than he had ever expected, Astarion prayed to the gods that he once never thought would answer to grant him this last wish. And just in case they did not hear him the first time, he would be sure to make the same wish every year, until his very last. 

[deantfwinchester]

A Half-Day

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader, same timeline

Ok so i didn't get em both posted n the same day, but two in two days ain't bad!! Hope y'all enjoy :)

Summary: Morning sickness with Baby #2 manifests a little differently than the first go-round. No worries - Joel's gonna take care of his girl no matter what.

Warnings: pregnancy, more euphemisms for vomit, and they already have another little one as well this time.

A/N: self-indulgent fluffy nonsense. guilty as charged

Word Count: 2.7k

____________________________________________________________

It’s better this time around, for the most part at least. Rather than a steady, consistent nausea most mornings when you wake up, this time it’s more intense bouts on scattered days. You’ll admit, it’s nice to not be intimately acquainted with the plumbing every day, but the days that you are? Damn pipes should take you out to dinner, as much time as you’re spending together. An awesome trade, really. 

One morning it’s so bad it doesn’t stop by the time you get to work. You’d left for work during a lull, having been lured into a false sense of security by the temporary return of your sea legs. But now it’s second period, and you’ve left class to hit the lounge bathroom multiple times — this is additionally unpleasant in a public restroom for sure. Once you finish you shut your eyes tight, breathe deep, and pick yourself up off the floor for the fourth — or was it the fifth? — time this morning, and exit the bathroom, straight into your closest friend on campus, the teacher next door to you. 

“Whoa, sweetie, what’s going on?,” she asks, holding your shoulder steady and taking in the sickly expression you’d been too surprised to steel into a smile. Her brows furrow deeper in concern when your eyes are slow to meet her own, “I stopped by your room to grab some of your spare copies, and the kids told me you were gone for the third time?” You stand up straighter and clear your throat, trying to deflect her concern — it doesn’t work.  

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little morning sickness, that’s all,” you nod, attempting to assure both her and yourself. 

“Babe, I heard you, and that wasn’t little. You been doing this all morning?,” she asks, eyes wide and borderline tearful. 

“It’s cool, I’ll get it together. I think,” oh god, it’s happening again. You attempt to swallow and finish your thought. “I-I think that’s the last of it,” you stutter, beginning to sweat a bit. She doesn’t buy it for a second. 

“Absolutely not. You’re benched for today,” she says, ushering you slowly to the couch in the corner of the room. After sitting you down, she grabs a bottle of water and twists off the cap, passing it to you, “Here. Little sips whenever you can manage. If you’ve been doing this all morning you gotta be dehydrated. I’ll let em know you need a sub. Where’s your phone?”

At this point you so badly want to avoid barfing again, you’re done fighting. You let out a tired “classroom,” between slow, measured breaths, and begin to sink into the worn sofa beneath. 

“Okay. Don’t you dare get up! I got your kids, and you’re going home.”

You can’t blame her, you’d be worried sick if the roles were reversed, and going home sounds pretty damn good right now. You nod and lay back against the cushion, closing your eyes and willing the nausea to subside. 

______________________________________________________________

Joel leaves work immediately after getting the call, worried out of his mind. Receiving a call from you outside of your lunch period was odd on its own, but answering it to a voice that wasn’t yours made his blood run cold. Luckily he recognized your friend’s voice fairly quickly as she informed him you needed to go home, and she didn’t want you driving. 

No urging was required, as Joel had his keys in his hand before she could finish making her request. He’d been worrying about you since he left this morning, while you insisted you were fine through a still-queasy grin. He knows you’ll be okay after while, but the fact you’ve been suffering all morning with this is breaking his heart.

Joel gets to school about ten minutes into your planning, and signs into the office, meeting your friend there who takes him to the lounge.

He enters to find you curled in on yourself on the couch, eyes closed like you’re trying to get a little sleep. He crouches down in front of you and gently pushes your hair back from your forehead to rouse you. 

“Sweetheart? You alright?” he croons. 

“Joel?” you say, voice rough with the grain of your battered throat from this morning’s festivities.

“Hey darlin’. I’m sorry you’re still not feeling good. Let’s get you home, huh?” he asks, standing up on his rusty knees and leaning forward to kiss the top of your head before grabbing your hands. “You ready to get outta here?” you give a small, miserable nod, and he feels his heart crack a little. He lifts you gently from the couch and rubs your back as he walks you steadily out the door.

You’re quiet as you make your way to the car. Joel sits you down in the passenger seat and reaches over your shoulder, buckling your seatbelt himself, and you smile in appreciation. 

“Wait what about my car, Joel?” you ask, though you certainly don’t feel like driving. 

“Don’t worry bout that honey, I’ll get Sarah or Tommy to come with me later on and we’ll drive it back. Not a problem,” he replies, squeezing your knee in comfort. You know he means it, too. He’s so sweet about it but you still feel bad. That’s more somebody else has got to do because you couldn’t get your shit together. 

Joel can see the guilt growing on your face, so he starts talking again, hoping to distract you. “You gonna be alright if we pick Vivi up before we head home?” 

“Yeah of course. isn’t it still a little early though?” you ask. It’s still pretty early in the day, not quite eleven o’clock. 

“It is,” he replies with a sober nod, “But i don’t feel like lettin’ you outta my sight anymore today, that’s all.” He tucks your hair behind your ear and puts his hand under your chin, lifting so your eyes to meet his own. Yours begin to water a little bit. You feel like a fucking baby, having to call home and be picked up in the middle of the day. You blink back the tears, and Joel sighs a little before turning away.

Joel gets in the driver’s seat, and sees you shaking a little, so he cranks on the heat. “You warm enough, baby?” and you just nod, keeping your eyes trained forward, and resting your head against the window.

“All right. let me know if you need to stop, or need air, anything, okay?” you give him a small “okay” in reply, and he pulls away. You ride most of the way in silence, but he grabs your hand and squeezes. He's pretty sure you’re upset, but he doesn’t wanna bring it up in case you’re just tired. The hormones have been doing a number on you this go-round.

______________________________________________________________

When he pulls up to the preschool and parks the car, he turns to you and before he can get a word out, the tears begin to fall. You’d spent the ride over trying to swallow the guilt eating at you. Leaving during the school day, making other teachers cover your classes, grading that needed to get done, getting behind on the lesson schedule, and pulling Joel from his own workday — the list of inconveniences you created today ran on loop in your mind. Joel’s eyes widen in surprise at the sudden shift in mood. 

“I'm so sorry, Joel. I’m sorry you had to leave work in the middle of the day to come get me like a fucking kid, this is ridiculous. I couldn’t just get my shit together, this is so stupid!,” you sob, face in your hands. You knew it was coming, and you’d rather not do it with Vivi in the car. Joel looks devastated to see you crying, and you feel the guilt expand. 

“Oh angel, what are you talking about? You think I'd rather be at work than here with you? I couldn’t get to the school fast enough when I got that call, sweetheart,” he says, holding one of your hands and wiping your tears with his other. You look back at him and sniffle, blinking tears away. 

“None of this is your fault, sweet girl. you can’t help that our little menace is in there making you feel so sick.” he says, resting a light hand on your belly to avoid agitating your nausea. “Don't you worry about work, school, the car, anything. That's my job darlin’. You’re doing the heavy lifting already, I'm just lucky enough to get to take care of you in the meantime. Please let me.” Your lip wobbles again, but this time the tears that fall are from joy and admiration. No matter how long you’re together, Joel’s unwavering care and dedication make you feel so loved it’s overwhelming. “Okay sweet girl?” and you nod again. 

Joel reaches over and pulls you into a tight hug, holding the back of your head, and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. Now I'm gonna run in and grab Vivi then we’re heading straight home so you can get some rest, alright?” He kisses you once more and squeezes your hand before getting out of the car.

He approaches the open classroom door and knocks. He's only about half an hour early since today’s a half day, but there aren’t any other parents there just yet. 

The teacher greets him warmly when she comes to the door. “Mr. Miller, hi! you’re a little early, we still have about thirty minutes left in play centers before the end of the day.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I came to get Vivi early so we could head on home. Her mama wasn’t feeling at work so I went to pick her up. Wanna make sure I don't gotta leave again today."

“Oh no, of course! Let me go grab Vivi. I hope everything’s okay, i know you guys are expecting.” 

“Yeah, she’ll be alright. The morning sickness did a number on her with Vivi too, poor thing.” The teacher gives a sympathetic smile and hands him Vivi’s backpack as the Assistant Teacher leads Vivi over holding her hand, which Vivi rapidly releases, running to the door excitedly upon seeing Joel standing there. “Daddy!” she exclaims, and Joel leans down to scoop her up in his arms, grinning ear to ear. He gives her a kiss on the cheek once she reaches his level, before addressing her.

“Hey there babygirl! We’re gonna head out a little early today, ‘s that alright?” she nods, and he thanks the teachers before turning around and heading out the door. 

Vivi waves bye to her teachers before continuing. “Why daddy?” 

“Your mama’s not feeling good, so we’re gonna get her home to get some rest, but I need your help. You wanna help me take care of Mommy today?” 

Her little eyes go wide with concern, and her little lip begins to wobble. he softens at how much it looks like yours. “is Mommy okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, she’ll be alright pumpkin,” he says, running his knuckle beneath her little chin to assuage her worry. “We just need to let her get some sleep and try to make her feel better okay? Your baby brother’s busy swimmin’ laps in there making your mama’s tummy hurt,” he smiles. Vivi nods back in understanding.

When they get to the car, Joel opens the back door by Vivi’s car seat and sets her down, ready to buckle her in, but she hops out to reach over and talk to you. Joel looks exasperated at how quick she is when he turns back and finds she isn’t there, making you chuckle. She excitedly greets you, and even feeling like you do, she brings a smile to your face.

“Hey honeybee, how was school today?” you say, giving her cheek a little kiss before Joel grabs her and sits her back in her car seat. She keeps yapping while he buckles her in, shaking his head in amusement. 

“Good mommy!” she says, and starts talking about the fun things she did today, specifically the art she got to make with the little dot paints. She loves those things. Joel grabs your hand again in the driver’s seat while you talk with Vivi, and squeezes before cocking his head to the side, letting you know he’ll keep her occupied in conversation if you wanna lay back against the window again.

______________________________________________________________

When you get home, Joel gets Vivi out of her car seat, and she runs to grab your hand while you walk inside. “Daddy said I could help him take care of you today, mommy,” she says, beaming with pride. Your heart melts at her sincerity and care. 

“That's so sweet baby, thank you so much.” Joel pipes up behind you both, having grabbed your bag and Vivi’s from the truck. 

“That’s right, and I also said your mama needs rest more than anything. So how ‘bout we let her get to bed and you help me get some lunch together, huh?” 

“Okay daddy. Mommy, you need comfy clothes before nap time,” Vivi instructs.

“Okay baby, I'll get changed. You gotta be hungry, so get something to eat with daddy first.” You mouth a “thank you” to Joel as you part from Vivi. He pulls you close and whispers “of course” in your ear before kissing your head again, and shooing you off to the bedroom.

You’re cozy in the bed when Joel comes in with Vivi after she’s eaten, and he can tell she’s flagging. She’ll be out like a light for her own nap in no time. She comes in with a bottle of gatorade in your favorite flavor, and Joel carries a sprite with a bendy straw and a sleeve of plain crackers. He hands you the items before grabbing Vivi and plopping her on the bed next to you, where she cuddles up next to your side, and he climbs in on her other side to hold you.

Joel asks you to try to eat a little bit before you get to sleep, and offers some yogurt or bone broth if you can stomach it. He'll also make peppermint tea “if you think it’ll help.” He's already coaxed two advil and half a bottle of water into you since you got home. You take a couple sips of the sprite and eat a couple crackers but tell him all you want right now is for him to stay there with you both. That’ll do just fine for him.

You and Vivi are both asleep in no time. You lean against Joel as he holds you, and Vivi’s leaned against you in his lap. He plays the tv quietly and dozes off as well. This is how Sarah finds the three of you when she arrives home, dropped off from the carpool after school. 

Joel wakes to find his oldest giggling and taking a picture of the three of you, and rolls his eyes before greeting her, and explains the day’s events while gesturing for her to join the pile. Sarah takes her shoes off and crawls into the middle as well next to Vivi, laying her head in your lap, listening to her little sister’s breathing on her right and her little brother’s movements in your stomach on her left.

You rouse just long enough to look down at Sarah and utter a tired “Hi Sweet Pea, how was your day?” cut in the middle with a yawn as you place a hand in her hair and begin carding your fingers through her soft curls. You’ve dozed back off before she can begin to respond, and she and Joel chuckle at each other and she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep under your drowsy ministrations.

Joel looks down at his family and nearly tears up. Sarah’s breathing evens out soon after, and he reflects on how lucky he is. As he’s about to doze again himself, he suddenly remembers the car still at the school. Eh, it’s Friday anyhow. The car can wait til tomorrow. He sighs in contentment, and joins his three girls napping in the late afternoon sun.

[kikihoneyb]

Ice Packs and Peachy Delights

PAIRING: logan howlett x reader (she/her pronouns are used) SUMMARY: reader just got her wisdom teeth out and isn’t feeling very well, wade and logan are here to help | pure fluff, some tension and some swearing, PG-13 at most. WORD COUNT: 3k

-

The clinic's fluorescent lights flickered as the receptionist handed you a small slip of paper. “You’re all set,” she said, her tone a mix of sympathy and professionalism. You nodded, barely registering her words, and tried to say thank you through the gauze, probably sounding like something else completely but the receptionists understood. The local anesthesia had worn off just enough for you to feel the ache in your jaw, and the pain was starting to get worse by the minute.

Your face was a mix of soreness and the strange feeling of having no back molars. The dentist had handed you a small bag, its contents a bizarre souvenir from the day’s adventure—your wisdom teeth. You clutched the bag tightly, half-dismayed, half-amused at the thought of carrying around bits of yourself like a twisted memento, before carefully placing it into your tote bag.

You stumbled out into the waiting area, where Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, was leaning against the wall, casually flipping through a comic book. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he pushed himself off the wall with a flourish. “Look at you! Alive and… well, mostly intact.”

“I feel like shit,” you muttered, attempting a weak smile. Your face was still numb, but you could definitely feel the throbbing pain settling in. The gauze stuffed in your mouth made you talk with a muffled drawl.

"Well, I can promise you that you don’t look as bad as you feel." Wade tried to cheer you up, but you shot it down with a deadpan reply. "With blood pouring out of my mouth?" You say into the piece of tissue you've taken out of your bag to put over your mouth to at least save the eyes of the passerby, both of you walking towards the parking lot in front of the dentist after picking up the meds that were prescribed.

"Still a friendlier look than when you tried to throw that chair at me two months ago." He points out. "It was a joke, Wade." You reply trying to speak without messing with what feels like a crime scene in your mouth.

He replies in a softer tone, using an uncommon quieter voice he rarely used while sticking the keys into the ignition. "Still, it wasn’t very funny. Vanessa gave me that chair." You felt a pang in your chest, you didn’t mean for the conversation to shift like this, especially since he insisted from the day on that you mentioned that you had to get an appointment to get your wisdom teeth out because the pain and discomfort just kept coming and going to the point where you just did not want to procrastinate anymore, that he was going to pick you up from the dentist.

You replied, a bit more pronounced than you wanted to especially with the two pieces of gauze still sitting in the same spot that you, somehow, forgot in this second "I told you I didn’t knooooow and I already said I was SORRY- OW!" The gums didn’t like that, so you were reminded. You carefully moved your hand to cup your cheek which was slowly but surely becoming more swollen.

"Ok that one's on me," Wade replied, smiling again. "For what it's worth, I forgave you for that long ago, I know you didn't know. And I'll shut up now, for the sake of your squirell-hiding-a-fuck-ton-of-nuts cheeks." You could only throw him a heavy case of side-eye because was he wrong? The reflection of yourself glancing back at you on your phone screen would say no. Your eyes moved from the phone in your hands to a shiny piece of plastic reflecting the sunlight, picking it up from the opened bag sitting on your lap.

As Wade drove, he glanced over at you and noticed the bag you held. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

With a smirk, you lifted it up. “My wisdom teeth.”

Wade’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh, that’s just wrong! You’re bringing home your wisdom like a trophy? How’s that for bragging rights?”

You chuckled, despite the pain. “Yeah, well, I figured I’d keep them as a reminder of how much I’ve endured for the sake of dental hygiene.”

Wade shook his head, laughing. “You’re braver than I am. I’d have left those suckers in the dumpster. I wanted to make a joke about your loss of wisdom but I guess you're still holding onto it after all."

You both shared a laugh, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics as Wade maneuvered through traffic. The absurdity of the situation made the discomfort more bearable, and the humor helped in forgetting, if only momentarily, the throbbing pain in your jaw.

---

By the time you reached your apartment, you were a picture of post-surgical misery: bloodstained gauze, swollen cheeks, and a general air of crankiness.

Wade was rummaging through your cabinets and muttering curses under his breath. “So, what you need is... Well you actually prepped everything here, I see ice packs, painkillers, and baby food- Look at this! We have 'Applesauce,' 'Carrot Puree,' and 'Peachy Delight.' If you have some left by the end of this let me know some of these actually sound kinda good-.” "Fuck…" You sighed when the realization hit.

You forgot the one thing that honestly feels like the most important thing right now with the presence of the blood and saliva mixture in your mouth. "I forgot to buy gauze and the clinic only gave one spare pair. Shiiiit."

You leaned back onto the couch before sitting up straighter again, reminded of what your dentist had said: "Try to sit up the first few hours after the surgery until the bleeding stops." You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

He turned to you “I’ll  make a run to the store then." You grimaced, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

"Please don't." You replied. "You already went all the way to pick me up, I'm not gonna let you go grocery shopping too."

He smirked and said "What are you gonna do? Stop me by challenging me to a chubby cheeks duel?" If only looks could kill, he would've been six feet under.

"Besides I'm not gonna leave you here all alone. You know what would make this whole recovery thing a lot better? Logan. He’s just around the corner. I could get him to swing by and keep you company.”

“No,” you said firmly, your voice muffled by the gauze. “I look like crap. I don’t want him seeing me like this.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You sure? He’s a big softie. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing you like this.”

You shook your head, wincing at the pain. “No way. I’m fine. I don’t need him to—”

“Okay, okay. I hear you,” Wade said, though his grin suggested he wasn’t taking you seriously. He fished out his phone and started typing a message, not giving you a chance to protest further.

"Wade, I swear to god if you-" You speak after him as he closes the cabinets and grabs the car keys that were just recently plopped down onto the counter, making his way to the front door.

"Sorry can’t hear you through all the gauze byeeee." With that he slams the door behind him, leaving you to fume silently. The thought of Logan seeing you in such a state was mortifying. The last thing you wanted was to be seen like this by ANYONE, let alone HIM.

---

A short while later, the doorbell rang, and you shuffled to answer it, barely managing to pull yourself together. Logan stood on the other side, looking both bewildered and amused. “Wade said you needed some help?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over your flushed face and the half-empty bag of ice clutched to your cheek. Thank god the ice chips hack worked, you don’t think you would've opened the door if you still had to bite down on the gauze. Pretending to be dead would've been the better alternative. Maybe.

You tried to muster a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, well... Wade insisted. I didn’t ask for this.”

Logan’s expression softened as he stepped inside, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I see. Well, let’s make sure you’re comfortable, yeah?” You caught him glancing around the room, probably noting the slight disarray as you tried to make yourself comfortable.

As he made his way to the couch, you watched him with a mix of relief and embarrassment. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it.”

 “No trouble at all. Wade can be a bit pushy, but he’s got a good heart.” He replied and sat down on the couch next to you. The minutes ticked by, with Logan asking gentle questions and helping you adjust the ice pack. He didn’t push you to talk much, which you appreciated more than you could say.

In a moment of comfortable silence, Logan notices you shifting the ice pack in your hands. "You alright with that?" he raises his brow.

"Yeah, just a bit cold, hands are a bit frostbitey but it's fine." You reply smiling sheepishly, waving your other hand to help signify that it really is not as bad, because honestly, nothing can feel worse than your bottom jaw right now.

With that, he reaches over the couch, automatically scooting closer to you. "Give me that." He gestures towards the ice pack, making your hands a bit tingly, whether it's the cold, the nerves from the procedure, or him, you couldn't tell anymore.

"No, it's alright really. I'm serious." You reply, only for him to shut your attempt down with a short, stoic, yet sweet: "So am I." You stare into his eyes for a split second too long before you defeatedly hand the ice pack over to him.

Logan had taken to holding the ice pack for you, his touch surprisingly gentle. At first, you’d insisted you could manage it yourself. "I can do it myself, you know." You say, your voice now only a tiny bit above a whisper with how close his face has gotten to yours, his touch truly careful, becoming even softer when he doesn't miss the tiny wince that you tried to suppress when the ice pack met your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body with how close he was to you at this point, contrasting the coldness of the ice.

“I know you can,” he said softly, “but I want you to know that you don’t always have to.”

You really hoped that he didn't see your eyes falling to his lips for a millisecond before you forcefully pulled them back to his eyes, but by the way his gaze softened and one corner of his lips shifted up ever so slightly, you couldn't be so sure anymore.

The comfortable silence settled back in again, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of your ice pack. The shift within the air, while small, was quite hard to ignore, existing like a floating invisible thread drawing you closer and closer. Logan’s presence was soothing. The way he moved, the way he breathed, the way his eyes crinkled with quiet amusement—it all made you feel oddly safe despite the pain you were in.

Just as that thread pulls you two closer than ever before, a pair of red scissors and way too fucking many grocery bags bursts through the door and cuts it straight down the middle. How he managed to unlock the door so quietly, and how the door remained in one piece, still attached to its hinges will forever remain a mystery.

“Guess who’s back with your very important gauze and baby food, and yes, I managed to avoid all the worst of the baby food aisle!”

Wade burst through the door, balancing a collection of grocery bags and a mischievous grin.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, and you couldn’t help but laugh despite the throbbing in your mouth.

Wade set the bags down with a dramatic flourish. “I see Logan has managed to make himself comfortable. Good job, buddy. I knew you’d be the perfect substitute for me.”

Logan rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he held the ice pack in a way like he was offering it to you but also hoping that you'd let him hold it for you a bit longer. “He certainly knows how to make an entrance.”

You take the ice pack from his hand whispering a soft thank you.

Wade’s gaze turned back to you, his grin softening. “So, how’s our patient holding up? I got you a mountain of gauze because you can never have too much gauze. And some top-of-the-line baby food, most of this is for me but that's not the point."

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Thanks, Wade. You really didn't have to.”

He shrugged, winking at you. “Hey, you’re the one who got her wisdom teeth yanked out. It’s practically my duty to be overly dramatic about it…Wait, don't tell me you don't need gauze anymore." He adds as he notices the lack of gauze-ness in your speech.

"I'm afraid so since you chose to take your fucking time," Logan adds as he gets up to put the now almost room-temperature ice pack back in the freezer, switching it with a new one.

You couldn’t help but smile at the friendly banter. “I appreciate it. Both of you.”

Your gaze lingered on his hands which, thank god, he didn't pick up on. Turning to Wade, however, confirmed that your eyes weren't as secretive as you hoped they were, as he wiggled his eyebrows at you before winking, earning a subtle middle finger from you while you pretended to move a strand off from your face.

Logan walks towards the couch and hands you a neatly wrapped icy cool ice pack which you take from his hands, fingertips brushing, but pulling yourself together pretending that that didn't happen because you've let yourself slip one too many times already today. You lean back against the couch and softly put the ice pack back on your cheek, feeling a bit sleepy after the entire ordeal today. Wade turns the TV on to see if anything interesting is on, settling on the armchair next to the couch while Logan takes the gauze out of the bags.

"Do you store these in your bathroom or the kitchen?" He asks looking at you, whose eyes are closed, trying not to think about the pain. Ibuprofen WILL be taken after the next meal you promised yourself.

"Both are fine but you can leave it in the bathroom, on the shelf under the mirror maybe." You reply.

"Yes ma'am," Logan replies causing you to take a subtle but deeper breath. Why was that so attractive, c’mon he's just trying to help you out what is wrong with you, you thought?

You could only say "Thank you." in return, trying to keep your voice as unaffected by whatever that was.

As Logan comes back into the living area he gestures to Wade and says "You bought so much baby food, do you know that?"

"Do you have something that you want to tell us about?" You open your eyes and jokingly raise your brow at him.

"Not in the way that you think, no, but this baby right here-" he holds his stomach. "Loves to explore all types of cuisines and he's been lustin' after 'Peachy Delight' from the second he laid his eyes on her."

"Your stomach has eyes?" You and Logan deadpan at the same time making you look at each other in amusement. You add a quick great minds think alike, narrowing your eyes in a tone of semi-seriousness but also lighthearted comment before tuning back into Wade's culinary rant. That rant then turned into a dinner party of three, taste-testing of the best of the best jars of baby food, according to the now culinary master apparently. Before the conversation moves to the couch and armchair in front of the TV.

A few more hours in, the ibuprofen after dinner has kicked in, and the comfort of the fluffy blanket you have draped over your thighs has returned, no longer being drowned out by the throbbing pain in your jaw, which is subsiding bit by bit. This return to coziness has made your eyelids feel rather heavy, something Logan noticed when he sensed your breathing become more calm and even. Wade was too glued to the TV to notice anything really. Logan’s gaze falls on your slightly flushed face caused by the ice packs that have been held against your face for most parts of the day before his gaze drifts from your cheeks to your lashes.

“You’re starting to fall asleep,” Logan said softly, adjusting the ice pack gently. He has to fight to tear his eyes away and redirect them back to the TV. “We should let you get some rest.”

You blinked sleepily, nodding in agreement. “I think this is the first time it doesn’t feel like I'm being screamed at by my own jaw since this morning.”

Logan offered a reassuring smile, carefully standing up from the couch to not disturb you, and stretched slightly. “If you need anything, just knock on the wall. We’re right next door.”

You managed a small smile, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. “Thanks, Logan. I’ll do that.”

Wade, now standing by the door with a grocery bag of baby food in hand, gave a dramatic sigh. “Alright, alright. I guess we’ll leave you to your rest. But don’t be shy about knocking. Seriously, I’ve got more baby food than any one person should ever need.”

Logan smiles at you while he grabs the doorknob. “Let’s give her some space. You know where we are if anything comes up.”

You watched them with sleepy eyes, feeling a mix of warmth and gratitude. Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, a hint of something unspoken in his eyes.

“Rest well,” he said softly, heading towards the door with Wade in tow.

As the door clicked shut behind them, you settled into the couch, feeling the soothing quiet of the apartment around you. The soft murmurs of their conversation through the thin wall were a comforting reminder of their presence. With a contented sigh, you allowed yourself to slip into sleep.

-

A/N: just got all my wisdom teeth out this morning so this is how i cope with the pain y'all, i also usually don't write stuff so i'm sorry if this was shite oops (edit: there were so many typos and mistakes i missed last night i’m so sorry to everyone who read that version omg)

[exactlymaximumgarden]

not a song fic, but the vibes for this drabble are: > parfum d'étoiles - ichiko aoba > the fear of losing this - florist

thinking about sleepy afternoons with schlatt, where neither of you have the energy to do anything but lay in bed, reveling in each other's presence.

being swamped by the sheets and laying skin to skin with him, him either playing with your hair or humming a soft tune to you. your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat thrumming a steady rhythm against your head. subconsciously trying to sync your own breathing with his.

the sunlight pours through the window, casting a golden glow on your bodies. the sheets are cool, yet the day and schlatt's body against you are so warm. the mere thought of this moment ever ending is torture in itself.

whatever tasks were on today's to-do list are a distant memory now. as schlatt's arms encase around your frame, your knowledge of just how deep your love for your big guy runs is only further solidified.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

✨Staticmoth wedding headcanons✨

Because I have a lot of thoughts but can't come up with the plot to turn it into fic

✨ Vox absolutely loses his shit. You would think that Valentino would be a groomzilla material but oh no no, Val just wants sexy dress and enough coke to last three days of partying. Vox needs everything perfect. He has his grand vision and is ready to tear with bare hands everyone who does not deliver. During the preparation time, he murders as many people as Val usually does. Velvette bails on being the wedding planner after just two weeks because it was seriously straining their friendship. But after a month, she's back in the game. Why? Because Vox strangled three other wedding planners in frustration, and things weren't moving forward, so Val was starting to freak out.

✨ The event is held at the Vees' Tower. I reckon they've got a venue suitable for hosting conferences and porn award shows.

✨ It's a grand event. I'm talking Grand™, like the Kim K and Kanye West of Hell kind of grand. But it's also elite, so the guest list isn't that long, around 200 invited people plus 50 ticketed spots for anyone willing to drop 100k hellish bucks to attend. Everything is dripping with gold and diamonds because "quiet luxury" isn't in the Vees' vocabulary. The whole affair reflects Val's aesthetic more, as it's Vox's love letter to him. Vox already had his wedding, and now it's time to fulfill his husband's dreams. So Val makes about 90% of the decisions without shouldering any real responsibilities. Which is fine by everyone because he's annoying as hell when it comes to picking roses, flamingo feathers, and starters. Nobody wants to put him in high-stress situations. Expect lots of red, pink, and gold, with heavy, decadent fabrics and neon lights; it's like an exclusive brothel meets the Las Vegas strip.

✨ When it comes to flowers, they settled on roses because they're Vox's favorites, which naturally made them Val's favorite too, given the sheer number of bouquets he's received. Vox, being the freak he is, counts every single bouquet he's ever given to Val. So, for their wedding, he ensures there are twice as many roses. Yes, he's a pathological overachiever.

✨ As for attractions, there’s a plethora of erotic dancers in cages and mesmerizing drone light shows. Karaoke, slot machines, live cooking stations, and all the drugs you can imagine. And let's not forget a fountain flowing with tequila. It's a true adult wonderland.

✨ Valentino skips the whole white dress thing and rocks a fierce red latex gown that's very Mugler but with a fetishcore twist. Vox keeps it sleek in a sharp black three-piece suit. His shirt's a bold blue, and his tie matches Val's dress. His shoulder pads are pointy, his waist is slutty, his ass looks divine. Oh yeah, about slutty waist - underneath the shirt he is hiding a leather corset, as a treat for the wedding night.

✨ Also none of them really have friends other than Velvette, just associates so there are no groomsmen/maids.

✨ Since there aren't any traditional churches or government officials in Hell (if there's even a government at all), Velvette takes on the role of officiating the wedding. Vox isn't entirely thrilled with this choice because there's always the risk she might crack a joke or publicly rib him, but hey, there's really no one else who could pull it off. I imagine that a wedding in Hell is also some form of magical contract but more about partnership than ownership. They do not exchange rings but blood sksksk also I don’t think that Vox can really wear rings with his claws? And they couldn't quite agree on a design that satisfied both of them. In the end, Val ends up wearing his illegally imported engagement ring from Earth, featuring four pink diamonds shaped like a moth's wings.

✨ Val's vow is, well, atrocious. It's the kind of thing that would definitely land him in one of those TikTok compilations of terrible grooms ruining their weddings. He mentions cream pieing Vox at least once. Vox at first freaks out but seconds later realizes Wow that's the man I'm marrying. I wouldn't want him any other way On the flip side, Vox's vow is immaculate. Crafted with the assistance of Voxtek's CMO and practiced to perfection, it leaves everyone in awe. He has out-of-body experience playing this role of prince charming.

✨ For their first dance, they opt for a steamy tango. Picture this: swirling red smoke on the floor, making it seem like they're dancing on the sky of the pride ring when the sun is setting down. Little do the guests know, the smoke is laced with drugs, sending most of them on a wild trip. The party quickly goes off the rails, but in the best way possible (according to the Vees’ standards).

✨ The cake is a five-tier monstrosity with five different flavors: tres leches and chocolate-cherry chosen by Val, confetti cake and strawberry cheesecake chosen by Vox and Red Velvet for Velvette because she couldn't shut up about it To top it all off, there's a big chocolate figure of Vox and Valentino dancing. Val is later caught drunk, eating it with his bare hands like the filthy animal he is.

✨ Velvette’s wedding gift is a pair of customized matching guns with small engravings that read "Partners in Crime."

✨ Valentino pulls off a surprise special pole dance performance as a wedding gift for his husband. Let's just say it's scorching hot and leaves at least 50 guests with, uh, visible excitement. Later on, things almost escalate to a full-on table bang, but...

✨ Velvette spends the entire evening reminding them that they can't just vanish to consummate their marriage because this whole party took months of preparations, and they need to be present. After all, people paid good money to be around them. The threat of cock cages hangs over their heads, but they promise to behave. However, Val being the horny beast he is, ends up taking Vox to the bathroom for a quickie anyway. Velvette decides to let it slide this time.

✨ At least 20 casualties mark the night. Vox ends up zapping one of the guests who gets a bit too clingy with Val during the dance. Meanwhile, Val gets into a brawl and, well, let's just say it doesn't end well for the other guy. Surprisingly, everyone seems to be having a great time, but hey, these are the Vees' colleagues we're talking about—they thrive on violence and sex.

✨ Yeah, there's no shortage of sex at this party. With a guest list mainly consisting of businesspeople, adult performers, and mobsters, tensions escalate rapidly. By around 3 A.M., half of the party is busy getting down and dirty in every corner imaginable.

✨ When Vox reaches the perfect level of drunkenness, he seizes control of the DJ station. Surprisingly, he's a natural, dropping beats like a pro and having an absolute blast. Val, meanwhile, goes absolutely wild watching him, thrilled to see Vox letting loose and embracing his creative side.

✨ Derek, Vox's assistant, is the odd one out, the only low-status person to snag an invite because Vox felt kinda generous. But truth be told, Derek hates the idea and wasn't keen on attending. However, when Melissa caught wind of his invitation, she practically dragged him there to be his plus one, desperate to get closer to Velvette. Derek's terrified of most of the guests, but Melissa's over the moon. She later fucks him as a reward for being a very brave boy. Angel is not invited because he would ruin mood of both grooms.

✨ Valentino had prepared the filthiest, kinkiest, most elaborate wedding night, but it doesn't go as planned. Surprisingly, things turn out very vanilla for their standards, with a lot of missionary, eye contact, and hand-holding. After 16 hours of non-stop action, they're both too exhausted to even think about getting creative.

Thank you @purrpleowl @watcherofeternalflame @canadianlucifer @aroromantic @malu897 @staticmothed @chaggieslovechild @gumm1defloor @mayflowersfly for your thoughts!

[citrusx0xo]

I've been reading too much dirty shit and now all I crave is affection bear with me guys Not proofread!!

Ever so itty bitty trigger warning, angsty poetic fluff

To be loved by Suguru was to be loved by an artist. Loved so gently, like a sculptor etching his final details into your supple skin. Or like a glassmaker, soothing his hands over your body so softly it was like he thought you'd shatter at any moment.

To love Suguru was to be dragged through a twisted, gorgeous display of torture. You could feel each word drag along your esophagus with another jagged claw because no word seemed worthy for him, no word could convey any amount of pure devotion you could feel.

When he'd dip his head into the crook of your neck, hiding himself from anything that wasn't his lover, you swear you could feel yourself chip away. Every time his hands caressed your stomach in a hug, his chest slotting against your back like he was made solely for loving you. Your chest would cave in, crumbling into itself as you felt him hold you so tenderly. Suguru was a calm pond amidst your clashing waves, his oh-so-soft breath fanning along your rotting skin.

"You're trembling."

"I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?" a voice you've grown to be infatuated with mumbled into your bare shoulder.

Suguru had you in his arms, shifting his head slightly as his lips rested against your collarbone. You had one arm being used as his pillow, hand carding through his inky hair as you pressed your lips against his temple absentmindedly. You'd both found the best way to waste away the day being in bed, only wearing your matching pairs of boxers that you'd picked out together on impulse. The only light you had, was the light that managed to creep past the thick clouds that spilled rain droplets towards your window.

"I'm not sure." It was the truth, the only answer you could give. After a few silent moments of digging into your fuzzy mind, you found no reason to feel the way you did. Having Suguru's body entangled with yours so naturally, it had mellowed everything you felt. Lines of thought quickly dissipated in your mind, only able to bask in the glow of whatever this foreign feeling was. "Maybe you're not scared then."

"If not, then what?"

You peered at the ashtray that sat at your windowsill, a half-melted candle keeping it in place. You and Suguru had grown together, lived together. You knew each other, and it was no secret that your connection was the closest you'd both ever get to comfort, the closest you'd ever be to health.

"Maybe, we're just in love."

And there it was again, that sweet agony you craved, only ever able to be fulfilled by him. Like he was covering you in a silk blanket lined with poison, his adoring kisses slitting your skin.

"I like that answer..."

if you read this far im gonna give you a big fat kiss

Sorry, purely self-indulgent lol. Just wanted to write some fluff but angst is my spirit animal, disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed type shit yk

Look after yourselves!!! Drink water!! Eat food!!

[daz-zey]

Too Much

"I'm not letting you go, damn it! I lost you once... I am not going to lose you again," you huffed and gritted out. Fists clenched on your sides. "I refuse!" You yelled, tears prickling in your eyes.

Gi-hun's expression softens at your outburst. It was one of the rare times you ever got angry or talk to him that way for that matter. You were always patient. Only with him of course. The rest of the world, well, could fuck off.

Gi-hun understood your reluctance to his plan but it's a decision he made out of some responsibility and grief. He wouldn’t be who he was without you, how he kept hanging on because of your will to stay. He is forever grateful for you and would do whatever you wanted. Except for this one thing. The one thing that altered his mind, life and reality.

He grabs your biceps and pulls you closer. He leans to kiss your forehead, attempting to calm you down. He sighed heavily, the weight on his shoulders continues to weigh him down. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, yeobo,” he says, his hands moves to cup your face. His thumbs caressing your skin. “I have to do this. I have to go. They won’t stop, they won’t because they don’t care. But I do. I care too much. So please… you need to let me go.” He couldn’t help but beg, beg for you to understand. "I promise to come back. I'll come back to you. Just wait for me okay?" He says with a meek smile. "Then we'll continue what we have going."

You wanted to believe him like you always do but somehow this was different. You might not see him again. Hope doesn’t belong in the games, it doesn’t exist. So him going back while you stay in the shabby pink motel… you wouldn’t even know if he made it out alive because you don’t know where the island is. Not even Jun-ho can find it. "Don't say that, Gi-hun. Don't make promises you can't keep," you murmured. You know in your heart that you're right about all of this and you don't have anymore tears left to cry. “Even if-… Even when you come back, how can you still live with what you know? With what you’ve relived again? Huh? You’re only burying yourself deeper into that void, Gi-hun!” You were shaking now, you pushed Gi-hun away. “I can stay with you, be in this relationship, love you but this… this is the last straw, Gi-hun… I’m not sure I’ll still be here when you come back,” you say, your voice hoarse and strained from trying not to break down in front of him. “So if you want to go… then go. Leave. I’m sick of seeing you broken,” you finished, a tear running down your cheek.

Gi-hun stood there stunned. He didn’t think you would end it, here and now. It was abrupt. Lightning flashes in the night sky, thunder booming and rain pours down on both of you. Gi-hun didn’t care because he stared at you, seeing the look in your eyes and face. Flashbacks during the time he came back from the first games two years ago. Rain. Blood. Pain. He reached out to you but you were out of reach. You were gone, your back was facing him. You were walking away from him. Leaving a piece that you had of him with him.

In the end, you let him go. In the end, you left him as he left you. In the end, love wasn’t enough. In the end, the both of you were alone.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Stargazing

I need you all to know that this is self-indulgent, absolute mindless fluff.

Tags: Fluff

The night air was cool and a slight breeze rustled the leaves as you made your way the clearing Ford had told you about. Apparently, he had discovered it during one of his many explorations. He claimed it had the best view of the stars. You had off-handedly mentioned how much you loved stargazing and astrology, so, when he invited you to join him that night, you had hesitated. You hesitated because, every time he was near you, your heart seemed to race and your mind would go blank. You were usually a stuttering mess around him, unable to form a coherent sentence. You were afraid he would think you were an idiot, but you agreed because, deep down, you couldn’t resist spending time with him even if that meant your heart would never stop fluttering in your chest.

You found him exactly where he had said he’d be, lying on a blanket with an old telescope propped up on a tripod next to him. His gray hair gleamed in the moonlight. His glasses were perched on his nose as he stared into the heavens. The sight made you smile. He looked so relaxed, so happy to be there. Despite the hoard of butterflies in your stomach, you were happy to be there too.

“You made it!” Ford beamed, sitting up and giving you a warm smile. He pointed toward the sky with excitement, “I found a cluster that is absolutely fascinating! You have to see it.”

Cautiously, you moved toward him. He stood, propping the telescope and angled it toward the right spot. Wordlessly, you peered through it. Ford’s hand brushed against yours as he attempted to focus the lenses, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You glanced nervously up at him, a shy smile.

When you returned you attention back to the cluster of stars he had found, you couldn;t ignore the thoughts raging through your mind. You were so excited to be there with him. You’d had feelings for him for a while, always too nervous to act on them. He seemed so engrossed in nhis work, so intelligent, and so kind. You admired those things about him, but you thought, you knew, he wouldn’t feel the same. What would a wonderful genius like him want with you, someone who worked at his brother’s tourist trap, too interested in the stars to come down to earth. Your feelings for him were childish. You knew that, but you couldn’t push them down.

“Do you ever wonder if there’s something greater out there?” His words had startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts and away from the amazing sight he had seemingly found just for you. You pulled yourself from the telescope to look at him. 

You urged him to continue with a raise of your eyebrow, “You know there is. You spent years in other dimensions. Surely you saw something greater than all of this.”

“Something beautiful,” he clarified with a nervous grin. He shook his head as if realizing he had lost his train of thought. He tried to find it again, “Don’t get me wrong, [Y/N]. I think there’s a great beauty right here, in this dimension, in our universe as well.” A soft ‘ah’ left him as he repositioned the telescope, “Take a look at this one: Andromeda. This one is my favorite.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered as if it weren’t your favorite too.

Ford glanced at you when you straightened up. For the first time, when you made his gaze, you saw something flicker in his eyes, something deeper than you had seen before. His eyes found yours and, for a moment, the universe seemed to pause around you.

“You know, I;ve spent a lifetime staring up at the stars in this galaxy and countless others,” his voice was quiet, barely audible as he returned his attention to the sky, “but i think I’ve been overlooking something, something right in front of me.”

You tried to find what he was looking at, what beautiful thing he had suddenly discovered while standing right next to you. When his hand took a hold of yours, your breath caught in your throat. His fingers laced with yours. The simple touch felt so full, an extra finger squeezing your hand tightly. The warmth of his touch sent a surge of emotion, of love, through you and you knew he felt it too.

“Ford, I-” you started, trying to get out what you were feeling, but he held up his free hand to interrupt you.

His voice wavered as he spoke, “I care about you more than I've let myself admit.” 

You turned your head to look at him, but he wouldn’t look at you,  but his thumb stroked over your knuckles as if he were holding onto the moment. It was as if he was afraid for you to continue, fearing the moment would slip away.

“I care about you too,” you whispered, “more than I can explain.”

For a long moment, you both stood there in silence, the stars twinkling overhead like they were witnessing something extraordinary. Slowly, Ford leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, tender kiss. It was soft at first, but it deepened as if he, too, had been waiting for this moment, unsure yet hopeful.

When you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead against his, breathing in the stillness of the night. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t the stars that held your attention, it was him. Stanford Pines, the man who had shown you that sometimes, the greatest discoveries weren’t out in the universe, but right here in each other.

[httpiastri]

missing ur fics... what are the chances of a paul's new year fic w popstar reader? 😭🙏

aaaaa so sorry for not writing a lot recently :( ive just had zero inspiration and major writers block..... but at least i could squeeze out some lame headcanons on this topic?? sorry again 😭

– paul is so giddy for this new year's... because sure he's had a few girlfriends here and there before but he never actually got to properly spend nye with one

– until this year!

– he was so excited when he heard that she was free from work on new year's and even more excited when she agreed to come to estonia to celebrate it with him

– he had the whole day planned out; brunch at some cute place in town, dinner with his friends in the evening, and then taking her alone to a specific place he picked out to see the fireworks

– it's a bit out of town, somewhere the city lights wouldn't bother them as much and they could be higher up to see it all clearly, and since it's kinda remote there wouldn't be anyone around! just the two of them alone

– paul would be very touchy this day? to kinda remind himself that this is indeed happening, he is spending new years with his beautiful girlfriend and everything is perfect and he just wants to make sure she's there all the time (even if she's like sitting in his car or next to him in a restaurant lol)

– when they were standing there, arms around each other and looking up at the sky, waiting for the fireworks... i feel like paul wouldn't just be all quiet and wait for the midnight kiss and then go home? he had this feeling that he needed to do something more... so he started talking and expressing his feelings

– cue a whole ass speech from him about how much she means to him and how happy he is to have her in his life... how glad he is that they got together in 2024 and how much better his life is and how excited he is to go into 2025 with her!! and your girl is just standing there in shock like? where did this come from?? with tears beginning to form in her eyes

– and then the fireworks go off in the background signaling that it's midnight and so his hands on her hips pull her in, her arms drape over his shoulders, and their lips meet in a kiss to ensure a 2025 filled with only love <3

– (i also feel like she definitely set up her camera somewhere near the car without paul noticing? to get a video of the two of them with the fireworks in the background... and the outcome was perfect, with them just being silhouettes against the night sky so it's really hard to tell who they are; so perfect that she couldn't help but post a snippet or screenshot to her instagram story and properly launch their relationship for the first time ever even though you couldn't see their faces. and paul would see it when scrolling through his instagram later the same night, but he's very tired and maybe a bit tipsy so he doesn't realize that she is the one who posted it? so he goes "were there paparazzi there?!" 😭 and when he realizes that she hard launched their relationship in front of all of his followers, he gets so soft and so fuzzy and just so so in love)

[cute-sucker]

sweet endearments

[27.3.2024]

note: this is where i got inspo from for the nicknames xxx summary: sily!pogue!reader meets rafe's parents, but not without some shenanigans. warning: this is so goofy oml (but so long omg, and i'm 99.9% sure it sucks but whatever) words; 1,900

"baby, why are you taking so long?" rafe whined from downstairs. you peeked from your stairs seeing your tough boyfriend pouting. you bit your lip from laughing, and then quickly refrained from making fun of him.

lately, he'd gotten more clingy, but you liked it. you would never tell him, but you liked it when he rested his head on your stomach and innocently told you he wanted to hear your heartbeat. you liked that he held your hand in public, your pinkies locked.

but most of all you liked the secret smiles that he gave you. his eyes would shine, and you swore he had dimples when he smiled at you.

he was a heartache to look at.

but you liked his endearments the most.

how he would call you 'cupcake', sometimes 'sweets', and the other times 'baby.' at the beginning of your relationship you had been so confused about who he was talking to, but now you had grown accustomed to the different endearments he had given you. you had gotten so used to the nicknames when he said your name, you were surprised.

"hey! you comin'?" he yelled, as he looked at his watch before tucking his wallet into the pocket in his pants. finally perfecting your red lipstick, you skipped down. you were meeting his parents today, a day that you were extremely nervous about.

rafe looked up from his phone, eyes full of warmth and a teasing smile on his face before he reached for you.

you twirled away from him, a smile on your face before you gave him a spin, and then blew a kiss in his direction.

"do you like it?" you asked him, your voice loud and bubbly. he smirked, and then reached for your face before you could run away from his reach.

"i love it,"

you laughed at the proclamation, and he seemed to soften at your expression, but you watched him fiddle with his golden rings nervously.

this was as new for him as it was for you. you were the last pogue that would be seen around rafe cameron. you were the jokester, the one that skipped school 'cause it was too boring, and sold your short stories in your free time.

you were usually so unserious half of the time he was frowning and the other time he was laughing at the next thing you had said. when he had asked you to meet his parents, you had snorted with laughter before he told you he was serious.

after that you were scared. you didn't know that what you had with rafe was that serious. you had been joking around half the time, and yet now...now what you felt for him was not a joke. you had talked to your girlfriends for assurance and they had told you to pull a small prank on him. that it would lighten the mood. so that's what you were going to do.

"babe?"

he hummed in response. his hand rested on your thigh in true rafe fashion, and you found yourself laughing in a true passenger princess manner. finally, he rolled his eyes, though his expression was tinged with suspicion. obviously, he knew you wouldn't be so well-behaved for so long.

you loved how well he knew you.

"what is it?"

"i was thinking, as one does-"

and you were cut off by his groan, as he pulled the car car muttering something incoherent . his eyes looked at you tired and then raised an eyebrow when the car had finally parked.

"what is it now?"

you giggled, and then bit your lip, "y'know how much i love your endearments right?," you rambled quickly trying to keep a serious face, "-but you know how unoriginal they are right... and like i was thinking of you calling me 'big dwag,' from now on,"

"what the hell do you mean by 'big dwag?'" rafe cut you off, his jaw clenched, his voice so gruff that you wanted to burst into laughing. he looked so shocked, and confused at the same time that you were glad he had stopped the car to talk to you.

"okay, okay! so like when you introduce me to your parents... i want you to call me 'big dwag," instead of your girlfriend."

"oh my god- you're so fucking weird."

"listen bro-"

"did you just call me bro? it's the ultimate betrayal. my heart can't take this sweets."

you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. rafe did the same, his eyebrows scrunched, and then tilted his head, as he pinched the pinched the bridge of his nose.

"sweets. i really love you, but i really don't want to call you that," he said slowly, compassionately as if he trying to get you to understand. you pouted, as he frowned at you.

"no, i get it you won't call me big dwag. it means a lot to me you know?"

"i can't deal with this," and he puts his head in his hands, while leaning back in his seat sounding absolutely exasperated "i'm not taking you to meet my dad and introduce you as big dwag. i can't do that."

"it's two words."

"i thought you loved my endearments," he said frowning at you.

now you felt bad, as he looked at you. you groaned and then gave him your best puppy eyes.

"please?"

finally, he let out a gruff sigh. "okay. okay, from now on i will be calling you big dwag."

"really? i love you so much!"

"if my dad ask me to break up with you, it will be this obscene nickname's fault."

then he gave you a final glare and started the car. you hummed happily to all of your favorite songs trying not to notice the way he wasn't trying to smile at your expression. he was so in love with you.

then you leaned back satisfied. obviously, he wasn't going to use the nickname, he was just playing with you. that was until the both of you made it to his house. it was beautiful and gigantic, and at other times you would have paid more attention to it as a whole until you saw the smirk on rafe's face.

"c'mon let's go."

♡

all of you ate comfortably on the porch of the cameron's house. all night you had sat well-behaved, laughing at ward's jokes and asking if you could help rose. the whole time rafe hid his laughter by coughing. wheezie had loved you so much that she had told rafe that you were her favourite girlfriend by far.

"you are a wonderful girl," rose murmured to you after the dinner finished and as you helped her fix the plates. "but i wonder if you could do better."

"warning her off already? man, you really can't let me have anything good, can you? " rafe muttered, his voice full of scorn as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. his eyes were full of possesiveness, his body language showed he was ready to start a fight.

you rested your palm on his chest, as if to calm him. but he ignored your soft touch and instead stared rose down. you could see some unease in rose's eyes as she opened her mouth again before closing it, as if she decided that it wasn't worth it. then she muttered something about helping wheezie leaving the two of you together.

it was clear that rafe didn't like her. you had already felt rafe hovering over you like a hawk, anxiously, and attentively, almost as if you were going to flee at a single warning. he had to remember many people had warned you about him.

"rafe?"

you looked up at him, worried what you would find in his eyes. "are you okay?"

rafe shook his head, and then gently nudged you to the pool. "i'm alright. just let me fix something up. i'll be back."

you nodded uncertain, anxious thoughts floating in your head. he didn't trust you. he didn't trust you.

finally, you found yourself resting near the pool, your feet dipped inside.

"how's my big dwag?"

you turned around a hand on your forehead as you squinted to see rafe smiling down. he looked calmer now, almost as if that minute alone had done him well. his well-fitted shirt made you want to kiss him, but the hurt feelings still left a stinging sense on your heart. the sun shone so bright you could barely see a single thing. but this time instead of saying something funny, you found yourself feeling stupidly insecure your knees tucked against your chest.

"i'm okay."

rafe frowned at your expression before he sat down next to you.

"my girl can't be feelin' sad. not with me around."

you squirmed as he reached for you with his strong arms but his gentle touch and peppered kisses all over your face, and protested that he was ruining your dress. finally, when you looked into his eyes and you let out a loud laugh.

it was settled.

today wasn't the day to open old wounds.

"you're stupid, rafe cameron."

instead of making fun of you, he wrapped his hands around your waist, and you found yourself smiling as he kissed you. he was so soft, so attentive, and you practically melted in his warm hands. when you pulled away, you had forgotten the stupid feelings that you were overwhelmed with. when you pulled away you wanted to rest your head on rafe's shoulder, but he had other plans. rafe had gotten up and said he had yelled something at ward.

"dad!"

ward looked away looking shocked, and then furrowed his expression, holding the barbecue skewer awkwardly in his hands.

"dad, did you know that this girl here is my big-" he mocked, jerking a hand to your direction before you squealed, and covered his mouth with your hands.

"shut up, shut up!"

you giggled, and then ran away from him, as he followed you a grin on his face.

he was used to your stupid threats, and finally, when you stopped and looked back at rafe, he gave you a silly proud smile. you swatted him away when he tried to hug you, but before you knew it he had gathered you in his arms and jumped into the pool with you tightly squeezed against his chest.

when you finally submerged, sputtering while you glared at rafe. "don't ever call me that again, you jerk!"

he was soaked with water, a stupid smile on his face before he hummed and pulled you into his arms. you didn't resist and only splashed him with water. his face turned into a scowl before he pinched your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"you're lucky i'm crazy about you dumbass."

[aaaamsy]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

Xiao knows he doesn't deserve you.

You've told him before how much you dislike the way he thinks these things; his hands stain all that it touches, not a single life left unscarred by the presence of the vigilant Yaksha. Even straying near the adeptus could leave a mortal kneeling, and not from worship. His hands hurt, covered in blood from both guilty and innocent. He uses them to claw, grip his spear tight in the midst of battle, to reach and grab all he needs to destroy. Xiao does not know how to do much more, how to use them in such a gentle manner the way you do for him. The flowers by his bed tended to with such careful touches in fear he'll ruin the few gifts he's ever received. The nervous way he holds your hand in case you'll notice how desperate he is to keep you, to have you love him. A man like him has no right to have such a bright star stand next to him as if they were the same, as if one doesn't exude destruction and the other represents all that is good in life.

Every touch, all the miscellaneous trinkets, every time you call his name, oh how he savours it all. He kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever have the honour, grip tight and careful, feelings flowing over where his words could never replicate. There was never a world where he ever thought he'd ever have the privilege to love, to be loved, and to have that special person be you, after everything.

The remnants of battle still linger on him and everything he does, there is not a moment of rest when all he knows is to fight, war does not bode well on one's mental state. Yet the Yaksha is one made to hurt, to kill and erase, to cleanse and protect. With nothing but the threat of tomorrow, his days are spent wide awake. His mind is loud, the voices that stain him remind him so at every moment, they never really go away, it's almost like he never left that place. You take his hardened soul and put it to rest, he never knows how you do it but he's always too weak to resist, as if he'd ever pull away from you. A quiet respite in the arms of war, a soft smile when the world bleeds too much, someone to keep him company when all have left.

But that's all he is, a man sent to hurt, he's never known to be anything else.

Yet, soft, untainted hands roam all over the face of a murderer like you were the lucky one, as if the thoughts that have plagued his head for millennia are simply wrong. That everything he was, that he is, is in fact, good enough for this. That he is good enough for you.

It's a silly thought. He isn't one to doubt your word; he would slaughter all the Gods in the sky and below if you'd say the word. But this, how you say such fickle sentiments of his true worth when he knows better. It might be the only thing he'll never believe you for.

In the darkest pits of the moon he wonders when you will be punished as well for staying with someone like him, your deeds will come back to haunt you, you will not stay. It's not something he's ready to face, the thought of the night sky without you by his side. He's grown much too attached, it scares him. Soon enough you will realize the weight of his sins, how his hands represent the lives he's cut short, the pain you will face because of him. And you will leave, you have to. He's thought much about it, in the life of an immortal like him, things like this will become a mere memory soon enough. He won't blame you once you find your answer, if one day you chose to turn your back on the man you swore to stay with he will merely nod, watching as you find a better life for yourself, a better partner who will surely give you more than he ever could. Still, the thought brings the stinging ache to his heart, every time his mind wanders to the point, the uncomfortable notion of wanting to keep you holds him.

Xiao is not a good man. Not in general and definitely not for you. He's cold, indifferent, he hurts. He hurts you more times than he might be aware of it; every time you flinch, all the times you've backed away, the days where you leave and don't come back. He wonders what you see in him, how you've managed to endure this long with him by your side, surely it must be tiring.

But he's selfish, with you at least. He wants to keep you for as long as you allow him, to hold you in the sea of violence for as much as he wants. You bring him light, and like a moth, he would gladly be burned alive if it meant you would shine for him for just a little longer.

You told him once that you loved him, it made his heart stutter like he believed it, like he deserved it. He doesn't doubt your affection, he shelters it, hides it away for only him to find. But it's so difficult to believe, to believe that after years of suffering that this would be one time where he was given his hope, that this would not end up like all the other blessings of his past. His freedom payed with the price of thousands of lives, his friends taken by the Gods they were sworn to keep, and you, Xiao would die if anything were to happen.

No act of kindness nor passage of time will soften him enough to be able to hold you in the way you deserve, yet despite his aloofness, despite his sharp words, you're still here.

During the nights where the stars dim and the voices dig a little deeper, it's you by his side that makes the hurt a little more tolerable. You don't posses any otherworldly power, you don't cure his head from the world he's constantly stuck in, and you don't offer him anything more than your company. But he'd go through a thousand wars if it meant getting to come home to you for one more day, he'd pray to every God in this world dead or alive to keep you by his side, he'd endure all the anguish of the damned if it meant you'll still love him at the end of the day.

Xiao is not a good man, his hands are stained and rough, his heart yearns selfishly for something he can't keep, he's rude and uncaring. Yet for once in his doomed life he wishes to believe. You tell him you love him, and he wants so badly to believe you.

Xiao wants to deserve loving you.

[strawberriipi]

Kuroo Tetsuro being the type of guy who loves and appreciates all of his loved ones (especially you hehe) who try their hardest in all they do.

Kuroo Tetsuro who if you got a 60 on a test you studied really hard for would still be so fuckin proud of you bc he knew you did your best and that's honestly amazing

Kuroo Tetsuro who would be more than happy to help you study and learn all the ways he can best help you succeed (yk he in that college prep class for a reason, we love a nerd♥︎)

Kuroo Tetsuro who would encourage you to no end even when you feel like you can't take another trig question but would totally stop the studying in its tracks if you tell him "Tetsu, my brain cannot take anymore- I'm so tired" (it's nappy time, snacky time, huggy time or wtv time you want afterwards 🫶)

Kuroo Tetsuro who's probably like the smartest person you know, academically and otherwise, and knows that even if you may not be good in school, you're still so smart in other areas of life. He knows school isn't for everyone. (i.e Kenma bc Kenma is so intelligent with video games, strategies and tactics but sucks at history and science. Bokuto bc he gets 40s-70s in most of his classes but kicks ass whenever he comforts and motivates someone. Bokuto has such emotional intelligence for others except for himself <3)

Kuroo Tetsuro who whenever you tell him you feel stupid for not knowing/understanding something, he tells you, "Everyone I hold close to me are smart. Intelligence is something that's so hot so there's no way you're 'stupid' bc you're like, the hottest person ever."

Kuroo Tetsuro who if you still look at him after he says that like bro Im being serious rn will smile softly, hold your hand tight and gaze into your eyes softly and say, "What I mean is, you're not stupid. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses and basing your intelligence on academics isn't everything. You're worth more than some number on a paper."

Kuroo Tetsuro who doesn't care how "smart" or "dumb" you are in school bc he knows that everyone has their own intelligence and ofc he'd only date/befriend someone who's smart 💅✨

[asrichin]

you wonder,

why he even stayed, why he tried to sort this relationship out. When it's clearly falling apart, and he's walking on eggshells.

Despite that, he still tells you “we can make this work,” as if you're both working on a puzzle that were about to finished. Yet, you doubt that it will, because you will pull it in the end— letting it fall and ruined.

because that's how it should've been.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

It was nice. Really, it was. With Giyuu’s face only inches away, looking absolutely delighted. But, fuck, was this colder than Sanemi had anticipated. Why was ice cream so cold?? It was making his head feel like it was on the Titanic, aching as the milkshake’s hellish cold spread to his brain. Shit, and it tasted fine, but his head was screaming at him and he didn’t want to ruin Giyuu’s mood—god, he looked so happy, sipping like an ecstatic child from the other straw. Sanemi, on the other hand. His hand was closed in a tight fist, fingernails digging into his palm as he tried to pretend he was enjoying this fully. It would be so rude to suddenly rip away from the drink, clutching his head as if he was having some mental breakdown. But, FUCK, did it HURT.

[mydearestdrabbles]

bring your stuffies and your smiles to work

a cglre story | bsd | cg + reader | doppo kunikida | pet names | co-working

doppo kunikida may be known as an idealist, short-tempered, by-the-book kind of guy but to you,, to you he was doppo, he was papa, he was home.

on this particularly grey yokohama weekday you found yourself in a place too big in a mindset far too small… so as you clung to every last ounce of your big headspace you navigated yourself straight towards the agency building.

the door opened louder then you’d liked and you’d managed to depart with your big headspace as soon as you saw him your partner,, your caregiver as he looked away from his work and towards the door.

it took everything in you not to run towards his desk, but that didn’t stop you from keeping up with a little skip- finally arriving at his desk you couldn’t help but fidget, almost forgetting to flash the signal you’d both agreed upon to signify you’d regressed.

kunikida’s gaze softened as he saw you, paying close a mind to your hands waiting patiently for the signal- upon its display he made eye contact with you saying

“hi my sweet thing, i’m so happy to see you!” he said softly using one of your pet names he knew would help you slip. “can you tell papa what brings you here angel?”

you shook your head, face getting hot and tears threatening to trickle within the second- but before they could doppo was scribbling something in his notebook and showing it to you.

it was a pacifier, the same ruby red as his ribbon.

graciously you accepted it, the comfort of the object subsiding the overwhelm that had come from his question.

doppo glanced between you and his desk when he proposed another question, this time even softer and gentle than the last.

“did you bring any of your little things with you love?” he asked as he began opening one of the drawers in his desk.

you shook your head, when you’d left for the agency it was too much to grab anything more then your headphones and stuffie, you showed him the items that had been tucked beneath your arm as his desk drawer revealed that would be more than enough.

a series of small fidgets, art supplies, picture and coloring books were all neatly organized with handwritten labels relating to their purpose or the people in the agency whom certain items belonged.

doppo gestured toward the drawer saying patiently “why don’t you pick out a thing or two to keep you busy while papa finishes up his paperwork,, does that sound alright love?”

you nod, though it’s not his undivided attention you’ll still be in his company, and it’s hard to resist a good coloring session.

doppo smiles as you walk to the other side of his desk and take a seat, carefully laying out the various items you’ll be using for todays masterpiece as your caregiver returns to work.

time passes quickly with periodic check-ins and doppo’s occasional “you’re doing such a good job little one!” and “i’m so proud of you angel” easing you through headspace.

before you know it doppo has shut his computer and is stretching his hand towards you. the sun making the agency floor almost glow- the two of you are the only ones still working.

“thank you love for waiting for me” he began “i know it took a while and you were so well behaved for me… shall we go home little one? i think there are some warm blankets waiting for us.”

and with that, you took his hand and began for the exit smiling behind the pacifier he’d gifted you- today was a good day.