#girl i just

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tender Cuts

Gwayne comes home battered and beaten, and so you kiss his busted lip and tend to his wounds.

Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, mentions of injury/blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, softhours, typos, etc.

A/N: i cant help myself. the unholy unspeakable things i want to do to this man... and yet here i am offering you some fluff

Tagging: @lancedoncrimsonwings

Gwayne watches the way I undo his armor. He sighs and straightens from his chair, turning to the vanity mirror, "I am uninjured."

"And so you say, yet on your lips therein lies the lie you offer, husband," I retort as I finally remove the final piece of steel upon his form.

I bend over as he sighs once more. His tired eyes remain on my face as I unbutton his top. He places his hands on his thighs as he spreads them, "I am not gravely injured."

I forfeit a response and continue to touch him with care, as not to accidentally cause his unexposed injuries any more irritation. By the time I have his top unbottoned, Gwyane removes it along with his undershirt before I can do so. He stands and takes my hands. His eyes are more awake now as he places my palms on his bare chest, "inspect me yourself if you distrust me so."

His tone pinches my heart. "It's not that I distrust you, love," I rub his shoulders, "it's just that you've grown numb to your pain, and I do not wish any ailment to sneak up on you."

Gwayne's eyes slowly shut as I rub his arms then caress the sides of his firm belly. "So?" he grumbles, "shall I rid myself of my pants?"

My expression perks, "you might as well."

He opens his eyes and furrows his brows.

"I will bathe you myself."

Gwayne does not protest, save perhaps for a few more sighs as he rids himself of his last articles of clothing and steps into the preprepared tub. I waste no time and drag a stool to the side, eager to get him clean. He melts into my touch as I scrub his skin.

I splash his arm a few times before moving onto his chest. The room is silent, apart for the sound of sloshing water. Gwayne's head feels heavy, I can tell. I rub his shoulders to encourage him to relax.

"You don't have to mother me, you know."

I tilt my head as I find one of the freckles on his sternum, "I am a mother. You should know, you were there when it happened."

"You mothered my children, not I." He rests his arms on the sides of the tub.

I lift my gaze. His eyes look heavy.

For a moment, my husband is not he, but a child abandoned. I look upon his tired face and recall the soft confessions he'd whispered as I laid in his arms, confessions of his loneliness, his longing. He recounted all the memories of his mother that remained with him. He vented out his hurt over his father who he grew without.

I knit my brows and put down the sponge in my hand, "do you not want my touch?"

He drops his head then grabs my wrist, "I do not want you to worry." Gwayne pushes closer to me. The water around him splashes. He leans on the rim by my side and kisses my pulse. He repeats softer, "I do not want you to worry."

I press my lips into a line and brush his hair back with my free hand, "oh, my love," I sigh, "unfortunately, I worry regardless."

He rests his head upon my hand when I caress his cheek. I comb my fingers through his hair as much as it will allow me in its matted state. He closes his eyes. I trace the shape of his nose with my palm.

Gwayne has never said it out loud, but I know that sometimes he feels undeserving of the attention I so freely shower him in. The wounds of his younger self that never quite healed make the affections he's so craved quite hard to take in.

"My sweet boy," I whisper, gently rubbing his lips, "let me do this for you."

His blue eyes slowly open. They are shrouded with red exhaustion. He finally relents, eyes closing again as he leans back and offers himself completely to me.

I decide to wash his hair for a change, and as I do so, I sing a folk song from the Reach. He rests his head on the tub, sinking slightly into the water as he allows himself to relax.

I only stop singing when he mutters something unintelligible. I lean towards him, "what was that, my love?"

His lips barely move, "thank you."

A soft smile finds me.

"I love you."

I immediately press my lips into his. I make sure to do so delicately, so not to disturb him or the cut on his lower lip. I look at his face for a few moments before pulling back, "I love you too."

I continue singing from where I left off.

[gemstarstarlight]

I have been restraining myself for a few days now but I cannot contain it I do NOT like my friend’s boyfriend he does NOT DESERVE HER and she is WAY TOO AWESOME to date a guy like him.

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[12neonlit-stage]

you're allowed to discuss and work together, reblog for a higher sample size or something

You have 1 week, good luck!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

girl why the hell WEREN'T you at the devil's sacrament 👀 that's three sacraments in a row you've missed 👀 👀 👀

[a-drama-addict]

not caring too much about a fandom’s favourite guy is the worst. you’ll think “oh i’ll look into the tag see if anything new and cool’s there” and it’s just that fucking guy again

[churroach]

Full of Desires

[yourfavecharacterisqueer]

hypothetical scenario for you all: the real king arthur returns. you meet him and you welcome him into your home. what is the first thing you do with him? keep in mind, this is a man from the 500s (he died in 542), and you are from the 21st century (2024).

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[bambiali]

[onceifixmehesgonnamissme]

[sully-s]

Listen, if I had the time I would just make Justice Leauge the mockumentary, lol.

[obsesssedblerd]

You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.” 

“Hm.” He doesn’t look up. 

“May I ask what you are doing?” 

“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.” 

Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.” 

“I am doing no such thing.” 

You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.

“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.” 

The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.” 

He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.” 

He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say. 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.” 

Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.” 

— — — —

The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her. 

“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.” 

The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?” 

Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.” 

You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”

[strawbunnydoesart]

✨💫Quick WIP of @kianamaiart 's lil magical girl character! I literally love her design sm (her monotone and "I'm done with life" expressions are my favorite shdgjshaksjsj) ⭐️

It's a bit messy and I need to work on the contrast more so it's easier to read,, but I think the overall composition and colors are nice :)) I might work on it a bit more but ehhhhh what if I said I don't wanna

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the thing about Professor Utonium is he didn't accidentally create 3 daughters, he purposely created 3 daughters who accidentally have superpowers. the sugar, spice, and everything nice was intentional, only Chemical X was an accident

this guy became a girl dad on purpose and I am so proud of him for achieving his dream!