#he must be so happy to have his body back 😅

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Chucky Lee Ray played by Brad Dourif, 2023.

[ozzgin]

Dear Ozz or Ozzgin, don't know how to call you 😅, say can I ask for an advice? I don't know if I would end up "adopted by a monster" or being a client for "the rent a monster", since I think I would need a service monster, because I used to have a sturdy body but my health is deteriorating (hypothyroidism , asma, kidney calculi, allergic to the sun) but I still need to work and help my family, (as a vet, working in a farm and a construction company can't relax around people because I end up alert until everyone is gone or sleep, and always look like a zombie, too tired but still going on ~sorry if it's to long feel free to erase or ignore~

Best rewards and hope you have a happy holidays :3

It's simple: Human Adoption Agency x Rent A Monster crossover.

You finally decide to sign up for a service monster. The rental company is quick to give you a call back, telling you they found the perfect match.

So, off you go. You knock on the door, and a monstrous creature greets you enthusiastically.

"Ah! You must be my new assistant," the beast says, ushering you inside.

"No, I'm...you're my service aid," you mutter, somewhat confused. Have you stumbled upon the wrong address?

The gargantuan fiend takes a moment to consider your words. He retrieves his paperwork, putting on his reading glasses, and you pull out your own documents.

You both go over the paragraphs. Ah. It seems that you've been matched...to each other. You've been tasked to keep the monster company, and he's been employed to look after your needs. A perfect match indeed.

As the realization hits, he begins to stumble away from you, covering his reddening face with his hands.

"Will it be an issue?" you ask, awkwardly.

"No, none at all," he stutters, trying his best to regain his composure.

The exchange makes him feel like you're now an officially married couple. It doesn't help that you're throwing him those cute, human glances. Can he truly stay professional? On the other hand, he'd hate to see you leave. He sighs, then turns to face you.

"Let's do our best, shall we?"

[storiesfromafan]

Protector - Benny x Plus!Size Reader

A/N: possibly not the post most are waiting for. I've taken some time off writing too much, so I don't get burnt out 😅

I wrote this a week ago, and revised it today. Hopefully it's alright..

Previous: Insecurities, I Want All Of You (18+), Mini Dress (18+)

Warning/s: mention of fighting, possible spelling/grammar mistakes

Since being Benny's girl, you’ve only seen a sweet, caring side of him. How the man thinks of you, pushes you so that you can see how great you are. And you were slowly believing him. This man has a way of switching off the negative voice in your head. Along with other things he does with his hands, mouth and other appendage that turns off your brain completely.

Benny is the first and only man to make you feel seen and heard. When he watches you as you speak, it’s like the man is hanging on every word. Or how he walks confidently beside you, along with sitting with his arm around your shoulder or waist. He might come off as possessive, but it was Benny's way of keeping you safe. And he did everything to make sure you were safe and secure. As he says a man must look after, and protect what’s his.

Like right now, at a local car show. Johnny deciding the Vandal's would take a ride and make an appearance. The bikers weren’t warmly welcomed by the general public. But the other biker clubs acknowledged you all. Currently you were sitting with a bunch of the Vandal women on a blanket and deep conversation. You were all swapping stories and laughing. Yet your gaze would drift to Benny, as he stood with Johnny, Brucie and a few other Vandal's drinking and talking.

The way he stood there in those dirty white jeans of his, black t-shirt hanging off his upper body, and his denim vest sporting his colours. The way he would take a sip from his beer bottle while listening to whatever was being said, a deep blank look on his beautiful face. It caused butterflies to swarm your stomach, and a heat to light in your lower regions. How did you get so damn lucky? He chased you, you told yourself.

Of course after few of the women noticed your wondering eyes, they began to tease you about it. You of course blushed, embarrassed to have been called out. But it was all in good fun. That turned the conversation on you and Benny. You answered their questions as best you could. All you could confirm for them was that you and Benny were together, he treated you well and was pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You weren’t sure what happened or how it started, but the sound of yelling and then a tussle caught your ears. Kathy called your name as she pointed over to where Benny had been. Turning around you found where the noise was coming from, two men were throwing punches and on the ground. And one of those men was your Benny. Quickly you and the women got up, you moved fast to cross the space, before you could get too close Johnny put an arm out to stop you.

“Best not to get close, sweetheart” Johnny stated. “Let him get it out of his system, alright?”

You couldn’t say anything to that. All you could do was watch in shock as Benny whaling on a random guy, who looked to not even be a part of any biker club. Falling to the ground, both men rolled around before Benny got on top of him. The way he laid into the guy, fist after fist landing into the man’s face, shocked you. This was a new side of Benny, one you weren’t sure you liked. But you would wait to make your mind up after discussing it with him. You needed to know the context of why they ended up in a fight.

The next blow that Benny landed had a crack sound, which you guessed meant he’d broken the man’s nose. “T-this has to stop" you pleaded with Johnny. “I-I think he broke his nose".

Johnny, now getting concerned, called to Wahoo and Corky. He told them to separate the men on the ground. Both Vandal's moved quickly, Wahoo wrapping his arms under Benny's arms and pulled him back. While Corky checked the guy on the ground, happy to know he was breathing, he moved to help drag off a bucking Benny, desperate to get free. You looked to Benny, but went to check on the guy, at Johnny's request. As you were a nurse after all.

While beside the man, who was moaning and groaning, you could hear Benny calling out. You couldn’t make out what he was saying clearly, but from the sounds of it, it had something to do with you. Confused and unsure of the whole situation, you tended to the man. But he needed more medical attention then you could give, so you fixed him up enough so that his friends could get him to a hospital.

With that seen to, you slipped away to clean your hands and take a moment to wrap your head around as much of this as you could. Kathy went with you to the restrooms, saying she couldn’t believe that happened and wondered what caused it. You agreed, wanting to know what triggered Benny. With hands washed and feeling less frazzled, you both made your way back to the group, and Benny. Who was sitting on the grass, taking a swig of a beer Johnny had handed him.

Of course Johnny was talking to him, no doubt wanting to understand what happened. Yet Benny didn’t talk to him, he just sat there with this dark look upon his face. As you and Kathy drew closer, Benny looked to you. His stormy blues focused on you and you alone. Kathy noticed this and decided to head back to the girls, and you were fine with that. When you stepped up next to Johnny, the older man chose to leave the man on the grass in your hands.

And then it was just you two. You looked around, and fair number of eyes were looking to you both but mostly your man. They were whispering about what had happened, and this would only make the Vandal's less favoured. You got down and took a seat next to Benny, who watched you as he continued to drink. You could see how his knuckles were split and the blood almost dried, and would be bruise nicely. Along with his face, which already started to discolour. Spotting a water bottle and some cloth, no doubt from Johnny wanting Benny to clean his hands, you grabbed them both and made sure he could see you with them.

“Can I clean your knuckles, please?” Your voice was soft and calm, hoping it was soothing.

Benny didn’t say a word, just moved the bottle into his other hand while presenting you the first hand to clean. You tipped some water over the broken skin, blood and some grass washed away. You then dabbed the cloth over the split skin, gently you made sure it looked better than before. With that, Benny swapped hands and you did the same as what you’d just done. You wanted to say something, question him but were unsure of how to word it. Once done you put both items to the side, and then turned back to Benny.

“So...what happened back there?” You finally asked, first thing to come to mind.

Benny remained silent, brooding and acting like a wounded puppy.

You sighed. “Do you have anything to say?”

 Finally he spoke up, voice gruff and low. “He was asking for it”.

You blinked. “For a beat-up?”

“Yeah” he said like the most obvious thing in the world.

“Care to elaborate on what happened? Why you beat him up?” You watched Benny, studying his body language to your question. He sat there a little stiffly, almost a little embarrassed really.

He shrugged, muttering something you couldn’t hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that" you stated, looking at him in confusion.

Benny sighed. “He disrespected you" he began, putting down his beer bottle. “He walked past with his friend, he was lookin’ at you and made...comments about ya. They both laughed. I saw red, and...yeah, ya know the rest".

You slowly nodded, processing his words. “W-what did he say?”

Benny looked to you with wide puppy dog eyes, begging to not ask him that question. But you needed to know. What was it that made him beat the guy up so badly? Sure, you’ve heard most of the words people call you. But for Benny to snap like he did, it had to be bad, right?

“Baby, ya don’t need to know" Benny retorted.

“I know...but I want to know" you countered.

Once more he sighed, you could see it in his eyes. How he was fighting to keep it to himself. But you took one of his hands in yours, gently rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. You told him it was fine, you could handle it.

Benny nodded. “He called you a whale...��� you could hear the anger in Benny's voice. “And how you shouldn’t have been let out in public...how disgustin’ people like you were...” – he paused, calming himself before going on – “that any man who has ya would be, should be embarrassed. Because...a fat woman like you is an eyesore...”

It was silent between you both after that. You were processing what Benny recalled the guy saying. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called such a names, nor would it be the last. Yet you had never had such hate thrown at you. But after being around a bunch of people who have been so nice and accepting, it was a shock to hear such words. Benny removed his hand from your hold before wrapping his arm around you, drawing you to him. He kissed your temple, resting his lips there for a moment.

“He’s wrong, ya now that..." Benny muttered against your skin. “People like him are the worst...thinkin’ so terribly about others. They do it just to make themselves feel better".

You grasped his t-shirt and buried your face into his chest. Hearing Benny say that made your heart skip a beat. This man stood up for you, put a guy in hospital because of how cruel and disrespectful he had been to you. If you weren’t smitten by Benny before, you were now. He definitely was protecting what was his.

Pulling back you smiled up at your man, “thank you for standing up for me".

A mirroring smile formed on Benny's lips. “Always will for you, baby".

You moved closer, straightening up as you kissed his lips. Mindful of the forming bruises. Benny on the other hand, he didn’t care, he was the one to kiss you back tenfold. Yes, he was protective of you. You were his girl after all. No one would disrespect you, he’d make sure of it. Or else they’d meet his fists.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 35

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: rude bitches, rich people being wildly out of touch with the modern era, vague hints of body image issues, comfort, and lots of holiday fluff wc: 3.6k

A/N: Happy holidays all! I had hoped to have this chapter up yesterday, but the characters stopped talking to me for a few days so ... here we are. 😅

Chapter Selection

Jason healed fast, when he bothered to get medical attention. By the end of the week he was back to his standard training regiment, the arm wound was already shaping up to be one of his less pronounced scars, and Bruce insisted he couldn't use the incident to get out of the Wayne Foundation Christmas Gala. So, the Friday before Christmas I found myself back in my red dress, this time paired with a white faux fur wrap draped across my shoulders. Jason bit back a grin when I held out the necklace he'd given me, eagerly taking it. I held my hair out of the way while he clasped it around my neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my neck.

“Stunning~” he purred softly, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I giggled softly, leaning against him. “Thank you~”

Damian cleared his throat behind us and I turned toward him. He looked downright regal in his suit; it was perfectly tailored, and the vibrant green tie matched his eyes beautifully.

“Oh my god, Damian! You look incredible, sweetie!” I squealed a bit, clenching my fists by my cheeks.

He flushed, looking away awkwardly. “Calm down, sister.”

I bit back the coo’s that threatened to pour out of my mouth. Damian rolled his eyes at the face I was making, and Jason laughed softly; “You might want to let her get it out, demon brat. Wouldn't want her squealing like that when the socialites get here.”

Damian frowned, staring up at me before holding his arms out for a hug. “... Proceed.”

I squealed and pulled him in, kissing the top of his head. “My handsome baby!”

He allowed my babbling for several minutes before gently pulling away. “Alright, alright, that's enough.”

I took a deep breath, getting myself under control again. “Sorry, sorry ... Who else will be there tonight?”

“Cain and Thomas will be around. And Father and Grayson are on Bat-duty.”

“Ok, cool.” I nodded. “... Where's Tim?”

“He’s needed at a Drake Industries event tonight. But he'll be here tomorrow for the holiday.” Jason rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile on his face.

Damian stayed glued to my side throughout the evening. Since Bruce was ‘inescapably occupied', the Gotham social scene had their eyes on those of us who were present. The WE board was also at the gala, so we were fortunately not accosted with requests to meet with Bruce at the office, but we were left on our own to deal with the social aspect.

An older woman approached us on the side of the dance floor, an insincere smile plastered to her face. “Now you must be Jason Todd. And young Damian Wayne, ah, such a pleasure to meet you both! Mr. Wayne has told us so much about you!”

Jason raised an eyebrow; “oh, has he?”

“Of course! He's terribly proud of his boys, you know. Oh, we were just devastated when we heard he was busy tonight. Perhaps you could tell your father we spoke?” She smiled brightly down at Damian; “it is getting to be about that time, isn't it? And our Maria would just love to meet you, young man.”

Damian pressed closer to me, reaching for my hand. I frowned, gently squeezing back. “... Sorry, it's getting to be what time?”

The woman tittered; “well, young men of status must be introduced to their social equals, mustn't they? Mr. Wayne will want to secure a good match for his son.”

I blinked a bit, wrapping an arm protectively around Damian's shoulders as I turned toward Jason; “what year is it? Have we fallen through a wormhole to the Regency period?”

Jason laughed as the woman's expression soured. “Perhaps we should call Mr. Wayne directly...”

“I'd love to hear that. When are you going to call? I'll make sure we're visiting.” Jason snorted.

The woman scurried away, huffing softly. Damian frowned deeply, staying close. I gently stroked his hair. “... Do you want to go up to your room, sweetheart? We can say you got tired.”

He slowly shook his head. “No, not yet, I'll be ok.”

Cass came over, looking at me as she held a hand out to Jason; “I need to borrow him for a minute.”

Jason rolled his eyes; “why?”

“I told the VP I couldn't dance with him because I promised you this one.”

He sighed, taking her hand. “Why me? Why not Duke?”

They made their way onto the dance floor, and Damian looked up at me, offering me his hand. “... Sister, shall we dance?”

I chuckled softly, taking it. “Such a little gentleman~”

He smirked a bit, leading me onto the floor after Cass and Jason. Damian was a surprisingly good dancer, and we spun around the dance floor a few times. Eventually, we ended up at the buffet table for some punch. A group of women were giggling amongst themselves nearby, and I caught just a bit of their conversation.

“It's just a shame about his face, you know?”

“Ugh, tragic. He was such a cute kid.”

“I know! I could have gotten past his poor upbringing, but that scar … that’s a deal breaker.”

“Didn't he have to find a girl from the bad side of town?”

“Yeah, he did! And I heard she's pretty f-”

Damian snapped; “yes, my new sister is very pretty. She's also clever, and kind, and we're all very pleased to call her family.”

The girls gasped softly, eyes darting toward us; “... This is a private conversation.”

“Is it? You weren't doing a very good job of keeping it to yourselves.”

I gently placed a hand on Damian's shoulder; “ignore them kiddo, they're not important.”

“Excuse you?” One of the girls shrieked; “my daddy could buy and sell you!”

“And yet he can't buy you some manners?” I sipped my punch, rolling my eyes as she sputtered.

I felt a familiar hand on my back as Jason slid in next to me. “Princess? Is everything alright?”

I smiled softly, leaning against him slightly; “hello, handsome~”

“These imbeciles are under the incredibly flawed impression that their opinions on our family are worth listening to.” Damian growled softly.

Jason's arm tightened around my waist. “I see … Well, which of us is the star of tonight's gossip?”

One of the girls cleared her throat; “n- nothing like that, Mr. Todd. These two misheard…”

“I highly doubt that. Come on, say it to our faces.” Jay raised an eyebrow.

“... Really, there's nothing to say-”

“They were commenting on your scars, Todd.”

The girls paled, clearing their throats awkwardly. “N- now that's just not true. None of us said anything about you…”

“My brother is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. Tell the truth now, you don't have any vapid comments for me, maybe about this one?” He gestured toward the J branded onto his cheek. “Everyone's always so curious about it. If you want to talk, talk. Don't let me stop you.”

I gently squeezed his hand. “Jace, they're not worth it. Come on, let's get some air, yeah?”

He slowly nodded, frowning. “... Yeah, alright baby.”

I nodded, letting him lead the way. As we passed the girls, I leaned in to whisper; “it's Christmas, so I'm going to be nice to you today. But if I hear one more unkind word about my man tonight I will find you, and I will show you exactly how we handle these things on the ‘bad side of town'. Got it?”

The ringleader of their group sneered at me; “what are you gonna do, sweetheart?”

I looked her over; “... Let's just say you'll look more interesting when I'm done.”

“Is that a threat?!” She growled.

“Of course not. It's a guarantee.” I smirked, rejoining my boys as they stepped into the gardens.

The snow swirled lazily around us, and Jason leaned against a stone railing. I gently stroked his back, and he sighed softly, holding me close. “... You weren't particularly subtle. Someone will have heard what you said to them.”

“Fine, they can share the story far and wide for all I care. It will spare me from having to repeat myself.”

He chuckled softly, looking over at me. “... It's supposed to be my job to defend your honor…”

“How exactly will you do that, Todd? Shoot the trollops?” Damian smirked a bit. “That will be even less subtle than her threats.”

“... Did they say something?” He frowned.

“Damian didn't let them.”

He smirked; “I was not about to let them speak unkindly of my favorite sister.”

Jason chuckled, ruffling his hair a bit. “Good.”

I smiled softly, kissing Jason's cheek. “You feel alright?”

He leaned in, nodding slowly. “Yeah … I just … I'd almost forgotten what that was like.” He leaned against me, and I held him close. “... At least they don't know about the rest of them though.”

I cupped his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “They’re nothing. They’re insects taking cheap shots at a king because it makes them feel better about how insignificant they are. It lets them pretend they don’t burn with jealousy every time they see you.”

He chuckled weakly, cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. “A king, huh? Does that make you my queen?”

“I suppose that's for you to decide, my king~” I giggled softly.

Damian gagged a bit. “Ok, both of you need to stop, or I'll have to follow Thomas around for a while.”

I woke on Christmas Eve to an insistent knocking. Jason's arms tightened around me and he groaned softly. “... Whaaat?”

“Snowball fight!!!” Duke roared from the other side of the door.

Jason shot out of bed, stumbling for the closet.

“Woah!” I blinked a bit. “What's going on?”

“Snowball fight! Get dressed!” He grinned, tossing some warm clothes onto the bed for me. I chuckled softly, pulling them on. Jay grabbed my hand as soon as I was dressed, pulling me toward the door.

We met Duke, Tim, and Steph in the foyer. Tim grinned, leading us all outside. The grounds were blanketed in pristine white, with more flakes fluttering down around us. “Come on, we gotta make a base!”

We ran for the yard. Dick and Bruce were already building a shelter while Damian and Cass made snowballs. We hunkered down a good distance from them.

“Duke, Steph, you're on snowballs!” Tim announced. They got started, and the rest of us began creating a snow hill to hide behind.

“Sister! It's not too late, you can join the winning side!” Damian called across the yard.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you!” I laughed. “Join us, baby brother, and our victory will be glorious!”

“I will not betray my father!” He roared, laughing. “If you will not join us, you are the enemy! There will be no mercy, sister! Reconsider your loyalties!”

“You reconsider yours, little one!”

Jason laughed, offering me a snowball. “Ladies first?”

I grinned, kissing his cheek, and threw. The ball burst against Bruce's back, and the game was on. Soon I could barely make out Tim's attempts to shout instructions to our team over the sounds of laughter and snowballs bursting all around us.

We must have spent hours out there. Duke snuck away at one point, bringing back donuts and thermoses of coffee. After a long while, a taxi van came up the driveway. Bruce called time out as Bernard hopped out. The driver lowered a ramp, and Babs rolled out as well.

Tim beamed, running over to greet his boyfriend, and Dick ran over to give Babs a hug. Everyone gravitated toward the house to say hi, and Alfred called us all in for hot chocolates. Jay wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a couch to cuddle and warm up.

“Should we do first presents now?” Dick grinned.

“First presents?”

“On Christmas Eve everyone gets to open one present!” Steph grinned, pressing a box into Cass's hand. “Open this one, Cass!”

Everyone took turns opening gifts. Jason tried to give me one, but Tim shouted; “wait!”

I jumped, looking over to him. “... Tim, we had an agreement. You got me jewelry for my first gala, that was my Christmas present from you.”

He grinned, holding out a box. It had blue wrapping paper with a big silver bow. “Yes, but this isn't a Christmas present. This is a Christmas Eve present. … And if you don't buy that, it's a Hanukkah present.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “... Are you Jewish?”

“Bruce is.”

“... Do you celebrate Hanukkah, or are you using it to make me accept your gift?”

“Sometimes we do, when his cousin visits. But otherwise, it’s hard enough to get him to do a one day holiday.” He shrugged, pressing the box into my hands.

“... Ok, fine. Thank you, Tim.” I chuckled, rolling my eyes affectionately as I took the box. I carefully unwrapped it, blinking in shock; Tim had put together an assortment of rare and luxurious spices, including saffron, Tahitian vanilla beans, and several things I'd never even heard of. “... Woah! Tim, this is so much…”

He grinned. “You like it? I figured you probably haven't had a chance to cook with some of these before.”

“You'd be right. Thank you so much!” I gave Tim a quick hug, and Damian peered at the spices.

“Sister, we must make saffron cookies. Please?”

I grinned. “Sounds good, kiddo! Next weekend?”

He beamed and nodded, leaning against me a bit. I stroked his hair, holding him close as Bruce and Dick brought out some games. The rest of the day was spent playing and eating. Bruce surprised me with how enthusiastic he was; given how Dick and Tim spoke about it, I had assumed he would participate in a little bit, then disappear for a while. Instead, he spent the whole day with us, and he even seemed to be having fun.

Bernard and Babs stayed for dinner before heading back home, sharing a cab into the city again. At bedtime Damian had me go up with him to tuck him in. I sat on the side of his bed as he got situated, smiling softly as I offered him a small red box. “I have a present for you, baby brother.”

He tilted his head, curious; “not tomorrow?”

“You'll get a present tomorrow too, but I thought you'd want to receive this one in private.” He opened it slowly, sliding my old ipod into his hand. “I recorded something special for you.”

He looked up at me, sliding an earbud into his ear before pushing play. His face lit up as the song started. “... You recorded my lullabies?”

I nodded, grinning; “so that you can listen to them even if I can't sing for you myself.”

He grinned, hugging me tight. “... Thank you, sister.”

I stroked his back gently, kissing the top of his head. “You're welcome, baby.”

I set the ipod on his bedside table for him, tucking him in. Once he was comfy I cleared my throat and began to sing. The words flowed, almost effortlessly, and I silently thanked the grandma's who'd spent so much time helping me practice at the Arab Cultural Center. Damian's eyes stayed glued to my face as I sang, a look of shock and wonder frozen on his face.

As I finished the song, he whispered; “... You … you learned an Arabic lullaby … for me?”

I nodded, smiling softly; “I know my accent is very American, but the ladies at the cultural center said it was coming along. What do you think?”

“... It is very American, … but it's perfect. … Can … Can you do it again?”

I nodded, singing the song again. He curled up and I gently trailed a finger down the bridge of his nose, lulling him to sleep. His eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

In the morning I woke to Jason's fingers delicately tracing designs on my shoulder. I smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his chest. “Morning~”

“Morning, doll~ … merry Christmas~”

“Merry Christmas~ … ready for your present?”

He chuckled softly. “I don't know, am I?”

“Not that kind of present, silly.” I chuckled, stretching as I sat up and grabbed a big bag of presents. I found Jason's, offering him the red and gold wrapping. He kissed me gently before carefully popping it open. He slowly smiled, looking over the handmade book inside. The cover was a watercolor painting of the pair of us, Jason cupping my chin about to kiss me. It was a perfect mirror of the kiss scene in the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. He carefully opened the book, reading the scenes I had dutifully transcribed; scenes that reminded me of us.

“It's beautiful, baby girl, thank you.” he smiled softly, pulling me into a kiss. “I love you~”

I grinned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love you too~”

He smiled softly, offering me a silver wrapped gift. “Your turn.” I grinned, opening it to find a book; ‘Love in Prose: An Annotator's Book of Love Poems'. “I was going to write something for you, but … well, you know I struggle with words. I try, but they don't come to me the way they come to you, you always know what to say. ... I did find some of my own words; they're not very pretty, but I can promise you that they are true. But, mostly I found myself quoting the experts. ... So, I thought it best to just … give you the experts.”

I flipped open the book, reading the first poem; Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe.

“Oh, Jason … it's perfect.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, hugging him tight. “I love it! Thank you~”

He hugged back, kissing my temple. We cuddled like that for a little while, until a soft knock on the door interrupted the quiet.

“Todd? Sister?”

“Morning, kiddo~”

He popped the door open, still wearing his pj's. “Hi. Breakfast is ready.”

I nodded, getting up. “Thanks Damian!”

Jason stretched, popping his back, and picked up the presents. “Ok, let's go!”

We met everyone in the family room, and Jason set the presents out. I passed out hand painted snowflake shaped platters loaded with cookies, brownies, and fudge. Damian's platter had extra ma'amoul, but everyone got a selection. Jason passed out mugs filled with hot chocolate packets, candy canes, and marshmallow toppers.

“So cute! Did you guys paint these yourselves?” Steph grinned.

I nodded, beaming. “We went to the place in the mall! Jay did the mugs, and I did the platters! And we made the treats ourselves!”

Everyone got comfy, and more presents were passed out. Bruce gave everyone gift cards for a bunch of fun things around Gotham; mine included several coffee shops and restaurants near Gotham University, as well as craft stores, and book stores. Jason, Damian and I all also received year passes to the Gotham Zoo. Dick had opted for practical gifts; lots of cozy slippers, favorite snacks, and upgrades for people's home goods. Tim gave high tech presents; lots of hologram art and smart devices. Steph passed around self care items, all luxury brands. Finally, it was my turn. I gave everyone their gifts, chewing my lower lip a bit. I really hoped they liked them.

For Dick, I had embroidered an elephant head onto a royal blue scarf. Elephants are clever, and friendly, and many have a surprising sense of humor, much like Dick. Tim received a handmade journal; the cover had a watercolor painting of a dragon guarding his forest. For Babs, I painted a cityscape, with heavenly sunbeams peaking between the buildings, illuminating otherwise dark corners of the city, just like she did for all of us. For Steph, a purple beanie with green vines and a large white dahlia embroidered on - the flower of kindness.

Damian received an emerald green scarf with a black and gray wolf cub and a silver crescent moon. Wolves are loyal, and even a young pup is fiercely protective of their family. Perfect for my baby brother. Cass's black beanie was embroidered with lavender and rosemary - herbs said to foster clarity, something she seemed to bring to every situation. For Duke, I had embroidered solar motifs in gold on a white scarf. Alfred received a watercolor painting of a fjord; a peaceful, but defensibly sound landscape. And finally, for Bruce, a black scarf with colorful fringe and embroidered stripes representing each of his children.

Dick and Steph put their presents on immediately, complimenting my choices, and Damian shot up to run to the tree. He pulled a large flat rectangle wrapped in green out from behind the tree, bringing it over to me.

“Open this next.”

I nodded, grinning, and carefully peeled the paper away. As soon as I realized what he was giving me, I felt tears threaten to fill my eyes. “Damian, you're giving me the painting?”

He nodded. “You said it made you feel beautiful.”

I nodded quickly, sliding the paper away. The portrait he'd painted of the three of us on my couch was even more beautiful than I'd remembered. “It does. It's incredible. Thank you, baby brother.”

“I haven't seen this painting, what did he do?” Dick craned his neck to look over my shoulder, and I turned the painting around for everyone to see.

“Woah … you're getting so good, Damian!” Steph grinned.

He flushed a bit, clearly pleased. “Thank you…”

Bruce nodded. “It's remarkable.”

Damian smiled, taking his seat again. Jay wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and Duke took his turn passing out gifts.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

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[zoeykallus]

Hello Zoey

First , I wanted to tell you again that I love the stories you gave us , thank you , really , you're one of the few who can make me forget time when I'm reading 👌❤️

It's my first request so I'm sorry if it's a bit clumsy 😅

I had an idea , imagine that after a mission the reader is so tired that they took the first bunk they saw but it's not their's , how would the batchers react ? x)

Aloha!

Very happy to read this! 😊 Thank you so much!

There is a first time for everything. Don't worry, there is nothing clumsy about it. I think I got it. So pre Relationship, but with already growing yet unspoken feelings? At least that would be my guess. Let me see, this could be fun 😁🤭

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Sleepy Mix-Ups

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Warnings: None I guess/SFW/Fluff

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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Hunter

He almost threw his equipment at you. At the last moment, he sees you lying in his bunk and just manages to stop himself. Hunter is puzzled, raises his eyebrows questioningly and looks at you for a moment. A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. You look kind of cute lying there in his bunk. He sighs softly and looks around, his gaze falling on your actual bunk. He walks towards it, takes off his equipment, and even before he lies down in it, he smells it. The bedding and the pillow smell of your shampoo, your perfume, of you. A strange, warm shiver runs through his entire body. Hunter looks back over his shoulder to his own bunk, where you are slumbering blissfully. He knows the scent of you will keep him awake for a while, make him woozy. He feels a tingling restlessness under his skin, a silent longing for more of what reaches his nose, more of you. Hunter lies down anyway, the other bunks are occupied, and he doesn't want to wake you. He lies awake half the night and dreams of you await him in his sleep, some gentle, some wild. When he wakes up, his heart is beating fast, his pulse racing as if he has just experienced a pleasantly exciting adventure.

He grins a little stupidly to himself and flinches when he hears your voice. "Sorry, I must have gotten the wrong bunk last night because I was so tired." Hunter clears his throat, straightens up and says with a wink, "It's no problem" He looks nervous and a little shaky, you have no idea why, but as he leaves the room to use the refresher, you don't give it a second thought.

Echo

He stands in front of his bunk and looks down at you. He scratches his chin uncertainly with the scomp link. Echo doesn't really know what to do, he doesn't really want to wake you up, you look so peaceful and relaxed. The day has been hard and exhausting for all of you. He holds his hand over his mouth as he yawns. Tired, he rubs his eyes a moment later. His gaze wanders to your bunk and back again. Echo doesn't quite know whether he should just lie down. You've probably made a mistake out of tiredness, if he were to just lie down in your bed now, he would feel like an intruder. Even if the thought of lying on your pillow, which certainly smells like you, is incredibly tempting. Echo sighs softly, sits down on the floor next to his bunk where you are lying and leans against it. It's anything but cozy, but he's tired enough to fall asleep after a short time sitting up, his head resting halfway on the edge of the bunk. He wakes up when something brushes against his head. The blanket you covered yourself with. You move, it's early morning, you're still half asleep when you see Echo looking at you over the edge of the bunk.

You blink several times, a little startled. "Echo? What are you doing down there?" He straightens up a little awkwardly, his back aching a little from the position he's been sleeping in. He smirks wryly and says, "Well, you occupied my bed, so I had to improvise" You rub the sleep from your eyes and look around the bunk. Echo is right, this is not your bedding, not your bunk. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you stare at him. Others might be angry, but Echo just smiles at you. "Why didn't you just use my bunk?" you ask, confused. Echo shrugs, scratches the back of his head uncertainly and says, "Well, I don't know, I didn't want to just do it without being asked" You laugh softly. "But Echo, I climbed into your bed without being asked" Wrecker in the background, still half asleep himself, grins at you from his bunk, "Echo just wished you'd done it while he was in there"

Echo's eyes widen and his heart races. He feels he has been caught, but grumbles at his brother, "Would you please keep your comments to yourself?" When he looks at you again, you both smile shyly, barely able to meet each other's gaze.

Wrecker

He looks into his bunk, puzzled. Wrecker wasn't expecting this. A little unsettled, he scratches the back of his head and looks around. Everyone else is already asleep, or about to fall asleep. His huge figure stands bent over you next to the bunk you're lying in, his bunk. Normally you would probably have woken up just from the feeling of being watched, by his presence, but you're so wiped out today, probably not even a bomb would wake you up. Wrecker's bunk is bigger than the standardized bunks, because he himself is also bigger than the norm among soldiers, so you should have noticed that alone, but you didn't. He looks over to your bunk, the only one that is still empty and much smaller than he is used to. You mumble something in your sleep. A smile spreads across his face. He was actually toying with the idea of waking you up, but you look so cute, he can't bring himself to do it. Wrecker heads for your bunk, gets ready for bed, and squeezes himself in. When you wake up the next morning, it takes a moment, but you realize you're in the wrong bunk. "Oops," you mumble quietly, straighten up and look around. Everyone is still asleep.

Wrecker is lying in your bunk. He can't stretch out his legs, he's curled up like a fetus, his knees sticking out over the edge of the bunk. It looks uncomfortable, but also adorable. You slip out of bed and quietly walk over to him. You gently nudge him a few times until he opens his eyes. "Hey, big guy," you whisper to him. He blinks, finally grins at you and mumbles back, "Mornin' sweetheart" "Sorry about the bunk, I was so tired I didn't realize which bunk I was in," you say apologetically. Wrecker peels himself out of the too-small bunk and says with a shrug, "It's okay, it can happen" You are relieved that he takes it so lightly. He adds, "Your bunk is pretty tiny, but it smells damn good" You smile shyly and feel your cheeks heat up.

Tech

He almost sits down on you because he is so engrossed in his holopad. At the last moment, he realizes that his bunk is already occupied. Tech lowers the holopad and stares at you silently, as if he could wake you up with his gaze alone. His brow furrowed, he looks at his bunk and wonders how you could have mistaken it. The walls are scrawled with drawings and calculations he made at some point, it's hard to miss. Were you really that tired? He reaches out for you, but just above your arm, his hand stops, he holds it there uncertainly in the air for a while, undecided whether to wake you or not. Actually, this is his bunk, Tech thinks, you shouldn't sleep in it. But there's another thought, a feeling. Because you are sleeping in his bed, you are very close to him in a way. In the morning, his pillow will certainly smell of you. A part of him that he doesn't really understand at the moment, likes that, a lot. He stands there for a long time, the datapad in his hand, watching you. Echo whispers softly over the snoring of the others, "Why don't you go to their bunk, the staring is getting creepy" Tech blinks, startled, and turns to his brother.

He whispers back, "But this is my bunk" Echo sighs and says a little impatiently, "They were extremely tired, I'm sure it was an accident. Now just let them sleep and lie down in their bunk" Tech walks to your bunk, stares at it for a while, then finally lies down. It feels very different, strange, but somehow also pleasant. It smells good, although foreign, but at the same time familiar, because it smells like you. Lost in thought, he begins to paint the walls of the bunk with drawings and calculations. When he falls asleep, Tech still has the pen in his hand and your smell in his nose. It feels like he's falling asleep in your arms and all night long, Tech has a little smile on his lips. When he wakes up, it's still night, and you're already standing next to his bunk. "Sorry," you say quietly. Tech needs a moment to collect himself, the fog of sleep hasn't quite left him yet. "It's okay," he says just as softly, and peels himself out of bed to swap bunks back with you.

You lie down and look around in the semi-darkness. Tech has painted practically every free space. As you lie on your back, you look directly at the sketch of a podracer and a wild sequence of numbers that probably only he understands. You smile. Tech has slept in your bed and left something like his signature, somehow you are so happy about it that you want to kick your feet and squeak.

Crosshair

He is taking off his equipment, turns around and pauses in mid-motion. His brows draw together critically. There's someone lying in his bunk, you. He mutters quietly, "You're kidding me" He lets out an annoyed sigh and stares at you. The intensity of his gaze alone might even have woken you up under normal circumstances, but not today. His gaze finally moves to your bunk, which is empty at the moment, but then his eyes narrow to critical slits. Crosshair has no intention of being evicted from his bunk, accident or not. He grabs you and pushes you to the back of the bunk. Just as you open your eyes in shock and blink, trying to get your bearings, he joins you and takes part of the blanket, decently enough to keep you covered. Startled, you stare at him.

"But... what...?" He cocks a brow at you. "This is my bunk, if you want to sleep in it, fine, but I'm not swapping, so you better get used to me being close or crawl back into your own, kitten" he grumbles. Your heart is racing, you're confused and speechless, trying to untangle the situation in your mind. Just having him so close to you makes you nervous enough. But to be honest, you have no desire to go back to your own bunk. All you say is a quiet, "Okay" A smirk twitches briefly at the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable. Quietly and much more softly, in his smoky voice, he says as he closes his eyes, "Good night, Kitten"

@rintheemolion

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[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Mine to Protect Part III

@thetrueghostqueen Thank you so much for your wonderful request for the birthday prompts! I truly hope you enjoyed the story! Even though it turned out pretty big 😅

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4408

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Final part everyone. I hope you enjoyed this! It really wasn't supposed to be so big... but then there were so many little moments I wanted to include... Thank you for reading!

Part 3 of 3

|Part 1| | |Part 2| | |Masterlist|

You avoid the wedding conversation with your father like the plague, but you chase Kid’s company like a hunter tracking deer through the glens. More than once, he tumbles into your sheets –sometimes you don’t even make it that far. He has you against doors, walls, on the ground, under the shade of trees, anywhere –everywhere!

You now know the shape and contour of all his scars and muscles. The way they ripple as he uses them to handle your body effortlessly, the way they tense when he’s lost at the edge, spilling his release into you, or the way they soften as you search for the warmth of his embrace afterwards. 

He’s told you about many of the scars. He’s even told you how his left arm was rendered almost useless during battle. He has opened up to you, and you to him, sharing all your worries over your people, sharing how you’ve lost your brother to brigands when you were young and vowed not to be a helpless noble girl –he assures you, you’re not.

Things happen easily between you and Kid, even though you still disagree on many things and keep fighting like cats and dogs. Most of those fights end the same, with both of you lost in a mess of tangled limbs. 

You’ve fallen.

So hard it hurts. And it’s scary as hell in more ways than one. Not only do you not know if Kid feels the same for you, but you also don’t want your heart and emotions to be so tied to a single person. Because, at this moment, it feels like you might die if something happens to Kid. 

You can’t hold back that conversation anymore, so it takes a particularly cold night –a bit warmer now that you and Kid have exercised– when you’re lost in his embrace, to peel the words from your lips.

Kid’s arm grips you, his hand securing you tightly by the waist, and you absentmindedly realise that he never holds you differently. It’s always with strength, a fierce claim, or a desperate need to protect. Your fingers trace the scar on his chest, as you usually do, and that always brings a soft smile to his lips as he relaxes his breathing.

After a while, he speaks. “Yer awfully quiet today. Ye must tell me what I did tae get ye tae shut up.” He chuckles. “I might need that information for other nights.”

But you don’t reply. Not with a chuckle, nor with a witty response as he was expecting you to. 

“Lass?” He opens his eyes and lifts your chin with his fingers to inspect your face, and you sigh. 

“What are we, Kid?” The fear of his answer grips your heart in its clutches holding it ransom. 

“What do ye mean?”

Sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed, you lock your gaze with his. “This, us. What are we?” You gesture between your bodies, impatience oozing from your pores. 

Kid sits up as well, running a hand through his fiery, slightly damp hair. “Lass… we… we’re us.” He shrugs, and you sigh again. Talking about feelings with Kid is like pulling a sword from solid rock. Clearly, he senses that you’re upset, because he tries again. “I care for ye.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So, that’s it.” He reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. 

“Is that all? You care?”

“We have fun, aye, lass?” He smirks at you, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s not even inching closer to where you want him to be. 

“Aye. Fun. You care, and we have fun. That’s all there is, right?”

Kid tenses, and the ticking in his jaw alerts you that he’s finally taking this seriously. “There cannae be anythin’ else, can there? Yer a noble lady, I’m a hired sword.”

You nod. In your head, you know that, technically there can’t be anything more, but in your heart, there are infinite possibilities. What you wanted to hear from him is that he more than cares, that he is willing to fight for both of you. You want to hear him say that he’s fallen for you too. You don’t expect him to be romantic, he was right all those nights ago, you don’t need to be sweet-talked. But you want something real. 

“Is that what ye wanted to hear? That we’re nae good tae each other? That we cannae work?” He slams a fist on the bed, and you know he’s not angry at you, really, it’s at the situation. 

“No, Kid. What I wanted to hear was a bit of fight in you.” You get up, pull your dress over your head, and your feet through your boots. “Because you fight so hard to protect me from outside threats, when the biggest threat to my heart is right here in my room.”

The hurt in his expression is a mirror of your own as you make your way to the door. But it’s not over yet. There’s something else you need to tell him and this was why you asked him what you were. To see if you and he were worth fighting for. 

Your hand hovers the doorknob and you don’t look back at him as you deliver the news. “My father has chosen a suitor to marry me. I have no say in the matter. We are to be married within a month.”

As tears fill your eyes, you leave the room without looking back, not knowing what Kid feels about the news or if he’s as devastated as you are.

-*-

You will never know how he felt about the news you delivered, because by morning, he’s gone. Just gone, without a trace, without a goodbye, without a word. Why does your chest ache so much when he took your heart with him?

Your father merely assigns another guard to you, but since you’ll be married within a month –securing a formidable war alliance that comes with soldiers and money– and leaving his house, he simply assigns one of his personal guards to shadow you.

This guard is quiet, slow, and an idiot. You lose him on the first try. 

Though you don’t wander too far alone. The streets are growing more dangerous, and this guard isn’t Kid. You don’t trust him to find you anywhere and everywhere, as if you were connected by more than duty. 

You refuse to cry.

You know you have many, many tears to shed, but you gave yourself one night to do it. The night he left you, and that was it. No more tears, no more broken heart. And though it all seems easier said than done, you manage slightly. 

You set up a food delivery system with some of the citizens on the keep’s grounds, so you can be safer and still help them, and this has kept your mind and hands occupied. But the end of the month approaches, and so does your wedding. 

You can’t stop thinking about Kid and how he makes you feel and it’s nearly impossible to think of giving yourself to another man. Be it body or soul. You’re Kid’s. And that’s it.

Days without him seem colder and drag on slower than before. Training doesn't feel the same, and every time you lie in bed you still feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around you. You've found yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once, hoping he's there, just around the corner, with his scowl in place, a witty remark at hand, or a biting word. 

But he's not. 

And so, you tread on, day by day, night by night, forcing your heart to harden, to stop caring, to just let him go. 

Until you feel him. It's that prickling sensation at the nape of your neck, the tingling that bristles your hairs and almost stops your heart. This time, when you glance over your shoulder, he's really there, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to run to him and jump into his arms. 

Gods, you've missed him. 

He looks… haggard. His hair is duller, matted and dirty, there's dried blood on his skin and clothes –you're too scared to ask him if it's his, so you don’t– and there's darkness in his eyes, so much darkness. 

“Kid…” You barely utter, your heart too shattered to let your mouth part with any more words, lest he take them as ransom and use them against you. 

“Forgive me, lass. I've been gone longer than I meant, aye?” His voice seems drained. He looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to scream at him for leaving you without a single word, for making you suffer beyond human understanding. But none of what you feel matters when he looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion at any second. So you drag him into your quarters and draw him a warm bath without uttering another word. 

He sits in the tub as you pour warm water over him, loosening the grime and blood so he can scrub it off. You don't speak. You're too afraid that the first words out of your mouth will be angry and accusing, and now’s not the time to fight. For what it's worth, he doesn't speak either. Whether he's respecting your silence or simply too tired, is anyone's guess. 

When the water rises enough for a comfortable bath, you wet the cloth and hand it to Kid, but he doesn't make a move to take it. His eyes are droopy, and his head lolls back and forth until he finally leans it against the rim of the tub with a groan and a grunt. 

You sigh as your heart clenches, and you kneel beside him, running the wet cloth over his arms first, scrubbing off the caked mud, blood, and whatever else he dragged on him from wherever he was. When you reach his hand, his fingers curl slightly, seeking your touch, trying to hold you and you give everything to stop your tears from falling. 

Gods, how you love this man. 

He slumbers for a bit as you clean most of the grime off, but when you reach his chest and your hands find the familiar scars, his eyes slowly open, watching you. You're frowning pretending not to notice him observing you, but you grumble something unintelligible when you find three new scars –badly healed– on his torso. 

“Where did you go…?” The question slips from your lips against your will in a quiet whisper. You're not even sure if he heard you or if he'll answer. 

“Behind enemy lines, tae the north.”

The cloth slips from your hand, and you fumble to secure it again, your mouth open as wide as your eyes. “Beyond the borders? Into enemy territory? Kid! You could’ve died!”

His smirk barely curves his lips, but it's there. “Would've been worth it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You growl, scrubbing harder and making him wince. 

“Ah, I've missed that filthy tongue, lass.” How can your heart warm at such words when you want nothing more than to yell at him for having left you? “I got what I went in for.” He dips his head back into the water, using his hands to try and comb through his matted hair. When he rises out of the water, his exhausted gaze falls on you, waiting for your questions. 

“What did you go in for?”

“Information. War information that’ll make the clans turn tae yer da’s side without ye havin’ tae marry.” A chill runs through you as you stare at him. Is he serious? Has he risked his life just to get you out of an arranged marriage? Does that mean… does he love you back? Are you more than just ‘fun’? 

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to make your tongue work past the dry, sand-like feeling in your mouth. “You still left me behind, without a word or a goodbye. Without a warning. I was alone!” The sigh that parts your lips is filled with sorrow and resignation. “We'll speak about this after you rest, you're in no condition to argue.”

He chuckles as you force him to lean forward –with a harder shove than you should– so you can clean his back. “Oh, but I've missed arguin’ with ye.” You purse your lips, drawing back an angry snarl that only makes him chuckle again. “Think about it. Would ye’ve let me leave if I told ya my plan?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, I would've left just the same, but ye would've tried tae stop me. Or worse, ye would've wanted tae go with me. It was better this way.”

“Better for whom? Because I was left thinking you'd abandoned me, right after I poured my heart out to you!”

Kid's face falls again. “Better than tae worry about me. If I died, at least ye could've forgotten me if ye hated me. It would've been a lot harder tae forget me if ye still cared.”

I still care. 

You think the words, but you don't say them. Instead, you hand him the cloth. “Finish up, Kid. I'll go grab you some clothes from your old room. It hasn't been touched.”

-*-

When you return he's clean and dry, a  towel wrapped around his waist, and you lower your gaze before you get lost in the body you know so well. Handing him the shirt and breeches, you return to your room, waiting for him with a tray of food and ale, so he eats and rests, because he looks like shit. 

He follows you wordlessly after getting dressed and eats the food ravenously, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he last ate. By the time he finishes, he looks ready to fall down again. You lead him to your bed, setting him down in the place he's slept more times than you can count, and securing the blankets around him. As Kid closes his eyes, you sigh, turning to leave, but his arm loops around your waist, and he drags you to bed, your back firmly against his chest, as he pulls you closer and drapes the covers over you too. 

“Kid…” You start to protest. He needs rest and you don't trust your heart enough to be this close to him and not break. He still hasn't told you how he truly feels. He said he missed your remarks and arguing with you, but he didn't say he missed you. 

“Stay.” His voice sounds hoarse and pained as he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your hair, inhaling your scent in deep breaths. 

You relax in his hold. It's not like you want to leave anyway. You've never felt safer than in Kid's arms, you're just not sure if you feel loved. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, lass.” The whisper of his words kisses the back of your neck in warm breaths, and your heart clenches. “I'm shite with words and feelings, ye know that… but… dinnae think for a minute that I left because I dinnae care. I left because I do care.”

He's still not saying it. 

“I know you care, Kid.” You sound weary and resigned. Perhaps you're asking too much. It's obvious he cares deeply, or he would've never gone to the lengths he did for you. 

“It's more than that.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice as he forces the words out. “I knew I could never fall for ye. I'm a guard, yer a noble lady. How could I… love ye if I'm no’ worthy? Yer da would hang me for ever touchin’ ye…” His chuckle is just a rumble against your back. “If he knew how much I've touched ye, my head would roll.”

You hold back a smirk. All your life you've defied your father and his rules. Kid would never be the exception. 

“But I've come tae realise that I cannae live without ye, nor do I want tae.” He sighs and rolls you, motioning for you to turn to him, so you do. Your cheeks are hot and flushed and your heart is hammering violently against your chest. His fiery eyes are droopy and tired, filled with so much exhaustion that is physically noticeable. But he needs to get his words out. His fingers tilt your chin so he can stare right into your eyes. “I've realised that if lovin’ ye is a risk, then I'm ready tae bet everythin’. And that's why I had tae go. Because I love ye.”

A ragged sob breaks through your defences and tears down the dam you've built to hold your tears in since Kid’s return. Tears spill from your eyes in fat droplets as Kid pulls you to his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, comforting you, cradling you. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. 

He's said it all. 

You spill all the tears you vowed not to cry when he left, all the pent-up emotions that you’d stored safely away in a dark corner of your heart come crashing down with the force of a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. And Kid holds you through it all. Your lifeline, your anchor, your everything. 

He doesn't utter any more words, and he's right, you know he's shit with feelings. But his actions have always spoken much louder than words. He holds you tightly, clearly fending off all the exhaustion in his weary bones just to comfort you. His lips press softly against the crown of your head, again and again, in an endless torrent of kisses, like he can't get enough of you. His hand rubs your back up and down in soothing motions as your heart explodes from all this love. It's overwhelming, overpowering and somehow, still not enough. 

Eventually, you pull back from him, tilting your head upwards and watching him through wet lashes. “Gods, Kid. I love you too. So much. So, so much.” The warmth in his gaze overpowers the tiredness as he lowers his face, mouth hovering just above yours. “Yer mine.” His words are a claim and he delivers them softly, like a man who is sure of what he's saying. 

“I'm yours.” 

With the softest of grunts you've ever heard him release, Kid takes your lips in his. You melt into him, this kiss insurmountably different from all the others you've shared. It's soft, steady, and tender. It's not filled with brimming, raging fire or fueled by desire. It's intimate and filled with promises. It's perfect. 

When you both pull back, he cups your cheek and rests his forehead against yours, eyes hooded as exhaustion finally overtakes him. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, Kid.” You don't really know if he asked you to stay the night or to stay forever, but it doesn't really matter when the answer to the question is the same, right? 

-*-

As dawn approaches, you leave Kid to rest in your bed as you get changed and ready. Then you gather the papers Kid brought with him, the valuable information about the war front and you grimace. The papers are bloodied and dirty, a testament to what he's been through, but they are readable. In fact, it serves the purpose best like this, so your father can understand what he's endured. 

You march into your father's quarters, and his guards have the gall to try to stop you from entering. “Either of you touch me, and you'll meet my wrath.” Your fiery reputation is well known in the keep and after exchanging glances, the guards step aside. With a deep breath, you burst into the war room where your father and his advisors are already gathered, though they seem to be discussing how juicy a piece of boar meat is, instead of actual war business. They startle at the noise of the door banging, and you stride towards your father with pursed lips and purposeful steps, daring anyone to stop you. 

Nobody does. 

“Here.” You shove the plate of meat aside –almost dropping it on the floor– and slam the papers in front of your father with a loud bang. “You'll be interested in these, Father.” You watch as he cleans his greasy fingers on his cloak and picks up the parchment, curiosity lighting his eyes. 

You have to suppress a grin when his eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise. “This… how? This information can change the war… it can bring us the support we need. This is vital.”

The advisors look at your father, then at you, also filled with curiosity. “Aye, Father. That information can sway the clans to your side and bring you the numbers you need to finish this. All without me having to marry.”

A triumphant smirk curls the corner of your lips as all the men gathered around the table begin talking with one another, discussing outcomes and probabilities, finally forgetting the food and actually delving into war business. Your father passes the bundle of papers to the advisor on his right and pins you with his stare.

“How did you get these?”

“Remember Eustass Kid?” You can’t help the way your voice softens at the mere mention of him.

“Aye, the sword I hired to protect you. The guard at the entrance reported that he returned yesterday. Was it him?” He seems incredulous. 

“Aye. He risked his neck for that.”

Your father scratches his chin, the weight of what Kid did hanging heavily on his shoulders. You’re pretty sure he’s already considering how much gold he can be parted with to compensate him. But you’re about to help him solve that problem.

“I will not marry the laird.” You state. You don’t ask, you simply inform your father of your decision because you know he cannot deny you that, not when he doesn’t need a marriage alliance anymore. 

“Fine. I barely know how I convinced you the first time. You’re free, lass, to do whatever you want.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, but you don’t let your nerves show. Not now, when you’re so close. “But I want to marry, Father. Just not him.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he returns his gaze to a paper that wandered back into his hand, looking as though he has more important matters to discuss than your marriage. And he does, and this reminds you of all the headaches you’ve brought upon him, all the troubles you’ve stirred up while growing up. You know you were not an easy daughter, but you know your father loves you, in his own way. 

“Who, then?” 

“Kid.”

He lifts his eyes from the parchment in front of him to stare you down again. “The hired sword? Not a laird?”

You nod. Your throat suddenly feels too tight to squeeze any words through. 

“Impossible. You’re noble, and he’s… not. I was willing to grant you a marriage of your choosing, but I thought you wanted someone of your standing.”

You knew this was coming, so you take a deep, calming breath. “What I want, Father, is someone who fights for me, someone who is willing to go behind enemy lines and risk his neck for me. Someone who loves me so much, that he’d burn down the world for me, if only I asked. He has proven his dedication to me –and to you– a hundred times over.”

“He’s just a mercenary” Your father’s voice rises, and the room stills. “You need a leader by your side! Someone who knows the people and how to lead, not just fight!”

You place your hands on your hips to hide the trembling in them. “I know the people well enough for the both of us. I love the people more than anyone in this room.” Your voice starts to rise with each word. “Gods, I’ve done more for the people and the land than any of you combined! For once, just for once, Father, let someone love me! I deserve to be happy, too!”

Your father stays silent for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down as his thick brows furrow in deep thought. His eyes scan the information laid before him again, as if weighing everything he has and what he’s willing to lose. 

“Very well. You can marry him, if that’s what you truly want.”

-*-

You barely make it past the hallway outside the war room before you feel a familiar prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Kid’s waiting for you. He looks better, more like himself, but there’s still weariness in his eyes and a sort of darkness in them that can only come from claiming someone else’s life –and gods know he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

“Lass, I knew ye’d be with yer da.” His gaze softens, however, when you meet. “Did he call the weddin’ off?” The hope in his voice mirrors the one that fills your heart.

“I’m still marrying.” 

“The fuck ye are! He lays one finger in yer direction, and he’s dead. I’ll fuckin’ kill him and his entire clan if I have tae! Fuck! I’ll just grab ye and we’ll run. I dinnae care where–”

“Kid!” You take one step towards him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his feelings. Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you look into his eyes with nothing but love. “You would really burn down the whole world for me, wouldn’t you?”

His hand brushes your cheek gently, a contrast to the beast of a man he is. “Just say the words, lass. I’ll do it.”

“I’m marrying you, you insufferable man. There’s only you.”

He lets out a string of curses in his thick brogue, and you barely understand a word, though you know they’re all directed at you. “Ye wanna kill me. I already knew ye wanted me dead, lass!” Then he weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls you closer, lowering his face until his lips hover over yours. “Damn brat.”

“I love you, Kid.”

“Aye. Me too. Ye’re mine, always.”

“And you’re mine.”

The smile on his lips mirrors your own as they touch again in that soft, gentle dance you’ve come to know as love. 

THE END

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @takamimami

[shirayuricky]

(oh you sound so busy 😓 and a month is so close omg may uni be take it easy with you, fighting!! i'll look foward to it then I'm sure it will be so good 🥹)

fluff but hard thoughts (???)

this one is REALLY long .. i'm sorry !!

well, it's so embarrassing and a bit weird / cringey actually but i thought about it out of sudden and can't get it off my head pls help (pleasee ignore this if u don't like it im so embarrassed so i apologize if u think it's too weird 😅

rlly ah why i thought abt it 🫠

this is abt gunwookie btw i love him smmm

for reference i wanted to add those pictures of him wearing that snorlax onesie but i don't know why i can't add images here

reader lives alone on her apartment so she's always spending her free time doing the things that makes her happy. she rlly enjoys having these self-healing times but still feels kinda lonely sometimes, that's when she ends up falling asleep cuddling her GIANT teddy bear she got on one of that big claw machines. only when she feels lonely, she tells herself. she is good on her own... but who is she lying to? she hugs that bear so tightly every single night, that's her best friend. she didn't got close to anybody at college and the routine is tough, that fluffy bear is the only one that always hear the feelings she holds deep down her heart and she feels comforted by that she even named him and takes it all around the house, when she's watching movies, cooking and baking or just being. one night she got so worked up after watching a romance movie with unexpected hot scenes that she just couldn't sleep thinking about it. suddenly she felt her body heat up while still holding tight to her bear cause she thought hugging him again would help her sleep faster even tho it didn't. instead, she started slowing grinding on it searching for some kind of relief. when she realized she was whimpering against the bear's soft cheeks and couldn't stop riding it so she started crying she felt so needy, sad and hopeless at the same time. she felt asleep bc of all the crying and her heart breaking she just wished her teddy bear could hug her back and take care of her.

deep in her sleep she felt a really soft touch, caressing her thighs, her waist and then hear face. she tought it was a dream, but when she felt a small kiss on her cheek she woke up to the sight of the prettiest guy she's ever seen and he was smiling so prettily and sweet but still he was a stranger, obviously she would scream. her high pitched scream almost broke the cute boy's heart. why was she screaming like this after telling him i love you every night. he was teary-eyed.

"WHO TF ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GOT IN MY ROOM YOU PERV?" she was freaking out, who wouldn't though? she was so disturbed by the vision of a unknown -tall as hell- man IN HER BED wearing fcking bear pajamas. who is tryna prank her?

he tilted his head to the side in confusion and said "it's me gunwookie"

she blinked like five times before widening her eyes and again asking herself if this is a prank, how could it be, no one knows about her shameful friendship with a teddy bear, so how could he knows the name of it? he must be a stalker.

"what are your intentions? why are you... stalking me? how do you know me?"

and he looked even more confused than her

"i just wanna take care of you, i love you so much too, it was you who brought me here and I'm so thankful that you treat me so well" he smiled again

something sparked on her brain and she looked around her room searching for the giant teddy bear until she noticed he was there anymore... it can't be...?

"wait... are you my wookie bear? what am i saying? that's impossible..."

he just nodded his head and smiled again

"are you for real??" and gunwook confirmed but seconds later his smile dropped

"why were you crying earlier? i got so worried" and he pouted sadly

oh so he is really my bear, she thought

"I was feeling too sad and lonely gunwookie :( that's why"

"is there something i can do to make you better?" he asked and she just jumped on him giving the biggest hug ever, she needed that

"just stay here with me please gunwookie"

"okay i won't go anywhere" and he hugged her back

after a moment he speaked up again "I'm so sorry"

"why are you saying that, wookie?"

"did i hurt you? you were near me doing those sounds and then you started crying, i don't really understand what happened.. it sounded like you were in pain.. did i do something wrong? please explain me and i promised i will apologize properly to you and repair any mistake"

oh this is gonna be a really long night

(oh 🍄 anon my tests for this week has ended and now i'm back to this. and i got your back! i found some pics of gunwook in a snorlax hoodie. if you're in anon, you can't share images, just links!)

so continuing on from where we left, you explained that you are not in pain, just desperate for pleasure. gunwook seems a bit clueless but when he gets what you're trying to mean, his cheeks blush in pink. he lets you take the lead, he doesn't want to hurt you. he just wanted you to feel satisfied in your sleep.

you ride his cock, bouncing up and down, as you interlocked both of your hands together with his hands. and his blush just gets more pink. he's getting flustered from the pleasure, sweet and soft moans spilling out of his lips.

after the both of you cummed, you tidied yourself up and gave gunwook a simple aftercare, solely made of cuddles. "sorry for that, i was just...needy." you apologised. "y/n, that's alright, at least you're...happy now." gunwook responded, wrapping his arms around you.

[kakushimiko]

VOX MACHINA IDEAS THAT I PROBABLY WON'T WRITE, LOG 03

(Perc’ildan soulmate Au, barely seen anything with the soulmate tag for these two, wth? My idea is the usual cliché drama where one of the soulmates hates the other until they realize how a good person their mate is and feel guilty for being so mean to them, but with only 12 perc'ildan soulmate fics on ao3 and nothing even close to my idea I guess I have to put this here for some peace of mind 😫)

Percy and Vax are soulmates, some time after the twins are taken to Sylgorn, Percy’s name appears on Vax’s body. Syldor organizes a visit to Whitestone, happy that his son finally is useful to strengthen his political influence.

Vax is not happy at all when is decided that he must stay in Whitestone, but at least manages to convince Syldor to let Vex stay too. To him Percy is just another entitled annoying rich boy who has never worked a day in his life, so he tries very hard to be as unpleasant as possible so the de Rolos don’t want to have him there and be their son’s future husband anymore.

Syldor gets feed up and decides that Vex is going back to Syngorn and if he wants to see his sister again he has to behave. The twins can’t stand for this, so they plan to run away. Percy, who accidentally eavesdrops on their plans, is hurt that his soulmate hates him that much, he admits that he messed up sometimes by being arrogant and a little entitled, but he’s genuinely been trying to be kind and welcoming to the twins. But if they don’t want to stay, he won’t force them, and knows that Syldor is not a good person, so they are better off going back to their mother.

The night of the escape, while trying to sneak out, Percy catches them, but leads them to a secret passage that will take them out of the castle, and even gives them some gold for the trip. Percy pretends to be nonchalant about them leaving, he’s always been good at hiding his emotions. Vax leaves feeling very confused about Percy’s actions and attitude.

Some years pass, with Vax and Vex growing up and maturing. Vax remembers his time in Whitestone and feels so embarrassed and bad about his own attitude at the time, about how the de Rolos were actually good people despite being nobles, and how Percy was really trying to get to know and understand him.

They decided to go back to Whitestone to make amends, but the news about the de Rolos passing away and how the new rulers are not good at all shocks them, and Vax is left with the guilt that his soulmate died thinking he never cared for him.

Two more years pass, meet the rest of the group, and create VM. They find Percy in that cell, but he doesn’t seem to remember the twins at all, and when they eventually see Percy’s scarred body, they see that Vax’s name is gone, erased by the scars.

Vax is so very sad and conflicted, having to travel with his soulmate that has changed from that arrogant nerdy boy into a brooding quiet man that doesn’t remember him, but will protect Percy and be at his side, so nothing can ever hurt him again. Vax slowly falls in love with Percy, but doesn’t dare to say anything because he feels that Percy deserves someone better than him after abandoning Percy when he needed him the most all those years ago.

Vex is also sad and frustrated for them, quietly watching how the guilt is destroying her brother, and denying the happiness they both deserve. She gives Vax an ultimatum, either Vax tells Percy they are soulmates or she will, because things can’t go on like this anymore.

Then the Briarwoods appear and everything goes to hell.

(I'm so sorry if I made your eyes bleed for how my syntax is all over the place, english is not my 1st language, as you can tell 😅)

[hungermakesmonsters]

Congratulations for the first 500!!! 🎇🎆🌞😎

I'd love something with Billy Russo. (With a Reader would be lovely, but he is fine alone too.) For reasons unknown I was reminded of Hulme's poetry. I hope that maybe this fragment inspires you.

That warmth’s the very stuff of poesy.

Oh, God, make small

The old star-eaten blanket of the sky,

That I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.

So, I wasn't familiar with that poem but after reading it, it gave me major angsty vibes (I'm so sorry if that's not what you were wanting/expecting). It wasn't the sort of angst that I could really attribute to any version of Billy I've written so this is a sad little stand alone thing. And I kind of strayed from my normal style for this one, so I hope you like it! 😅😅

Cold

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : PG 

Warnings : angst and suggestion of cheating (though in my head it probably wasn't more than kissing)

The night sky used to be a comfort.

As a child he'd look up and see all the stars in the sky and think about how big the universe must be and it made him feel less alone.

But now — now it was suffocating its vastness, empty, lonely. Smothering.

The stars no longer shine like fairy lights, instead they're pinpricks in the sky letting all the light and joy seep out.

The world is cold and destitute, it's empty and lonely.

And it has been since the day you left.

He's a broken man now, made of fractured pieces held together by nothing more than some sick cosmic joke. All because of you. All because he dared to love you in the only way he knew how. Poorly.

Your words still echo in his mind as he walks, a half burned down cigarette all but forgotten between his fingers; 'when will it be enough, Billy? When will you have enough?'

He didn't know then that he already had everything, that he had the whole world in his hands. So, he kept wanting, kept chasing more and more, not realising that you were slowly slipping from his grasp.

Warm moments became cold as the distance grew between you.

He thought you were pushing him out but, really, he was the one finding it harder and harder to close the distance between you.

Drink tells him to blame his childhood, his malformed understanding of love — he's broken, you should have known that from the start, and you shouldn't blame him for what happened because of it.

But, even in his stupor he isn't that selfish, that ignorant.

He doesn't want to admit it, but it was easy. Far easier than he ever would have imagined; drink and playful words whispered in the wrong ear, hands straying to places they shouldn't. It was an empty display that left him with nothing but regret and the knowledge that he was going to lose you.

He broke your trust.

He broke you.

The dying embers of the cigarette burn his fingers and he thinks that it's the only thing he's felt in weeks. The first sensation in his numb body since you'd slapped him, since you reached into his chest and tore out his heart with nothing but two little words. It's over.

The love was gone, just like that.

And for what?

He can't say. Even now, weeks later, he doesn't understand why.

Maybe it's some fault of his character, some defect he can't correct. Or maybe it was fear — fear of allowing himself the happiness that he found with you, fear of it being taken from him. He cut off the limb early and cauterised the wound before there was even an infection to stop.

He hurt himself then to save himself from agony later.

But, as he walks — stumbles, really — he knows that he was wrong, that it was too late. The infection had already spread. It was him all along, he was the infection, the rotting flesh that needed cutting away in order for you to be free.

He loved you.

He loves you.

His eyes flicker skywards again, hoping for something, some spark of the comfort he used to find there, something to see him over until he's with you again, until he wins you back.

Even the familiar streets mock him, taunt him with memories of you; huddled beneath a blue umbrella together in the rain, or you snuggled into your hat and scarf when it snowed. How many times did you walk these streets together? How many times has he taken this path to meet you?

The road seems longer alone, like he'll never reach you, never find his way back to you.

Billy knows that he shouldn't be there, that you don't want to see him or hear from him again — dozens of unanswered called and text messages are a testament to that — but he can't stop.

You're the only light he sees at the end of a very long tunnel.

The stairs to your door feel insurmountable, his lungs straining in his chest with every step.

How long has he been walking in the freezing cold, no coat, no jacket to protect him from the winter wind?

His hand trembles and aches as he grips the rail, closing the distance step by step. He has to see you — even if it is just one more time. He thinks that maybe he'll survive this if he gets that much; one last chance to see you, one last chance to say goodbye.

When he reaches your door, he thinks of the spare key in his pocket and ow it probably no longer fits the lock. He doesn't try it. Even in his desperation to see you, he knows that that wouldn't be fair.

So, he knocks.

And he waits.

And waits.

And when the door opens and he sees you again, he realises what he's lost and that the pain he feels will never go away.

"Billy?" You say.

And it just too much to hear your voice after so long without it. His legs buckle and he drops to his knees, and all the sobs he's held back for weeks claw their way to the surface, leaving him a broken mess in front of you.

"I'm sorry," he gasps out as his body shakes from the cold and the force of his sobs. "You were right about everything."

He doesn't know how long he stays there, how long he cries and apologises before you drop to your knees and gather him in your arms, letting him feel your warmth again.

[celeluwhenfics]

This morning I went on field research for writing

In my town there is an unheated outdoor swimming pool that is open year-round. Indeed, as @frodothefair said in her comment, winter bathing is a tradition in many Nordic countries: the place was packed!!!

Today the water was 6.7°C (or 44°F for you heathens) and the air was a misty 4°C (39°F).

So... I should definitely have gone there before writing the ice bathing scene in Cold hands, warm heart! But it wasn't my very first experience bathing in "fresh" conditions, although it was my coldest ever by a couple degrees at least. I'm happy to say that the experience mostly fit what I pictured as I was writing!

A few extra impressions:

Before and after bathing, the worst is the feet. Even scantily clad, the air is not that bad, if you've moved a bit before. But the FEET, in contact with cold water on the hard ground, are in pain. It would be excruciating in the snow! Next time I must bring water shoes.

It's really interesting to experience a culture where nudity is really no big deal! Everyone naked in the changing rooms, bare butts all around in the communal showers! My partner who is from a very private culture was shocked and amused. Like a Grimbold at the Aldburg swim hole! 😅🍑

The main way I could convince myself to jump in and stay in at first was to repeat "I am Éowyn, I am Éowyn, I am Éowyn!" Whatever works, I guess!

The main reaction of my body in the water and immediately out was not shivering, but hyperventilating and panting heavily. I had to work hard to calm my breathing! I was thinking of an ex of mine who was really into the Wim Hof method... But I'm not sure I would recommend it without medical supervision.

I was able to wade perhaps 20 meters, and after about 45 seconds I felt like I needed to get out. But as soon as I was wrapped in my towel, I felt much better, and I wanted to go back again. I went around the pool once more, maybe 30 meters, and this time was almost comfortable. Nonetheless I was glad for the warm shower waiting for me! But it was nowhere, NOWHERE as bad as I would have expected.

My partner was NOT able to stay that long in the water. He was in and out, and then he wanted to go back in because he saw me swim and his ego couldn't leave it at that. His second try was not much more successful. 🤭

This is something I've observed many times: guys are quick to go in, but can't stand it long, whereas women are more affected by the initial shock (it HURTS, okay), but then are able to stay for a good while longer. And this is why I wrote Éowyn taking her time and toughing it out, but surfer-bro Éomer jumping in and running out swearing!

To be fair, men tend to have less body fat than women. I'm indeed a little softer around the edges than my partner. When I was in Mexico, this earned me the nickname of "beluga" amongst marine biologists, because I cannot tan, and I could withstand frigid waters (frigid to them, we're talking 22°C/72°F).

Overall it was FUN! The feeling of euphoria is real! I'd definitely do it again, especially that it's a 2km run from where I live, which is perfect to get warmed up before and after. A new winter tradition for me!

Okay, I'm off to make hokshoklet!

Wintery divider by @quillofspirit

[moonliched]

Hello baby!

Kisses u on the forehead

How r u feeling? I just finished rereading your fic and damn i love it so much it's in my solid top 3 of mer fics and is keeping its 1st place proudly. I just melt into a happy puddle while reading it! And during a day my mind often drifts to think and theorise about your work! Also you are so cute and bubbly it only adds on to the whole vibe in the book. I loved little fun facts! They are adding so much character and perspective to the people and situations! Can we have some more?

Btw can we give you some ideas for plants and stuff?

Kisses!

can't wait to see more of your magic 🌸✨️

you n me, perchance (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

i am feeling like i need a long holiday! i hope your autumn is off to a good start🍁🍂

you have no idea how big of a complement this is aaaaaaaaa, i always wanted to make a fic likeable enough to reread xD you're so nice to me❤️

you can absolutely give me whatever ideas you'd like, i welcome the excuse to chat n make up cool fantasy stuff😊✨ thanks for the ask, i am absolutely squeezing you in a hug rn!!

i gotcha more fun There Are Many Benefits facts ;3

🪸 Sun and Moon coexist calmly and happily. they are very close and their bickering isn't in seriousness. so if you join in, at any moment they might exchange a glance and gleefully gang up on you at the drop of a hat

🪸 Meryn can see a deeper range of certain colours than the mers can, like the difference between the white of Sun's eyes and his paler pupils. so Sun thinks he's being sneaky when he looks at Meryn without moving his head, but obviously Meryn can tell that he's staring dead at them. they find it funny

🪸 after Meryn revealed in chapter 16 that they intend to build BON-BON a body, he promptly spent the rest of the night searching up cool robot images and brainstorming stuff to put in it. he 100% has not thought about the sheer work that's going to go into making just a regular body, nor the fact that Meryn would never ever trust him with rocket launchers

🪸 Sun and Moon are aware on some level that Humans Wear Clothes (though how they know this is a spoiler!) but they don't fully understand the minutiae of the when and the why humans keep covered. so, just enough to get flustered when they're removed lol

🪸 Meryn was considering getting piercings before their hand webbing was removed. now they have lost their taste for any permanent body modifications

🪸 BON-BON spies on the Glamrock team's meetings, but not as much as he used to. he gets bored easily and a lot of what they discuss references previous tasks and goals he also didn't really listen to when they were first brought up. as a result, he misses out on a lot of stuff that would make for juicy gossip-and-mystery-solving content to share with Meryn😅

🪸 Sun thinks that Meryn's 'nest' (bed) is tragically bare. it must be because they have no one to take care of them! he has plans to rectify that

🪸 Meryn typically responds with a one word 'okay' when they're agreeing without meaning it

🪸 BON-BON thinks the Glamrock team's apparent bleeding-heart stance on AI is just performative, and that if the time comes to ever put those beliefs into action they would fall back on reporting him as sentient

🪸 Vanessa only followed Meryn's example of using he/him pronouns for Sun when he spoke like a human, by mimicking her words

🪸 it's often obvious to Sun and Moon when Meryn doesn't understand something, and they find it amusing to call them on it, or let it play out if Meryn doesn't express their confusion. they think it's cute

🪸 As of chapter 16, Meryn is getting sick of Monty helping himself to their food and drink and has a plan to punish him for it >:3

🪸 BON-BON's enjoyment of shopping is more to do with the new experience of getting to express himself through his appearance than fashion itself. he's still learning what he likes and how he wants to present himself

🪸 Sun and Moon love making Meryn laugh, as they don't actually laugh or smile by themself often. but tbf all of their expressions are super interesting to the mers

[fatuismooches]

Hello smooches, i hope that you are doing well! I feel the same way about Capitano's hair bcs no way he can keep his hair long and gorgeous like that after so many war he have been through 😭 I believe he must have some secret hair care routine (or technique or whatever, i forgot what its called 😅) going on back there that we didn't know of. BUT, if his hair are natural like that, i'll be jealous 😭 (i have long wavy hair 😭) why he is so PERFECTTSHSHJSDHAKAHJSSHAK- (🥝.exe has stopped working-) Also, idk why but i feel like Capitano will be like this with reader when they are bathing together 👇 👀

I hope u have a wonderful day smooches and may ur finals be fruitful with perfect score 🙏🛐💞 -🥝

AHHHH I SAW THAT STORY ON TIKTOK TOO😭😭❤️ ahhh i love that... Capitano wouldn't cry or anything but he would just be. Floored. Because obviously he never bathed with anyone (besides maybe his soldiers lol, it was very awkward seeing how built their Lord Harbinger was compared to them 😭) so the experience of you washing him so tenderly is just... very new but amazing. He would be stiff af outwardly but inside so many thoughts are rushing through his head - how gentle your hands are while lathering him with soap and water, his locks being softly massaged and the products being worked in. He's never felt like this before. And you seem very happy taking care of him, even though he's not doing anything in return... perhaps this is what love is? (He tries to return the favor, which is very nice of him. His big hands are a big clumsy on your smaller body but! It's the effort that counts.)

Pantalone and Capitano need to drop their hair routine RIGHT NOW. We need it 😭

[in-amor-veritas]

may never make it out challenge

thanks to @grapehyasynth for the tag and sorry it took so long 💕

this is such an interesting prompt and I have a few of these stored away in my drafts but have one I know I’ll never finish bc it’s definitely not a happy ending. I started writing this in 2022 yikes.

This is way more than 5 paragraphs 😅

Someone is singing. Someone is singing in a language he doesn’t recognize at first until after a moment he realizes it must be Spanish, but not the Spanish he has heard in the royal court.

However the language itself isn’t what he’s fixated on, it’s how beautiful the voice is. So clear and rich and warm as though the sun itself has been personified in sound.

The voice fills him up, wraps around him like the sweetest, softest embrace. It pulls at something so deep inside of him that nearly brings tears to his eyes.

Prince Wilhelm jumps off of the white mare, eyes combing through the trees for the source of the sound. He leaves Kajsa to graze while moving in the direction of the song as it pulls at him.

It only takes a few moments once he’s stepped into the clearing, for his eyes to land on the one he’s been searching for. The Prince stops, transfixed, staring at them, the owner of the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard.

It’s a boy who looks to be about his age, he’s leaning back on his elbows, a leg crossed over at the knee. His head is tilted back as he basks in the sunlight that spills into the clearing. Wilhelm follows the line of his profile, his neck, to the deep opening of the loose white cotton tunic he is wearing. Wilhelm feels something strange twist inside of him as his eyes take in the visible expanse of tan skin.

His gaze finds the boy's face again, enraptured by the way his lips form words that become music and curl around him like some kind of magic spell. Captivated by the way the warm sunlight sparkles off of his thick brown curls.

He’s beautiful.

The thought frightens Wilhelm slightly, completely unprepared for it. It’s not the first time he’s found another man beautiful, but it’s the first time he’s wanted to—to do what he’s not sure.

His heart is racing and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s doing something he shouldn’t, seeing something that he shouldn’t. Quietly he takes a step back, intending to go back to his horse and leave when he steps down on a stick that makes a large crack under his riding boots.

The boy startles, straightening up and whipping around to look in his direction. When their eyes meet he sees how the boys widen in fear and how he hastily rises to his feet, which are without shoes, the way he pulls at his clothes to look more presentable.

“Your highness,” he says shakily, bowing his head, “forgive me…I was just…I lost track of time.”

There's a pretty accent that curls around his speech. Everything about him is pretty, for some reason he can’t quite look away.

“No…it’s okay. Please, it was I who startled you so. I just…I heard you singing and thought it was rather lovely to listen to…” he bites his tongue, feeling how his cheeks heat when he accidentally lets that slip.

The other lifts his head slightly at the words watching him through his wild hair. His brown eyes are curious but there is still an undercurrent of nerves that Wilhelm can read clearly in the tight lines of his body.

“There’s going to be a hunt here soon,” Wilhelm says after a moment of silence between them. The other boy looks like he doesn’t dare to so much as breathe much less move in his presence. “You probably shouldn’t let them find you here…”

Another flash of fear crosses his face and Wilhelm takes pity on him. “Oh I’m..please forgive me I know I shouldn’t be here but it’s just that the weather was so nice today…finally after it’s been so cold…”

He’s not allowed on the royal hunting grounds, no one is save for Wilhelm, his family, and their personal guests. Wilhelm knows the punishment could be harsh if he were to be found here. “I won’t say anything. I promise.” Wilhelm says in earnest, “But you should hurry otherwise they might—-“

As though voicing it had made it come to be they hear the royal bugle in the distance announcing the arrival of the hunting party.

The boy's eyes widen even further and he curses in another tongue eyes darting for some kind of shelter before landing back on Wilhelm himself.

In an incredibly rash and unthought-out manner, Wilhelm says the first thing that comes to mind. “Follow me, I have my horse, I’ll take you out to the edge of the wood.”

The boy stares at him for a moment as though in shock.

Honestly, he’s a little shocked at himself as well, but the other boy doesn’t have much of a choice.

“Yes. Thank you…” he says quickly, voice strained with uncertainty. With that, they both turn and run to where Wilhelm has left Kajsa. Wilhelm takes the reins and tugs his mare's head up before swinging into the saddle. The other boy looks up at him frozen.

“Hurry,” Wilhelm remarks, outstretching his hand for him to take and swing himself up behind. He’s not sure what the other is waiting for. Had he not made himself clear?

“I uh…I don’t know how…I’ve never actually ridden a horse before.” There’s an almost frightened kind of trepidation in the boy's voice and Wilhelm can see how his eyes focus on the hand that’s reaching for him.

“That’s okay.” He says softly despite his surprise, trying to ease his worries as best he can, “just take my hand and hold on tight. You won’t fall I promise.”

The boy is breathing quickly, out of breath from their sprint and from his nerves but finally, he nods and grasps Wilhelms outstretched hand, climbing awkwardly onto Kajsa’s back with help.

Once he’s sitting Wilhelm turns, twisting in the saddle to try and look back as best he can. He can feel how the other is shaking slightly. “It’s okay.” He says again and reaches for his arm, pulling it around his own waist. “Just hold onto me.”

The boy does so, but the pressure against his waist is almost feather-light as though he’s conscious of touching him.

Wilhelm kicks Kajsa into a gallop and he hears the boy make a surprised noise from behind him, Wilhelm grips at his wrist to keep him from losing his balance until he’s managed to wind the arms tighter around him. He feels him press his face into his back.

“Oh heaven, this is how I die isn’t it!”

Wilhelm lets out a loud laugh as they race through the trees, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“I am going to die! Oh god what-“ he screams into Wilhelm’s back as Kajsa jumps over a fallen log in their path. Wilhelm shouldn’t find it as funny as he does, but he’s never met someone so afraid of something as mundane as riding a horse of all things and it is rather amusing to see him lose his composure after being sure he was actually some sort of fae.

“You need not be frightened, I won’t let you fall!” He yells back laughing as he throws his head back in the wind. He’s always loved this, this sense of freedom, as they are actually flying, not even touching the ground.

The other boy gasps and Wilhelm feels how his fingers twist into the jacket he’s wearing. It does something funny in his stomach that he doesn’t quite understand but he pushes the thought away and focuses on the present. On the wind and the sound of his horses' hooves striking the forest floor, the sun on his face, and the feeling of the other boy pressed into his back, clinging to him.

It’s exhilarating. He's not quite sure which part he finds the most exciting.

They reach the edge of the forest quicker than he would have liked if he’s being honest and when he slows his horse down and finally stops he hears the boy behind him let out a shaky breath.

“I told you you wouldn’t die.” He teases slightly, “You can let go now you know…” Wilhelm laughs a bit in amusement.

The other does so, letting go slowly, shakily and Wilhelm hops off his mare to help him down.

He’s shaking like a newborn lamb, eyes wide and hair a complete mess from the wind. His pupils are blown and he looks almost as though he’s in a daze.

“Are you alright?” Wilhelm asks in concern pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, “You seem to be in shock.”

At the touch, the other boy seems to snap out of it and realize what he’s doing, where he is, and who he is with.

“I’m sorry your highness…”

“Wilhelm.”

“What?” The other boy stares at him.

“You can call me Wilhelm…if you want.” He’s questioning his own sanity now, he can practically hear his mother's disapproval at being so casual with someone she would look down on merely based on the station of his birth. But Wilhelm doesn’t often meet other boys his age, especially not ones that are so interesting. He isn’t quite sure why he feels so drawn to him, but it’s exciting to talk to someone who comes from somewhere so vastly different from himself.

The other boy raises an eyebrow, “Wilhelm?” He frowns a bit and looks around, “why?”

Wilhelm blinks at him. “Why? It’s my name”

The other stares and he swears he sees something like a smirk pull at his lips for a moment before he speaks again, “I’m aware of your name. But why do you want me to call you by it? Surely someone from my station shouldn’t be speaking to you so casually.”

Wilhelm runs a hand through his hair, settling to the back of his neck, “Ah…I just…well I thought maybe we could be friends?” He feels himself flush when he says the words out loud. He sounds pathetic, “I just mean. I don’t really have many friends here…I don’t often meet many other boys my age…, oh I sound rather pathetic don’t I?”

He hears the other laugh softly, try to correct himself, but sees how mirth and amusement shine through nonetheless. “I don’t think you’re pathetic…” he remarks, “but…I’m not really so sure how we would ever meet again. Since you’re…well you.”

Wilhelm grimaces a bit and looks down. Sometimes he forgets the title that looms behind him, hates how it sets such rigid rules for his life. “Ah…I suppose I didn’t..think of that.”

“Although…I work in the palace, you know. I run errands for the steward here and there, but I’m mostly working for the chaplain…” his voice trails off like he’s thinking twice about speaking. He bites his lip. “Thank you…for this.” He gestures to the horse and runs a hand through his windswept curls, “I should…go. Before they realize I’m missing…” he looks at Wilhelm and studies him, but instead of the nervous look his eyes held before Wilhelm can see they are curious and intrigued.

When he turns Wilhelm does something without thinking, he reaches out grabbing his wrist, “Wait”

The boy freezes, looks back and Wilhelm licks his lips nervously, “Ah…I don’t know your name.” He says in a rush of breathless nerves. It’s very odd that he feels so nervous just asking for something as simple as a name when this person works for the Crown, when he’s a servant in the palace and would have to do whatever he said anyway. It shouldn’t feel so strange to ask for something so fundamental.

An amused smile crosses his face, spreads in the way his eyes seem to brighten a bit and he laughs. The sound is soft and musical and Wilhelm has never met anyone with such a beautiful laugh. God everything about him is so pretty.

“It’s Simón.” He says, the sound of the name rich in the accent of his native tongue.

Wilhelm grins a bit, “Nice to meet you then Simón.”

Simón looks amused when he tries to replicate the sound of it in his mouth but doesn’t comment. After a moment he looks pointedly at the hand still wrapped around his wrist.

“Oh..” he lets go quickly, feeling himself flush in awkward embarrassment, “Sorry…yes you’re ah…free to go then?” What the hell is he even saying?

“Thank you for the allowance.” The boy smirks. Wilhelm is shocked by the realization that he’s teasing him and lets out a chuckle, taking a step back toward his horse and almost tripping over a stone. No one ever teases him, no ones ever dared.

Simón bites his lip and looks like he wants to laugh, but thankfully saves him the embarrassment and instead turns to go, still shamelessly barefoot in the grass. He looks over his shoulder and meets Wilhelms gaze with a grin before he disappears out of the tree line.

Wilhelm watches the spot where he had been only moments before, touches his chest to feel how his heart is racing. He doesn’t understand the feeling at all, the excitement, the way his nerves have seemed to come alive with a strange buzzing. It’s so odd and so out of place that he just tries to ignore it. Surely it is just some kind of leftover adrenaline from slipping out under the hunting party, surely it will fade soon.

Simón.

Going to tag @oatmilkovich @unfortunate17 🙏🙏🙏

[mrsshabana]

So I'm gonna try to keep this short lol, but with the tattoo thing I asked last time 😅...id love a story on it. Heres an idea I had and I'd love to see where you take it. So I'd imagine if its a girl he's never seen before but she knows about him buuut when meeting things don't go so great for her.... he ends up attacking her and has hes getting ready to kill her while having her pinned on the ground he notices the tattoo of him on his arm.. I really wanna see where you go with the rest in a full on story I'd love to read it!! Cause your writings are amazing and I love reading them.

𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒎

✧ CW: GN!reader x Gyutaro

✧ AN: So, this is hard because I'm trying to think of a way that someone could have a tattoo of Gyutaro (knowing of him, but having this be a first meeting) but still have it be canon. It's as if canon Gyutaro was thrown into the modern world. Let's just ignore the fine details and I can make this work. I pretty much ended up basing this version of Gyutaro on tumblr Gyutaro.

✧ WC: 707

How the hell did you manage to get into this situation? Most people would kill to be in your place, but this truly wasn't your intention. You hadn't planned on stumbling across the one guy you may have a tiny obsession over. But that's not all, did I mention he's also a demon with an unquenchable thirst for human blood? It should've made you think twice before crushing on him so hard.

But now you find yourself in a predicament, pinned against the cold, wet asphalt. With Gyutaro's body hovering above you, holding your arms down so you can't fight back.

It was all a coincidence really, he thought you looked tasty and he was feeling hungry so, why not?

He took you down easy enough. Hell, you weren't even putting up a fight! Just staring at him with those big doe eyes of yours. He leans in closer, ready to indulge in such an easy meal. Maybe he'll tear off your arm and enjoy the melody of your pained screams.

But as he leans in closer to your arm, ready to tear you apart, he sees a familiar face.

"Is that...? Me?!" He thinks to himself, "There's no way this lady has a tattoo of me."

He leans in even closer, closing his mouth and squinting his eyes. He scoffs and his lips curl in disgust.

"What's wrong with you?" he says coldly, sitting up but still straddling your waist so you can't get away.

"E-Excuse me?" you whimper. Not sure if you're overwhelmed by the fact that he was about to kill you or that you're so close to your crush.

"The fuck is wrong with you lady?!" He yells in annoyance, "You fuckin' got me tattooed on your skin?" He roughly grabs your arm and lifts it, showing you the tattoo as if you haven't seen it already.

"I um..." it takes you a moment to compose your words, too embarrassed by his harsh judgement. You don't want him to think ill of you. This isn't the first impression you wanted!

Taking a deep breath, you finally speak, "I did. I got a tattoo of you... because you're my favorite guy."

He sits there in silence, raising his brow quizzically.

"Tsk- What an utter disgrace you are. Ruining your perfect skin with something as unsightly as my face" he scoffs and releases your arm from his grasp, "pathetic."

His harsh words put you on the verge of tears. Maybe you were dumb for thinking he'd actually like it. You sit there, letting the weight of his judgment bear down on you. But then you realize, he doesn't hate the tattoo, he just hates himself.

"Gyutaro, that's not true at all!" You grab his wrist just as he was getting off of you, "I got this tattoo because I thought it was beautiful! Every time I see it I can't help but smile. It makes me happy, and there's nothing I rather look at every day for the rest of my life."

His eyes widen, and his lips close into a slight frown. Your words have really caught him off guard, no one has ever said such a thing to him. For a moment he questions if you really mean it. But you must if you went through the trouble of actually getting that tattoo.

Gyutaro's body moves on it's own as he leans forward and embraces you in a tight hug. He doesn't understand why, but when you said that to him it made him want to be closer to you. His heart skipped a beat and he felt as light as air.

It was a good feeling. Something he's never experienced before.

"Oh!" you gasp when he hugs you. You're just as surprised as he is by his actions, but of course it's something you welcome. Wrapping your arms around him, laying your cheek against his shoulder.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He doesn't know what comes after this, or what he should do. But he knows that he will ingrain your scent into his memory. Because he's never going to let go of the human that made him feel beautiful for the first time.

[fe-fictions]

I have an idea (although this may be an AU 😅); Byleth is pregnant, Felix is beyond happy and tries to help her when he can. He is extremely jelly his father is even more gentle and seems to know a thing or two (cuz you know, he had two kids xD), until Byleth confronts Felix and tells him that they are all a family

(So I did make it more fluffy than confrontational haha!!)

He was glad that his father was still present, and was thrilled when you revealed you were two months pregnant with your firstborn. Felix was overjoyed, even if his facial expressions rarely showed it. 

Despite that, you knew full well how absolutely thrilled he was. He’d wanted to be a father since before you were married, as it was a topic you discussed quite often. 

The only problem was that he didn’t feel like he was particularly good at it. The baby wasn’t even born yet but he had few ideas of how best he could help you, and worse yet, he was awkward and insecure about trying to find the best methods to care for his expecting wife.

His father, however, seemed utterly natural at it. Having sired two sons himself, Rodrigue was exceedingly capable at providing you with assistance and recommendations on how to make the pregnancy go smoothly. Felix would watch, jealous, as you tittered away happily with the head Fraldarius, enjoying his company more than himself.

Though to admit he was jealous of his father was simply out of the question. He would never do such an embarrassing thing. Rather he would seethe in the background, just as he was doing today.

The Archbishop was enjoying a rare moment of respite, taking a walk through the monastery gardens with her husband and father-in-law. It didn’t take long for the walk to become more of Felix following behind the two of you, glaring sharply and listening intently while you discussed the latest happenings of your pregnancy.

“I fear the swelling has already begun, Rodrigue.” You sounded so tired, which was somewhat upsetting to your husband. “It’s hard to keep focus in meetings when it feels as though my feet will burst from these slippers.”

“They’re not what you usually wear, are they?” His father replied, as gentle and introspective as always. “They seem to be a different pair than what I recall seeing the Archbishop in.”

“They are- Felix bought them for me recently to help with the discomfort.” You nodded back to your husband, flashing him a small smile. “But I fear I’ve outgrown them already; why must they be so uncomfortable?”

“I can assure you, though it may feel akin to your body growing exponentially, it’s simply the sensation that accompanies the mild swelling. Enclosed shoes tend to be restrictive, despite shoemakers’ best efforts to fashion comfortable slippers for those faced with your situation.”

“What would you recommend, then?” You asked, feeling Felix’s sharp glare somehow intensify on your back. He was embarrassed he made a mistake.

“I recall open-toed sandals were a favorite of Felix’s mother, aprticularly when she was carrying him. Glenn was a little gentler on her body, for whatever reason. But having some sturdy, open faced shoes like that should be a marked improvement.”

“Where do you think I can get-”

“I’ll take care of it,” Felix snapped, drawing both your attentions forward. He  flushed slightly, glancing away “I mean, you’re pregnant. You don’t need to go into town. I’ll get them for you, so just tell me what kind of shoes you want.”

“You know I’m not picky,” You started, until you recognized the angry glimmer all but begging you to help him out for a second.

You stifled a laugh. 

“I’ll think up some ideas for sandals, then.”

The rest of the walk was somewhat pleasant although you did share a knowing smile with your father-in-law, feeling Felix pouting behind you.

He was already overprotective, but he wasn’t sure what to think about his father jumping in and giving you some much needed advice.Mostly because he felt like it shouldn’t be coming from Rodrigue at all, but that it was knowledge he didn’t have any experience with at all. 

And he definitely hated that.

“If I may be candid, I’m afraid that’s not the only thing that’s been causing me discomfort.” You continued, earning Felix’s immediate attention.

“Of course, Byleth. I can assure you that there is nothing to be ashamed of, asking for assistance with your pregnancy. And I am certain it won’t be anything I haven’t dealt with, before.”

“All right, well…I have been dealing with some swelling and discomfort in my breasts, too.”

Felix nearly face planted into the path when you said that to his father.

Dear gods, you were telling his father that your breasts were-

“Not to worry. When she entered the second trimester with Glenn, we discovered that she had severe discomfort and pain for several days while we waited for the doctor to come to our home. Thankfully we were given plenty of helpful advice.”

“Father, please!” Felix cut in, all but throwing himself between his wife and guardian, his face alight with an agitated blush. “We can consult with a midwife- the last thing I want to hear is you giving my wife advice about her-”

“We don’t have to summon him and wait days for him to make it up the mountain, Felix.” You cut him off gently, not understanding what he was so upset about (because why would you?). “Please, Rodrigue, continue.”

“Very well,” He laughed, “There are a few surefire methods to easing your pain. I recall purchasing a number of braziers that did not have wiring or lace; the feel of them can cause discomfort at this stage of pregnancy. Something with cotton, or something more firm that can provide better support.”

“Excellent, that’s more than enough-”

“I would also recommend some more loose clothing; I’m certain Seteth would be glad to arrange for a new wardrobe for the expectant Archbishop. And if those things do not help enough, a cold compress rested on your chest will be quite effective- and, ironically, if the cold doesn’t help, a warm bath should be able to help instead!”

“That’s all excellent advice.” You beamed at him, looking far more relieved than before. Felix stared at you, in utter disbelief. “I wish I had written it down…but it shouldn’t be hard to remember.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Felix snapped, “But I think this conversation is over. Byleth, we should go.”

“Oh, but I wanted to ask him about my cervi-”

“We’re leaving!!”

He grabbed your wrist, tugging you away from Rodrigue and all but storming down the path, leaving the man in the dust.

Rodrigue watched after his flustered son with a fond smile; that boy could get so worked up over the smallest things, even all these years later.

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

You allowed him to pull you along for a few minutes, at least until you were halfway up the stairs and headed back to your bedroom.

“Felix?”

He didn’t answer, jaw clenched tight as he marched up the stairs.

“Felix, please slow down. My feet are…”

When you trailed off he paused, shoulders stiff as though he suddenly remembered the state of you. He turned around, checking you over and feeling a pang of guilt when he saw you were panting, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He stopped, kneeling in front of you. He took your foot in his hands, carefully slipping the shoe from your heel and tucking it into his pocket. You watched as he switched to the other foot, working methodically and very, very carefully so as not to press on your feet and hurt them further.

“Thank you,” Your whisper was met with a bashful nod.

“Let me carry you the rest of the way.” He lifted you to his chest, very gently so as not to risk harming you any further. The sigh of relief that escaped was quite involuntary, but it did make him feel a little better knowing he was helping.

He kicked the door shut behind him, lowering you onto the bed. He made sure you were comfortable before he relinquished his hold.

“Is there anything else you need? Are you feeling hungry, or tired?”

“A bit of both, but also…do you think you could get me a cold compress, like your father mentioned?””

Felix hesitated some, his lips drawn into a thin line. “You sure you want that?”

“It sounded promising. And my breasts are more uncomfortable after that walk…I must not have as supportive undergarments as I thought.”

“Y-yeah, well, it’s not like we can just take his word for it, I mean what does he know?”

“He raised two children, of which you are one.”

“That was over two decades ago! His information is outdated, at best. We can’t trust a thing he says! Just let me call a midwife in, and while we wait I can draw a warm bath for you.”

“Felix…what’s on your mind?” You leaned back into the pillows, eying your husband warily. He was clearly upset, as he had been since the garden walk.

His shoulders fell some, and he looked away, clearly indicating that he was indeed troubled.

“It’s nothing. I’m just…I’m just being stupid.”

“Well it’s not ‘nothing’ if you’re bothered by it.” You held out your hand, gesturing for him to come back to your side. “Tell me what you’re worried about.”

With a soft sigh, he returned to your side and took your hand, holding it awkwardly. He sank down onto the bedside, earning a squeeze of his fingers.

“Out with it.”

“I…didn’t like Father talking to you. A-about that stuff.”

“Why?” 

“Because it made me feel frustrated. Like I- like I should know those things! I’m the one who’s expecting a baby. I feel like it’s not his place to talk about things like that, especially not with you! If he really wanted to help, he could at least save us both embarrassment and just talk to me directly.”

You covered his hand with both of yours, smiling softly at your agitated little panther. “Felix…there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We are both  new to this. You’d think I would know how to remedy these things, since it’s happening in my body, you know?”

“That’s ridiculous- you’ve never been pregnant before, so how are you supposed to just know how to- …oh.”

He cut himself off when he caught your smile, just slightly more smug than usual. 

“You’re going to be a father for the first time. Nobody expects you to know everything, and I wouldn’t put that pressure on you, either. I don’t want you to get frustrated because you might be unsure. We’re learning together, Felix.”

“I…I suppose.” He huffed, “But…even you have to admit that asking my father about your breasts is incredibly odd.”

The laugh that escaped was bright, enhanced when he shot an embarrassed glare at you. “If it really bothers you, I can ask for a midwife’s help. But you’re going to have to let me consult with him when there isn’t one nearby.”

“Or you can just write down the questions and I’ll give them to him.”

“Or, you know…I can have a little time with my father-in-law and ask him questions directly.” You cupped his face in your hands when his frown deepened, drawing him into your sweet gaze. “But I will reserve more delicate questions for the midwife so you’re more comfortable. Is that reasonable?”

He tilted to kiss your palm, “That is reasonable.”

“Good. Now if you don’t mind, I could really use that cold compress because I’m incredibly sore.”

“Yeah.” He stood, planting a kiss on your forehead before letting you go. “I’ll be quick.”

“Thank you, my love.”

Felix would indeed make quick work to get the cold compress, which did wonders for your soreness. It did give Felix a reason to reach out to his father for a few more tips and tricks, and a bashful apology to his father for being so flustered when he was helpful.

At least, until you received the letter stating the midwife had been called to a sudden birth on the other side of the mountain and would likely be gone until right before your delivery…

Rodrigue being your temporary long-term consultant was a delightful surprise to you, though Felix had to work hard to suppress how mortified he felt. Luckily he was easy to placate; nothing plenty of kisses and letting him put his head in your lap and mope couldn’t fix.

[meowzfordayz]

you think you know love

Author’s Note: this started out as a drabble 😅, but Gojo Satoru is simply beyond what a drabble can encompass. 🖤 P.S. Socks tidbit was inspired by a convo between @sugurini and I. 🧦😉💞

you think you know love

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000

CW: traumatic references

~faqs~ 

You know I love you, right? he whispers, question pressed softly into the crook of your neck, hands splayed large and light on your waist. You know I love you?

And you think you do.

You think you know love when he wakes up before you, eyes staring infinite and blue on your sleeping form. The first color you see when consciousness registers; G’morning he murmurs, cool and awestruck, sheets swathed tight around your hips, sunlight caressing your earlobe. The last color you see as you fade into nothingness; G’night he chuckles, fondness in the thumb that brushes a stray strand of hair off your forehead. Your days have always ended with that chuckle. Ever since you let him in and quietly shut the door, not once has he scratched to be let out.

Why me? you’d asked. Because you chose me he’d shrugged Nobody really does that, y’know? I just, am. You almost apologize, the warning thickness in how he swallows his next thought redirecting your intent, opting instead to reach for his hand, cheerful gratitude in your step as you pull him into a soundless waltz. Your pasta’s definitely overcooking. And you can’t quite discern whether the goosebumps on your forearms are from the heat of his palms, clammy and clingy, or the winter cold of the kitchen tile, old and worn in and too beautiful to hide beneath a rug. Either way, you’re happy to choose him.

You think you know love in the way he smiles, so unabashed and adoring, without a trace of condescension. Fear barely lingering in the shadows that you long ago accepted. That you long ago welcomed. That you continue to listen to, whenever their fragile wholeness splinters. His cheeks your favorite shade of pink as you hook your pinky onto his, waiting for you to lift his wrist to your mouth, waiting to hear you say You’re so pretty. And when you do? His smile blossoms. Delicate would be incorrect. Divine would be an understatement. Undoubtedly yours is the sole definition of the curve of his lips, something hidden—something precious—in the rarity of its procurement. Not, mind you, a grin. A grin is for his cherished students, for unexpected sweets, for getting away with mischief. A grin is for giving others hell. But a smile? The smile kept safe in your invisible locket? The smile that’s touched every inch of your skin, that’s arrived on your doorstep at 3am, that’s proved your choice right time and time again?

You think you know love.

You think you know love as he teases you incessantly, tiny ball of socks in his hand—your socks—still toasty from the dryer. These actually fit on your feet?! he cackles I spent five whole minutes searching for the other one before I realized there was already two! When you halfheartedly grab for your socks, he simply clicks his tongue, smug glimmer shining through his glasses as he holds them high above his head. Show me your feet! I need to put them on you to believe it. You think you know love as he squats in front of you, watching you wobble as you present your left foot, then your right, to him, familiar fingers tugging your socks lopsidedly onto your feet. I must be dreaming! he gasps, upward gaze besotted and mirthful as he clutches your calves They fit! You think you know love when you inevitably lose your balance, his body promptly spreading out for you to ungracefully tumble onto. Wouldn’t catching me have been easier? you huff, his sharp elbow digging into your sternum. Hm, but not nearly as fun he smirks, breath warm against the back of your knee I don’t know about you, but I’m quite comfortable like this. You think you know love when you somehow fall asleep in your tangled position, too stubborn—too close—to unravel. His glasses? Crooked on the bridge of his nose, flecks of an endless sky greeting you when you eventually stir. Can you pleeease get up? he whines, simultaneously nuzzling into your thigh I’m gonna be so sore from napping like this. With a drowsy scowl, you retort Can I get up? You’re on top of me! How about can you get up?

You think you know love when he rubs the consequent knots out of your shoulders, not even demanding that you repay his favor. Although, of course, you do. I think I have a knot in my groin he groans, eyelashes batting innocently. Oh surrre you do you snort knowingly. My groin he pouts It hurts! If love is how well you know somebody, then he certainly knows you well.

You think you know love when he promises you Forever, returning to your bedside after countless months of too many unfinished mugs of tea and too much room and silence that drips from the frayed threads of moonlight onto your restless, weary eyelids. Forgiveness on permanent loan to him because you understand that Love isn’t shared between a man and a woman, but between all living things. Because you understand that choosing him doesn’t mean getting him.

You think you know love.

You know I love you, right? his question nudges gently at your throat, hands moving from your shirt to your face, cupping your jaw with the most tender of urgency. I think I do you confess I know I love you.

Gojo Satoru. Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one. Satoru. 

“Satoru.”

He nods, the faintest sadness rippling through the clarity of his universe, floating for your love, his own sunken to the bottom of his strength, his lonesome, his very best friend. Too deep to be your responsibility to drown for — to be your choice to make.

He wouldn’t survive your shattering, anyway.