#ily ro

[sunnie-angel]

Candy Necklaces

jason todd x gn!reader

ao3 link

summary: you and jason get matching necklaces

tags: implied smut

rating mature (mdni) | wc: 0.5k

Jason would love seeing his initial around your neck, but he would secretly love wearing the first letter of your name even more. The necklaces are an anniversary gift, the two of you picking them out together. The letter pendants are small, on a chain longe enough that it can easily be tucked out of the way and into clothing if needed. You don’t mention how he goes a little teary eyed as you fix the clasp around his neck, the way his arms come around your waist as he leans down to kiss you slowly. The next few weeks you keep catching him staring at your chest and the little J that rests there, a little catch in his breath every time the glint of gold catches his eye.

It becomes a habit for Jason to play with his necklace. Pinching the pendant between his thumb, running it back and forth on its chain. There’s a warm glow in his belly at this proof of affection. That he’s yours and you’re his. It never really goes away, that feeling. It’s why he hates taking it off so much.

The only time Jason ever takes off his necklace is for patrol. Just the thought of losing it, of having it get torn off during a fight, is enough to open up a yawning cavern in his chest. Every night that the Red Hood appears, Jason adds his necklace to yours for safe keeping. Likes seeing the two necklaces together around your throat, safe, and knowing that you’ll watch over this part of him until he comes home.

Jason gets a little obsessed with watching the necklace swing as he thrusts into you. He gets a little hypnotized by it, moving his hips and body to get it to swing in different ways. You have to gently tug on his pendant to bring him back to you, pull him into a kiss. He’d make it a habit to kiss you silly, then trail kisses down your neck. His favourite look for you is wearing nothing but his name around your neck and you deserve to know exactly how much he appreciates it. He loves mouthing at your metal J where it rests on your sternum, glued to your skin with the light sweat of exertion.

Nearly six months later, after an anniversary date for the night you met, you present Jason with a little white box. Inside are two matching T pendants, the same kind as your necklaces. You tell him, “I think my name looks lonely without a “Todd’ after it.”

It takes him three days and a comment from Tim to figure out that that was you proposing to him. Sends him running for his favourite (civilian) leather jacket and the inside breast pocket where he’s been carrying around a ring for months.

“Were you serious?”

“…You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that Jason.”

“About making your last name ‘Todd’.”

“Oh, always.”

“Then I’ve got a question to ask you properly.”

The two of you wear your matching jewelry to the wedding, the Ts added to them. And if Jason fucks you a little harder, a little sweeter, at the sight of a JT at the hollow of your throat and the ring on your finger, well, that’s for you to enjoy.

[rathockey]

[l3viat8an]

Diavolo: Happy birthday, Beelzebub and Belphegor! I can't believe you guys are so old already, I'm so proud of you both!

MC: Why are you wishing them happy birthday like you're their dad?

Diavolo:*shrugging* Someone has to.

[hum-suffer]

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. I think how his mother titled his chin up to see his smudged tilak.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. I think how his father taught him their ancestry and how his hands travelled in a path of molten sun rays— like gold.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How his Kekayi Maa taught him all about flowers and colours. How his Sumitra Maa taught him all the games she knew.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How his eyes welled up when he scraped his knee and how he hissed when his mother cleaned his wounds.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How he copied the way his father walked with the reverence of a child with rose coloured world.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How his Kekayi Maa danced with him on his birthday, their hair open and done in the same styles. How he sneakily sold his paintings to buy his Sumitra Maa a pair of studs for her birthday.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How he was suddenly the eldest. How his father passed the baton unto him and how scorching was the heat of responsibility of being the son of the Sun descendants.

I sometimes think about Ram. A child who outgrew the lap he found solace in. A man who only had memories for guidance.

[thatotherman001]

What did they mean by this?

[flyingspicerack]

hey @destielgaysex

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[zumicho]

ᡴꪫ MY BELOVED MUTUALS

@mitskicain # — lia !! ♡

@mollyrolls # — molly !! ♡, the barney to my ted <3

@nectardaddy # — dodger !! ♡, president of the ‘GET UP’ club

@sweetfushi # — zee !! ♡, the akaashi to my bokuto <3

@kuroppiii # — ro !! ♡, the patrick to my art <3

@sandwhitches # — mitch !! ♡, twin flame !!, the finn to my bmo !!

@causenessus # — ness !! ♡ , ness my tumblr soulmate <3

@yenonnoff # — yen !! ♡ , the sousuke to my rin <3

@guitarstringed-scars # — mo !! ♡

@cr4yolaas # — rye !! ♡

@kitasuno # — kimiko !! ♡

@meloinurmind # — melo !! ♡

@iiwaijime # — lina !! ♡

@miyamoratsumuu # — frans !! ♡

*added by interaction, not by follow, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

ᡴꪫ ANONS

☆, 🎲, 🇮🇩, 🎏

*send an ask to be added!

© ZUMICHO 2024 all rights reserved. please do not repost, edit, or translate my works on any platform.

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

Hello Beloved 💙💙

1 and/or 28 for the soft prompts if it sparks joy ✨️

The soft, sultry croon of Dizzy Gillespie’s trumpet filters through the kitchen, its gentle and heartrending notes caressing the floor and cabinets and every inch of Buck’s skin.

Buck hums along as best he can, letting the vibrations settle in his bones and sweep him away, the combination of sounds turning into a collection of sparkling orange and deep maroon and rose gold inside his chest, painting his flesh with the same feeling and colors of the setting sun, whose final touches spill through the window above the sink.

He never feels more settled or peaceful than when he is here in Eddie’s kitchen, preparing food for his boys and listening to the jazz playlist he reserves solely for cooking.

Buck isn't sure why, but the syncopated rhythms, husky timbres, sharp pitch changes, and the raspy voices of jazz artists like Dizzy Gillespie, Ella Fitzgerald, and Miles Davis, always heighten the cooking experience for him. The sounds of it rattle pleasantly through the room and his veins, grounding him and allowing him to focus solely on the task at hand.

He joins in with Gillespie’s crooning, softly singing, “Swing love, sweet cadillac, comin’ for to carry me home,” repeatedly under his breath as he brings the edge of the knife down swiftly, slicing through pieces of carrot, potatoe, bell peppers, and squash in a steady, soothing rhythm.

The music carries him through each movement, weaving into his muscles like vibrating threads that tug him from place to place, his hips swaying with the beat and feet gliding across the floor as he deposits the chopped vegetables into the chicken stock simmering on the stove.

A soft laugh breaks through the music, skittering through the air, reaching out for Buck like the winding tendrils of a plant’s roots or the final rays of sunshine that kiss the horizon. It’s a sound Buck cherishes, the dips and valleys of it tattooed on his heart, held dearly in the very center of him. A sound that at times was hard won, only breaking past gritted, bloody teeth when Buck reached inside and yanked it out, but now it falls easily from lips curved in the shape of love and fondness, spilling out freely and genuinely like pure, clear water from a spring.

Buck turns around, guided by the sound of that laugh and the thread that connects him to the person it comes from.

Eddie is leaning against the frame of the entryway, arms and legs crossed, his body angled in a slant that has no right being as hypnotizing as it is. The lines of him are long and lean and strong, his legs lengthened by his position and the breadth of his shoulders wide, pulling at the seams of his white t-shirt in a way that makes Buck’s mouth go dry. He’s had his hands and teeth and lips and tongue all over every inch of those legs and shoulders, but it’s never enough.

He’ll never get enough of Eddie for as long as he lives.

Eddie looks like he’s been there for a while, comfortably settled against the wooden frame, his eyes dark and hooded, a lazy smile stretched across his face.

Buck huffs and leans back against the counter, eyes narrowing at Eddie’s form. “How long have you been standing there?”

Eddie hums and shrugs, tilting his head to the side and resting it against the frame. The corner of his lips twitch and his bottom lip pokes out a little bit, tell-tale signs that he is fighting off a smirk. “Long enough.”

“Well, you could have come in and helped me,” Buck grumbles.

That laugh flows out of Eddie again, light and breathless, not weighed down by anger or hurt. He pushes himself off of the entryway’s frame and strides over to Buck. “Sorry, babe,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all, “I just love watching you like this.”

Buck levels Eddie with an unimpressed look as he slots himself along Buck’s side, hand landing hot and heavy on Buck’s hip, thumb automatically dipping beneath the edge of Buck’s hoodie to stroke over his skin. A shiver runs through him, tiny trembles sparking in his cells beneath Eddie’s touch and spreading along his entire nervous system.

Eddie grins, wild and pleased.

Buck nudges him in the chest with his elbow. “What exactly do you love watching? Me slaving away in your kitchen? Doing my very best to provide you and your son with a hearty meal after a long day? You got a housewife kink I need to know about, Eddie?”

A sharp pinch to his hip makes Buck jump and yelp.

Brown eyes shine with mirth, a glittering darkness that is more dazzling than the night sky, as Eddie laughs bright and loud. Buck smiles because Eddie’s joy is the sweetest thing he knows, but he still slaps at Eddie’s chest in admonition. Eddie catches his hand and holds it against his chest, flesh and bone fluttering beneath their hands as his laugh dies down.

“You’re such a little shit,” Eddie says, his nose scrunching the way it does when he’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Though, the thought of you in a little dress and dainty apron is rather compelling.”

“Mmm, yeah?” Buck steps in a little closer to Eddie wraps his arms around his shoulders, linking his hands together behind Eddie’s neck. “I’d look good in any dress, but definitely in a little one.”

Eddie’s hand slips from Buck’s hip to the small of his back, settling into the slight groove there with an intimate familiarity, his fingers curling into the fabric of Buck’s hoodie. Buck’s soul sighs in relief and sings with the first sparks of pleasure as Eddie presses against Buck’s back, exerting just enough force to pull Buck into Eddie until there’s only a few inches separating them.

“I don’t doubt it.” Eddie leans in and nudges Buck’s nose with his own, a sweet brush of skin, a kiss so serene and intimate that it makes Buck’s knees weak. “You look good in anything, baby.”

Buck slides his nose along Eddie’s then shifts his head until he’s nosing at Eddie’s cheek, giggling a little at the scratch of stubble. He kisses that beautiful curve and feels the slow smile that spreads across Eddie’s face, blooming underneath Buck’s lips like a flower coming to life on the first day of spring.

“You keep flattering me like that and I’ll go find the daintest, laciest apron I can find and wear nothing underneath. Really make those housewife dreams come true.”

Eddie huffs and shakes his head, dislodging Buck’s lips which were dragging across his cheek and jaw.

When Buck pulls away to look at Eddie, happiness is painted across his face bright and vivid, but there’s an edge of seriousness that makes Buck pause.

Eddie sighs softly and gives Buck a crooked smile. “Not housewife. But husband sounds pretty good.”

Buck’s breath hitches in his chest, the air that keeps him alive rattling around in between his heart and breastbone, fluttering around like hummingbird wings.

“W-what? Eddie, are you–”

“Not yet,” Eddie rushes to say. “But, would you–I mean, is that something you would be interested in?” A tiny grimace pulls at his face and even though awe is dripping through Buck like spiced honey, he can’t help but laugh and drop his head so that their foreheads are pressed together.

“Is that something I’m interested in?” Buck parrots back.

Eddie groans. “Shut up. I’m not great at this.”

“No, no,” Buck reassures, dropping a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs.

Eddie hums and pulls Buck into a deeper kiss, licking into Buck’s mouth quick enough to grab a taste, but not staying long. Buck whines into Eddie’s mouth as he pulls away, pushing his lip out in a small pout just to hear Eddie’s laugh, but also because he’s a little disappointed that the kiss didn’t last longer. Kissing Eddie is one of his top five favorite things to do and if he had his way, at least twenty-two hours of the day would be spent doing just that.

A sweet peck is placed upon Buck’s pouting lips as Eddie places both of his hands on Buck’s hips and moves them away from the counter, guiding them into a gentle swaying motion set to the slow rhythm of the music still playing in the background.

Buck tightens his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and shuffles along with him, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck as they dance through the kitchen.

“So that’s a yes?” Eddie asks quietly.

The sultry jazz music spilling from Buck’s phone has nothing on the lilting melody taking residence in his chest, something bright like the sun and sweet like honey and bubbly like champagne beating in his blood and marrow, all of it blending together to sing Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“Yes,” Buck murmurs against the skin of Eddie’s neck before planting a kiss there. “That is a yes to you eventually asking me to marry you.”

Eddie’s laugh is quiet this time. Buck doesn’t hear it but he feels it rumble through his own chest, a piece of Eddie’s joy sinking into him, and he hopes it weaves itself into his DNA, a part of Eddie forever held inside Buck, more beautiful than the music they are dancing to and more colorful than the sunlight bathing them in its warmth.

soft prompts

also on AO3

[littencloud9]

oooo ask game!!! how about “for the last time, no.” + knkdz? (if you want to ofc<3)

YAYY HI! i love them sm <33

-

“For the last time,” Kunikida groans, “no.”

Dazai sniffs, crossing his arms and looking away like a petulant child. His cane remains stranded on the floor. Kunikida cannot believe he’s in love with him. “You don’t love me anymore.”

He rolls his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Dazai, I don’t know how to tell you this…”

“Don’t break my heart any further!”

“…But I am not trading your physical therapy session for a million kisses. You still need to go.” Kunikida takes one of Dazai’s hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I promise I love you.”

Dazai’s face flushes and Kunikida grins, waiting for him to come up with a response. After a few seconds of faltering, Dazai huffs. “I guess I’ll go…”

“I’ll give you a million kisses if you do.”

“Really?” Dazai brightens, stepping closer. His eyes shine with mischief as he reaches out, putting his hands on Kunikida’s shoulders. “I might need some right now, or I won’t have enough energy to go.”

“Bullshit,” Kunikida snorts, but he cups Dazai’s cheek, admiring him for a second, before pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

[beyondthegame]

hiiii <3 what’s the most effective way to get the ros flustered? asking for my ocs hehehe 🤭 thank you!! i hope your day’s going well ily

If you casually wore one of Cypress’s old football shirts that has ‘de Vera’ on the back, they would definitely arch a brow and do a double take.

E gets a lot of compliments and ‘I love yous’ from random people because of their fame and career, but getting them from their lover is a next level feeling for them. Like, broad grin, butterflies in their stomach, and their heart is racing.

For someone who likes physical touch as much as L, it’s surprising what a hand on the thigh can do to them. Not even in a sexual way, just in a casual way would be enough for L to suck in a breath.

Kisses on the neck for Milan. They’re so sweet and intimate, and just different from kisses anywhere else so when Milan receives one from their best friend their mind does go ‘oh god’ because even though it’s wanted during the crushing stage, they never really expected that they’d up with the mc.

When you fancy someone/love someone and you’re thinking about or going to kiss them, and your gaze flits from their eyes to their lips? That’s the move that would undo N, especially during the crushing stage. It’s so simple yet it unravels them.

[tubapun]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVELY FRIEND ROS @joeyclaire EVERYONE WISH THEM A HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOWWWWWW!!

[buckymorelikefuckme]

oh my god i am SO READY for this holy shit

Sneak Peek 💜💚💜

frat boy! Ari Levinson x college student!Reader

At a party with your boyfriend when things aren't going well between you, your old classmate--the notorious jock and man-whore, Ari--catches you in a weak moment...

Warnings for drinking/partying but not much else in this bit. (That might be a terrible summary for this excerpt but I made there too much going on to explain succinctly. My bad.) WC 720

The compulsion to be kind and quiet continues as you follow him out, tucking your hands under your arms so Billy won’t try to hold your hand, but it doesn’t matter. He walks ahead of you a few feet to keep up with his friends on the walk down the road to the Kappa house.

The two-story, plantation-style home is packed to the gills, making it hard to maneuver farther in than the front door, and of course, the first person you recognize is a brother of the fraternity living there.

Ari Levinson stands halfway up the staircase overlooking the crowd like a king surveying his domain, hair grown long and a beard worthy of his fifth-year undergrad status. He’s wearing a button-up linen shirt as if he just walked in from the beach, perpetually sun-kissed skin glowing, the carefree blue fabric matching his eyes.

Asshole.

He probably showed up to his own damn house, cocked his head, and smirked.

“Y’all having a party?” he probably asked, chill as fuck.

Idiot…probably. You don’t know what happened to him after Women’s Studies two years ago, but you can’t imagine he got better. Nothing changes.

His queen-for-the-day leans into his ear, her top half covered only by a red bandana and not much below that hidden by a miniskirt.

What sluts. Both of them. They deserve each other.

He’s so sexy though.

His smile is bright while he doesn’t spill the contents of his red Solo cup on anyone below him on the stairs. Seems his drunk coordination has improved since your freshman year at the very least.

“Babe,” you hear yelled close to your ear, “take it!”

Billy shoves one of two cups he’s carrying into your hands and shouts for you to follow him. He wants to play beer pong in one of back rooms downstairs with no room to stand and watch. There are no chairs, but Billy asks if want to play with him. In no reality would he think you’d answer ‘yes’ in this chaos, but then again, he hasn’t noticed you won’t take a sip of the drink you didn’t see poured either.

You yell back that you’re going to find a seat somewhere. Billy gets pulled off for the next partnered game.

The only open spot that isn’t a squeeze beside couples going at it in public is a bench underneath the cutout of the staircase. You took a detour to dump your cup in crowded kitchen’s sink and sit alone for a while, people-watching, wondering vaguely about the king and queen above you on the steps.

Parties…are not all that fun when you don’t feel safe.

You’re not sure how much time passes before a light blue linen shirt invades your view.

“Thirsty?” Ari asks casually, offering the only cup he carries.

You wave it off with a ‘no, thank you’ even though that should be sketchier than your boyfriend getting you a drink.

Ari takes a huge gulp and shuffles his broad body onto the too-short edge of the bench beside you. He seems careful not to touch you or invade your space, the barest graze of a short-sleeve cuff brushing the skin of your upper arm.

Again, Ari tilts the cup toward you. “Jack and coke,” he shrugs, lifting his eyebrows, “mostly coke though. I’ve been here a while. You’re basically late.”

He wouldn’t drug himself with anything, you imagine, and worst case, Ari’s already much drunker than you.

You pluck the half-full Solo from his hand and take a small sip. He’s right about one thing; you can’t smell or taste any alcohol.

Ari smiles softly.

“Where’s what’s-his-face?” He scans the hall. “Probably getting you something better, huh?”

You can’t help but frown and sigh as Ari takes another swig of soda, his pink lips nearly hidden beneath the hair of his beard, but you remember they are quite plump.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” you throw back, and keep your guess silent. Perhaps knuckle deep in the toilet?

Ari contemplates for a moment. “Flying with the pigs,” he settles on.

“What?”

He repeats himself, and then, seeing your confusion, he leans closer to clarify, “she doesn’t exist. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Poor bandana girl. That’s a little harsh to be fobbed off so soon.

“So—”Ari elbows you gently “—how you been, smartie-pants?”

A/N: I cannot express to you the sheer amount of internal screaming I have done while writing this. He's...he's too...uhhhh my gawdddddd. He's too beautiful.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[lincolndjarin]

i didnt realize we hit 1500 until just now :,)

thank you all so much, ily ily ily, i love sharing my writing with you all and im so excited for whats to come. i dont have anything special planned as a milestone celebration so instead of that i will post a section of the din series ive been planning lol

me when its time to write another enemies to lovers slow burn forced proximity din djarin fic with religious undertones ^

just uhh for context btw im not gonna post many spoilers or other teasers for this but its important to the sneak peek that yall know that reader is a cyborg in this. a good chunk of the right side of her body has been replaced with robotics so yeah and din is a real dick about it lmao. enjoy !

⚙️

“I don’t travel with droids.” His voice reminds you of Boba’s when he wears that ridiculous helmet of his. Cold and hollow, more metal than man.

Boba sounds almost defensive of you when he speaks again. You can picture him leaning forward in his chair, the way he does when someone snaps at him. “She’s not a droid.”

“How much of it is even human?” You can’t help but flinch at that, no ones ever spoken about you in such a manner before. No one with a brain would disrespect someone like “Lord Fett” like that.

“She’s not an it.” Fennec speaks for the first time since all of this started, her voice is a hiss you’ve never been on the receiving end of before but you’ve heard her snarl at others before, slavers and other scum who come seeking a boon. You always wondered why such monsters would dare show their faces here, of course Boba dealt in criminal activity but never with people that foul. They often came seeking a Lord Fortuna, and were instead met with the barrel of Fennec’s rifle.

You can’t help but wonder if this “friend of Boba’s” is going to meet the same end. Both of them said they knew him well when he arrived but now they speak to him like the stranger that you know him as. A rude stranger.

The silence that follows is long, you can’t help but wonder if Fennec really did draw her weapon, before you can bring yourself to sneak a look around the corner you hear the all too familiar throat clearing noise that Boba makes before coming to a verdict.

“Look, either she watches the kid here, or she watches the kid with you. Either way she’s going to be involved, you just need to decide if you want to be there to keep an eye on her.” He always says everything with an air of finality, no wonder no one ever debates his decisions. The stranger barely has a chance to sigh before Boba continues. “No one trustworthy on Tatooine is going to take a babysitting gig for what you’re willing to pay.”

“I can’t afford anything more.” He’s furious. Even through the voice modulator you can hear that he’s trying not to lose his cool, but there’s an edge of desperation hiding under his anger.

“She’ll work for free. I’ll even cover her expenses.” You know Boba would do anything for you but this just seems like a bit much. He’s negotiating as if this man didn’t come to him asking for help.

“You want to get rid of her that badly?” Ouch. Rude and presumptuous.

“The last thing I want to do is lose her. That’s why I’m sending her with you.” You don’t doubt that. He’s proven to you enough how much you mean to him, even when he had no reason to.

“Sounds like you’ve made the decision for me.” Sounds like he made the decision for you as well. Has he even considered that you don’t want to go with him? Your desire to see the galaxy is fizzling out the more you think about having to travel with someone who doesn’t even see you as a person.

Another beat of that silence, dripping with tension before Boba takes control of the conversation once more. “She can’t stay here forever. I promised her she’d get to see someplace other than this dusty floating rock. They need me here. They need Fennec here. There aren’t many I would trust to do this but I know she’ll be safest with you. So take her or don’t, but you aren’t going to find anyone else to watch the kid for what you’re offering.”

“Find someone else.”

“There isn’t anyone else.” His patience is wearing thin. You know him well enough to know that he’s likely to snap soon. “You’re not the only one who’s trying to keep their family safe.” The authority in his tone reminds you of the exact reason no one ever argues with Boba.

Not even rude strangers who come bearing absurd demands and who claim to be friends.

“Fine.”

[prettyboyhowl]

Eddie art!!!

Here they are, MC's childhood best friend (and possibly ex depending on your choice).

Commissioned from @hellothereimaloser who did such an amazing job, thank you so much!!!

[cherrytraveller]

posting this here too to be a menace to @xinrouska's mental health at every front. save her (and the rest of my friends for that matter too).

[oathwilled]

a) bless @oathfcrged out here sending me straight up beef in my dms this morning, but also

b) the general physique here is a++ on point 👌