#more fluff today

[mistresslrigtar]

Chapter Fifteen: That's My Shirt (written for Zelinktines 24 day 15 prompt) It's a longer one today, but still under 1K 😬

Read below or HERE

As Link and Zelda are finishing breakfast a few days later, Grantéson stops by on the way to his stall with a letter from Hudson, requesting Link’s assistance once more with the skating rink. She doesn’t miss the light that comes to Link’s eyes at the prospect of trying out Hudson’s improved invention, and Zelda insists she can handle things around the house while he’s gone.

Unlike the last few times he’s left her to her own devices, she has every intention of clearing away the breakfast, tidying up the kitchen, and tackling the laundry that’s piled up. After he leaves she sits at the table a few moments longer sipping her cooling tea and gazing out at the hazy horizon, where the deep blue of the Akkala Ocean meets the pale blue of the clear sky. It’s beautiful here, peaceful and quiet, but also lonely, and Zelda has to wonder why Link chose this location. She’s never thought to ask until today and is glad for the company of their latest addition.

Speaking of the devil, as Kilton would say, and recalling how the diminutive man had seemed genuinely frightened of the fuzzy, white kitten, Zelda ducks her head beneath the table to find her licking her mouth. 

“Has Link been feeding you bacon under the table again, Celeste?”

The kitten’s answering ‘chirrup’ is followed by her pouncing on Zelda’s bare toes, before scrambling up her leg, attempting to claw her way onto Zelda’s lap. 

“Ouch, Celeste!” Zelda giggles, plucking the kitten from her shin before Celeste’s tiny claws can pierce her skin and sets her on her lap. Rubbing the kitten roughly behind the ears, as Zelda and Link have discovered she likes, Celeste squeezes her eyes shut and lifts her chin to give Zelda better access.

“He’ll be back later,” Zelda assures. “In the meantime, let’s wash the dirty clothes.”

Pushing her chair back, Zelda carries Celeste upstairs to her bedroom and drops the kitten on top of the garments in her hamper. She carries it to Link’s room to collect the clothes from the basket in the corner. When she opens the lid, her breath catches, seeing his original Champion’s tunic balled up on top. Even though she made him a new one, he hasn’t been able to part with this one, and still wears it on occasion.

Zelda shakes out the threadbare garment, that after a century and everyday wear and tear, has seen better days. The color has faded to a pastel blue and the darns in the elbows can be seen. Holding it to her nose, Zelda breathes in the essence of him, a fine mix of sweet grass, leather, and wood smoke, and closes her eyes recalling their recent kiss in the garden. It had opened a floodgate of feelings that had been as exhilarating as they had been overwhelming. She now finds herself longing to pick up where they left off but knows Link is right to take things slowly.

With a reluctant sigh, she tosses it on top of Celeste, who growls her displeasure before jumping out of the basket. Adding the rest of Link’s clothes, Zelda hauls the now full and cumbersome basket downstairs and outside to the well.

While Zelda retrieves the washtub and soap from beside the paddock where the horses doze, Celeste dives into the basket once more to burrow in the clothes. Dragging the tub across the lawn, Zelda fills it with water from the well, pulls Celeste from the pile, and sorts the clothes into light and dark piles. The kitten slows down the process by continually pouncing in the basket, pulling out garments, swatting at Zelda as she tries to retrieve items, and making her laugh. Eventually, Zelda triumphs over the little beast and finishes sorting. She begins washing the clothes, scrubbing, wringing, and hanging them on the line. 

Soon enough she becomes immersed in the work, humming and contemplating what she could make for dinner if she has the energy. She’s just hanging the last pair of trousers when she hears Link calling her name before he appears around the corner of the house. Zelda peers over the line she’s pulled down to pin the waistband and beams at the bewildered look on his face.

“Surprised?”

“Very.” He walks over and kisses her temple, and Zelda feels a pleasant flush warm her cheeks at his touch. “This must have taken you all day.”

“I enjoyed it, actually.” It felt good to be contributing more and not simply existing. “Celeste helped.”

Link grins and Zelda’s heart flip-flops in her chest at the sight. Since their brief discussion and adopting Celeste, he’s been in better spirits.

“Where is she?” He looks around the washtub and in the empty basket.

“I’m not sure, I lost track of time,” Zelda admits, becoming worried.

“She’ll come when it’s dinner. I’ll feed the horses and then we can go inside, okay?” He heads to the paddock, where Star and Epona whinny greetings. Epona nudges his shoulder, and Link fondly rubs her nose. Zelda follows after him to retrieve the fresh water bucket.

Link is pulling the oats bag down from a shelf when he looks down. “What the…” Trailing off, he leaves the bag and crouches down. “Zelda, that’s my shirt.”

“What?” Zelda moves to stand behind him and begins giggling when she sees Celeste curled up on top of the Champion’s tunic. “Oh my!”

Shaking his head, Link reaches out to scratch Celeste behind the ears. She cracks her eyes open and begins purring, tiny paws kneading the pale blue fabric beneath her. “I guess this is a sign I need to let that old shirt go.”

Zelda kneels behind him, draping her arms over his chest to rest her chin on his shoulder. Her heart swells when he leans into her embrace and covers her hands with one of his own.

[petricorah]

relax bro no one's taking him from you [id in alt]

lineart below cut

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

[amanitacurses]

[6okuto]

🧺 #24: "sitting together for a road trip" with kenma for @dira333 from my fruits basket ! :3

dira this is so good for a friends to lovers plot..

akaashi’s volunteered to drive for this next portion of the trip, so kuroo and bokuto are free to click through a dozen songs to sing along to. they’re loud, and sometimes wrong which earns a snort or remark from you and kenma behind them. but their spirits are high and no teasing keeps their attention for long– not with another catchy pre-chorus coming up.

kenma shoots you a sidelong glance. between your seats, there’s a blanket with a bag of snacks nestled in the middle. you feel his gaze and turn to look at him, and he says…something, but his friends are still singing, and you can’t quite hear.

you furrow your brows and he sighs (not forgetting to frown at the back of kuroo’s head as if it would deter him) before leaning in closer. you mirror his movement, and you’re close enough you could bump foreheads if you wanted.

“sorry.”

“for what?”

“...seriously?”

you quietly laugh. “it’s okay, this has been fun.”

“we haven’t even gotten to where we’re staying yet.”

“so?”

kenma blinks at you, looks between your smile and the three others ahead of you. “...okay. but if they get too loud, tell me and we can kick the back of their seats together.” and he smiles for maybe the third time since the karaoke session started when you laugh and agree.

and !! at some point he catches you watching him game, so you both lean over the blanket and snacks again so you can get a better view. but it gets a little uncomfortable, and you’re both shifting every few minutes to avoid bags of chips and a box of cereal from jabbing your side. so at the next rest stop, you switch places with the blanket and move to sit beside him instead—

“if that’s okay with you? or i can hold the snacks if you still wanna grab them.” you offer.

but kenma shakes his head and reassures you, “no, it’s okay, this is a lot easier anyway.”

and sitting next to each other is nothing out of the ordinary—you’ve done this plenty of times out of the confines of a van’s backseats. but it’s a few hours in and you’re getting sleepy, and you register too late (and barely at all) that the pillow you had against the window is no longer in reach, so your head falls the only other direction there is,

right onto kenma’s shoulder.

and despite being so so close to hitting a new high score after dozens of attempts, he can only be glad he had his earphones in so the others didn’t hear the “game over” that follows embarrassingly fast afterward.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

He dies if you don't pay attention to him, its a very urgent situation for an uncle to attend to.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[transmascaraa]

Idk how to write this but

Reader is so lost in being a people pleaser, they no longer defend themselves when being insulted

(like, someone saying "I wish you could just shut up and never speak again" to them seriously, and them clearly hurt, would still laugh as if what the person said was a joke etc)

🫶🫶

multiple characters headcannons!

you're a people-pleaser...

characters: lyney, gaming, tighnari x gn!reader

author's note: WHY ARE YOUR REQUESTS LITERALLY ME😭😭 i love them tho‼️ ENJOY READING<33 (random writing motivation smh)

☆ Lyney

-off-topic but the lucille font looks so beautiful with lyney's name

-ANYWAYS

-speaking from experience, people-pleasing sucks.

-and to overcome it, you need somebody's support, because you most likely won't be able to do it on your own.

-sometimes, it can only take a few kind words to break out of it.

-and he will be the one who will help you.

-since i hc him as a people-pleaser too, playing the role as the "big brother" to protect his siblings and please 'father' because he's occupied to do so,

-yes, he does genuinely care about his siblings, but he sometimes goes too far just to be sure.

-so, back to him helping you, he'll always remind you that you're your own person, that you're not alive to just please others.

-you don't owe them anything, so why do you do it?

-nonetheless he will give his all to praise you and remind you that you're perfect just the way you are, and that you shouldn't change for anyone except for yourself.

-sometimes, if you're about to make a choice you clearly don't want, he'll gladly choose for you and say that you're just indecisive.

-"you're hurting yourself for others, it's not good. you're you, unique."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✯ Gaming

-similar to lyney, except for the fact that he isn't a people-pleaser himself.

-you probably wouldn't even need to tell him anything, he'd realize it on his own.

-your every single day would be filled with millions of praises about how you're unique on your own.

-how you shouldn't listen to others.

-how you only live once.

-soon enough, you'd probably break down to him many times about it(like you probably would to anyone)

-and when you've listened to his praises and reminders enough, you'd slowly get better and better at actually being yourself.

-yes, of course it would take some time, of course it can't happen overnight, but he'll wait.

-he'll be patient with you.

-he won't rush you.

-all he cares about is that in the end, you'd finally put an end to it.

-and trust me, it would come sooner than expected.

-"you're nobody's toy or puppet for them to play with. you're your own person, [name]."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Tighnari

-get ready for the biggest mom ever.

-he would realize on his own, not like he wouldn't notice you choosing to work for the whole night rather than rest, especially because it was requested by someone you hate.

-AND IT WAS SOMETHING OPTIONAL.

-he's not dumb, he will notice.

-he'll literally call you to the living room for some "serious talk" one day and it would actually get you worried.

-then, he will start lecturing you about it and how bad it is for you and your health.

-you actually start feeling bad for him... he cares about you so much and everything while you aren't even happy yourself... you let others walk over you while you laugh at the pain.

-once he realizes that you started feeling bad, he'll apologize for coming off as rude or mean, even if you confront him that it's okay afterwards.

-he'll start reminding you about all the reasons why you shouldn't do it, but he won't rush you, he'll let you take your time.

-it may take you a but longer, but it will come eventually.

-every morning, he will put a new quote on the bathroom mirror just for you.

-quotes as in "live laugh love", "keep on going!", "you can do it!", "be yourself!", etc.

-"you don't live to please anyone, no matter how important they are. you're just fine on your own."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I LOVE THIS

writing motivation hits different fr

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT^^

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3

[imkazz]

mm my lil gen and gyo contribution to our latest episode

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

Genya kneeled outside his master's door.

"Himejima-san!" Genya placed his hands gently on his knees, sitting up straight. The door was slightly ajar as Genya peeked inside to see the man's huge back. "I was about to cook dinner, since all the slayers who were training here have left as of today. Did you want anything specific?"

The Stone Hashira sat silently in his room. Genya swallowed. Himejima-san wasn't answering! Had Genya done something to upset him? Was it that he couldn't move the boulder five-chou yet? He was getting there!

"Genya." The hashira's deep voice soothed Genya for only a second. "I will be going out tonight. If you could prepare something for me to bring..."

Phew. Genya hadn't done anything! He nodded. "Of course, Himejima-san!"

Genya could hear a faint "namu-namu" as he shut the shoji door.

The two of them stood right outside the humble Stone Estate. The area around them was surrounded in trees, and the cicadas had started chirping right as the sun was setting. Genya glanced upwards to see some clouds brewing, most likely some snow was coming later that night. He held out the bundle in his hand. "Himejima-san, some onigiri!"

"Thank you, child." Himejima-san accepted the package, which unsurprisingly looked much smaller in his hand then Genya's. "Train your aim with your gun."

With that, the huge man started lumbering off down the path. Genya's eyebrows pinched. Seriously, had he done something to upset Himejima-san? Was something bothering his master? Usually, whenever Himejima-san would tell him to train, he would always add on the little "until I come back". Why hadn't he added it this time?

Gyomei stopped walking. He could practically feel the poor boy's heart beating confusedly, the pulse in Genya's body rising as his thoughts ran wild. Of course, it was understandable. Gyomei could tell that he was acting strangely towards Genya, and that would make the boy nervous.

"Genya," Gyomei turned around, "could you give me a hug?"

It was the first time he'd asked that of Genya. Gyomei had told him to do many vigorous activities to grow stronger, but never something like what he had just asked of. From knowing Genya for the past two years, he never liked receiving anything. Only giving.

Gyomei could hear Genya's footsteps approaching as the teenager wrapped his arms around the huge man. With a smile, Gyomei shed some tears as he started hugging Genya back.

Oh, how he would love to keep the boy in the Stone Estate. Keep him safe, out of danger. In his heart, Gyomei knew that he couldn't do that, and that Genya would never allow himself to do that. He knew that Genya would jump to kill Kibutsuji Muzan, help his brother and avenge their family.

Gyomei tried his best to not squeeze Genya too hard. It was almost like the cuteness aggression he had with cats, but so much worse when it came to Genya. Instead, he opted to hold the teenager firmly in his grasp. As soon as Gyomei felt Genya moving, he let go.

"Himejima-san..." Gyomei felt his heart squeeze as the tenative calling, "is something happening?"

Gyomei tried to collect his thoughts. "Genya. I... suggest that you write some letters to your loved ones."

He could feel Genya's heart skip a beat.

"So... this is it?" Genya said with a final tone.

Gyomei nodded.

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

"Himejima-san... help... Tokitou-san... and... my brother."

[popponn]

a seat beside you. [isagi yoichi x reader]

notes: reader's gender unspecified, however mentioned to wear make up to cover up eyebags.

Isagi Yoichi doesn't really pay attention to many things that are not soccer. But, it was hard not to notice things about his seatmate. The one who was seated a few centimeters away from him every day—

You, the star student everyone relies on.

He knew that this was a way for his teachers to scold him to pay more attention to the class. Because if not so, then there was no reason to purposely put him—a student who is mediocre at most and forgetting assignments at worst—next to a perfect record of equally perfect scores like you. But, it wasn't as if it was a bad thing.

You helped Yoichi a lot by pointing at his textbook to where the teacher was explaining whenever he blanked out, explaining some parts on breaks when he asked, and even at some point you started to teasingly remind him about the homework through text.

All in all, you were very pleasant to have.

But, it truly was hard to not notice some things about you too as time went on.

Sometimes, your shoulder sagged and you had a faraway look on your face. At other times, your laugh comes out just a bit too stilted than usual. And just recently, the eyebags you hid under a tiddly applied makeup started to show up even more often.

At some point, to him, it became so easy to tell whenever you push yourself too much.

Yoichi was not quite sure he was close enough to ask you about things like this. He is just some classmate who happened to have his seat beside you and your number saved in his phone. He was also definitely not the best at reaching out to people effortlessly without any hint of awkwardness. Yoichi's anxious heart urged him to just stay silent—and it would not be wrong. He was simply not crossing the line of 'classmates' between the two of you.

But, it also felt wrong to do that.

You are a kind person. Yoichi didn't know many things about you, but you are indeed someone who helped him even when you didn't have to. You are also the only one who cared enough to ask him about his practice and how he was doing in class—it felt wrong to just ignore everything and watch you keep up the act in silence for whatever reason you might had.

That was why, during that Friday, Yoichi braved himself to ask you, his tone shushed, even as the class started to grow emptier.

"Hey, listen, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... are you okay? You look tired recently, so..."

And when he got a tired smile and a nervous laugh from you, let out through sagged shoulders and a long sigh with a hint of relief mixed in it, Yoichi felt so glad he chose to.

notes: isagi is an observant person, and there are some people who keep up the "mask" more than anyone else. but don't you think when you are in close proximity with someone every day, you can't really help but notice things about them? isagi is very soccer-headed, but he is kind and not an ungrateful person i think. this thing is a bit more mellow than my usual ones since the main feeling here is "ah, someone who keeps up a mask a lot of time contrasts isagi a lot. but if you think about it, isn't someone like isagi a good match for someone like that too in some degree?". also at the time when i wrote this, my feelings were a bit heavy, but in the end, i still enjoy writing even under such a feeling. I hope to come back to this idea again one day. in the tone of 'developing romance' and such, especially with isagi who seems to understand how it was to accommodate other people. i will think more about this premise again someday, it seems fun to explore more. all in all, think of it as another "more of a prologue meet cute" thing.

[eskir]

a birthday - vil x reader

it’s your day, and vil, as your lover, will seek you out and hopefully throw a birthday party for you if he can help it. he wants you to be happy, so he would’ve already asked what kind of party you’d want. would you like it to be a big one or a small one? simple or brimming to the edge with vibrant colors?

maybe a week, or half a month ago, he would’ve started planning. maybe he’s asked various questions over the years, or observed your reaction to the previous one, but either way he knows your preferences.

at the night, when it’s actually happening, he’ll be decked out in his dorm clothes. he would’ve brought the cake for you and set up the candles if you so wished. if you don’t like cake? then a tart, or whichever pastry or sweet treat you’d enjoy. contrary to the thoughts of others, he doesn’t have a diet for you. sure, he’d recommend healthier foods, but in the end he just wants you to be the best version of yourself, and that means being happy.

soft kisses as you take the first bite of the treat, most likely on your head or hands, congratulating you on your birthday. maybe he’d rub his face against yours, and from there you can see his efforts. he is sparkling, galaxy dust on his eyelids. and if you wished, he would’ve applied similar makeup on you, to make you the true star of the show. and even if he didn’t, he’d still rub your cheeks affectionately with his thumb.

to be honest, he’d also take that time to adjust your clothes, smoothing out wrinkles and giving you that smile again. and then the gathering continues.

he’ll have gifted you makeup supplies, if you use them, and skincare items. but don’t doubt for a moment that he wasn’t thinking about you when buying them. these products are selected with only you in mind and the expert eye that gil has honed over the years.

and at the end of the day, when it’s just you and him in your room, you two can cuddle and he’ll listen to all of your tales. maybe about how this was a great birthday or how it could be better, he’d still listen nevertheless. maybe you’ve never had a birthday party before that made you feel loved, or maybe it’s tales of what you wish for your future.

vil wants to be part of that future with you. but he’s content with the present, offering solace everyday. he tries to make your life beautiful, and so he’s glad that he was a part of your celebration. the small part of his heart also finds pride that he was a portion, however small, that made it enjoyable.

so you can sleep the night away with him if you want, and when dawn breaks? vil surprises you with a nutritious and delicious meal. and apart from all the usual skincare he gave to you as a gift?

he has another gift for you, held with those loving eyes and a soft grin.

and you could feel yourself practically falling back in love with him again.

[kiadanta]

Kia has decided to retire her winter wardrobe all over my everything

[leadandblood]

Coldboytober sketch #4 ^w^

My favourite Crozier/Little situation is where Ned is sleepy and cuddly and Crozier quietly accepts it and carries on doing whatever he was doing. Maybe pets Nedward's hair a little...

psst, i wrote a fic some time back. Not the exact same scenario but it is Nedzier cuddles

[queenofallimagines]

Meet cute~

Isagi x fem Reader

A/N: Morning to all the baddies✌🏿Nothing gets you in the mood to write than starting something brand new and not working on WIPs😘 based off a rly cute TikTok I saw I think isagi would be one of the ones to meet his S/O in a super cute way

CW: black reader but not rly focused on, bad grammar it’s like 4:45 am sorry,foreigner reader, was gunna sneak in like artist reader or something but the way it’s so ambiguous is cute, Bachira the pot stirrer, he also knows Spanish a little,U-20 captain isagi?? polyglot reader, She’s afro latino, Isagi falling in love at first sight. Let me know if I missed anything!

TAGLIST: @priv-rose

"Did you see the way shidou kicked rin?” Bachira could barely breathe as memories of today’s practice filled his mind— he looked over at isagi, who was shaking his head in faux disappointment, trying to hide a smile.

“Course i did, poor rin.” Isagi chuckled, running a hand through his hair. the striker was about to add onto his sentence but the feeling of someone bumping into him distracted him. he peered over his shoulder, a small smile on his face when he saw who it was. “mm… you good?”

Looking up at him with apologetic eyes she anxiously rushes out her words.

“Ah, im Sorry!”

“It's fine, it was an accident, it happens." Isagi smiled softly, and that smile would remain on his face even as he noticed her hair. his eyes lingered on it for a moment too long, taking in the way it was pushed out of her face, the colour of it.

“Nice hair."

“Huh?” He watches as she brings a hand up to her hair reflexively fidgeting with it. “oh uh thanks. I like yours too….”

“You do? thank you, it's nothing special." He smiled still staring down at her hair. he realized he was staring and cleared his throat. After a brief moment, he spoke. Trying to clear the awkwardness.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, where are you from?" He fumbles out awkwardly internally wincing at how nervous he sounded. But he was curious as to the way she spoke. her accent sounded familiar to him, almost foreign.

“I guess but it really suits you! Shapes your face really well. And, I mean… if you’re asking where I was before Japan I’m from America.”

“Oh you think so?" Isagi's cheeks had begun to turn red, he could feel the blood rushing to his face as he smiled sheepishly Rubbing the back of his neck.

‘America? He was right, he thought. She spoke differently.’

“Ahh, you're an American, yeah? Is that why you speak funny?" He teased playfully, smiling down at her. Watching her wince a little at his words and he immediately felt embarrassment wash over him. Saying she talked weird wasn’t really polite was it? He watches as she chuckles nervously at him.

“ah, kinda? America has a lot of different accents depending on region so I’m not sure which one takes precedence when I speak Japanese. Nodding his head in relief she didn't deny it, so isagi decided to continue with his questioning.

“Okay, but what region are you from? Are you from the South?" Tilting his head slightly, his eyebrow cocked, curiousity sparking in his eyes.He tries to hide his smile as he watches her face morph into shock. Her eyes were really pretty from where he was standing…

“That easy to tell huh?”

“Yeah." Isagi snickers, he continued. "The way you speak….it's different— a lot more laidback, but not like the Tokyo-y, or Osaka accents. The American accent isn't quite heavy, but not super light either. There's no way it’s something like Texas, Florida, or California, but I'd guess somewhere in the South, closer to the South-east. Am I right?" Looking at her expectantly he can’t help but get lost in her eyes.

“….. Spot on again. I moved from Texas but I was born and raised in the east coast so sometimes I’m New York sometimes I sound more like Houston or New Orleans. Depends on the words I’m saying and how fast I’m talking.” He was actually surprised that he'd managed to guess correctly not one, but twice! With the way the corners of his lips crept upwards, he didn't realize how much he liked talking to her. As the conversation continued, he found himself smiling.

“Wow, so you're just all over the place huh, like a rainbow?" His heart fluttered hearing her giggle reach his ears. It sounded so melodious.

“yep!” Humming in thought he shoots her a smirk. “It'd be interesting to hear how you speak, like if you were super angry or something." The black haired boy teased, not realizing the flirtatious implication it could have.

“I’ve been told I talk faster and with more force so probably New York. And then I speak Spanish too so definitely that.” At the mention of her being able to speak a third language, Isagi's eyes widened. He leaned closer his curiosity growing.

“You can speak Spanish?"

“Mhm. My family is Latin American so Spanish fluency runs through my family.”

Isagi's eyes twinkled with an undeniable sparkle of curiosity. he was definitely intrigued. He’s only heard some of the players on opposing teams he’d play curse at him in Spanish but never actual full on sentences. his lips curved upwards slightly. "Can you speak it right now? If you don't mind." He watches as her eyes far around for a second before letting his again. He felt a little bad for putting her on the spot like that but not bad enough to take it back.

“Oh uh sure. Uhh” She hums for a second before clearing her throat.

“Hola, isagi y bachira. Encantado de conoceros. Los dos sois muy guapos.”

(Hi, isagi and bachira. Nice to meet you both. You are both very handsome)

Isagi's eyes widened with amazement, a look of pure joy on his face. he clapped his hands together. “That's amazing! You speak it so well!" His face flushed at the compliment.

“You know what, I have a question for you." His grin grew into a bigger, brighter smile. Her way of speaking had a certain musical quality to it. He watched her closely all the while, his eyes taking her in, and listening to the way she spoke. She'd said something about them being handsome he thinks? He looked at Bachira who'd been witnessing the conversation the entire while, he noticed his friend's eyebrows raise slightly, and a small smile come onto his lips.

‘Did she just call us handsome?’ Bachira mouthed to him. He knows Bachira definitely isn’t fluent playing in Spain and spending time around Lavinho he must’ve picked up on some. He understands it better than he does English anyway. Feeling his heart racing he looks at her without missing a beat.

"Can I try something?" His gaze didn't waver from the way her lips curved at the sides, her smile being a mere testament of her good features.Quirking an eyebrow at him she looks at him confused for a second before cautiously replying.

“Okay?”

“Say my name." Isagi said, his words laced with a soft breath. Taking half a step closer he watched her lips closely, taking in how each syllable looked as it left her lips. He heard her breath hitch as those beautiful eyes widen looking up at him.

“Yo- I mean Isagi Yoichi.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the way she said his name. he'd told her to do so, he'd expected it, but the way she'd said his name had his heart beating out of his chest..

"Say Bachira." She chuckles smiling at him confused but obliging him anyway.

“Bachira.” Isagi's gaze remained fixated as he watched her lips form each syllable. He was enjoying this and his brain hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he was enjoying this.

“Say your own name." She smiles at him before speaking her own name. He can’t help the shiver that runs up his spine. The way the words flowed out of her mouth like honey, her tongue curling around every vowel. He would do anything to hear her talk forever if he could. The way her accent was almost hypnotic to his ears. It seemed even her name had no special effect on him.

“I have to tell you, your accent is so cute." He tilted his head slightly as he continued.

"One more thing." The stunned look on her face had him biting back a smile. That deer in headlights look was absolutely precious. It wasn’t until then did he notice the difference between them. The way she looked up at him made something inside him go absolutely wild.

“Oh. Uh thanks.”

“How about you say... isagi yoichi is an absolute cutie?" He teased playfully. He knew when saw her flustered face he had to tease her just a bit more. Like if he’s gunna try and shoot his shot he’s going to put himself at an advantage. Grinning, he was having so much fun, he forgot Bachira was watching the two of them carefully now. His eyes darting back and fourth between the two.

“Yoichi Isagi es precioso.”

The athlete felt his heart stop. He wasn't actually expecting her to do it! And so quickly without any hesitation. He was stunned into silence. His jaw had dropped and his cheeks were blazing bright. Bachira hadn't missed or misread what had just happened. He laughed quietly, a smile tugging at his lips.

‘Damn.. Did that really just happen? Talk about matching energy.’

She laughing seeing his flushed face. He looked like he was trying to find words but forgot how to speak at all.

“Uh,you ok?” Isagi who was was still blushing, lifted the corners of his mouth tilted upwards in embarrassment and joy. Bachira was just barely holding back a laugh. When he found his voice he finally managed to speak after a moment.

“Y-yes. I'm very okay." Isagi's voice was still laced with embarrassment, but he continued anyway. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?" His voice still laced with embarrassment, but there was genuine curiosity behind it now. He tries to steady his heart as he looks at her expectantly. He watches as she looks at him surprised stuttering out her words.

“W- I- no?? Like I don’t. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Isagi nodded, his mind reeling. This day was wild already, she was flirting with him, he was flirting with her– it was really something else. He couldn't deny that the idea of her not being taken was something that gave him the confidence to continue.

"You don't?" He asked again, this time a little slower just to hear her say it. His eyebrows rose, his cheeks were hot with embarrassment, his mind began to race. Deep blue eyes remained on her, he couldn't help staring. He didn't need any other confirmation other than this. he smiled softly, trying to hide just how happy her answer made him.

“Oh, So that means there's no one who'd come and beat me up if I asked you out?" He asked her jokingly, but his voice still remained soft.

“o-oh uh no that wouldn’t happen….” Smiling wider as he caught onto the fact that she'd blushed. She was too adorable, the way her eyes were looking at everything but him. Her hands nervously pulling at her shirt. That, and her soft, smooth voice was sending him into a state of bliss.. And he was starting to get carried away. His grin grew.

“Wellll... Can I ask you something then?"

“Y-yeah?” Shyly looking up at him he noticed the tips of her ears looking red.

“Would you like to go out with me?" He had put all his cards out on the table now and was waiting in anticipation as he asked her. He could hardly believe that he'd gotten to the point of asking her this. His heart was beating out of his chest and there was something happening in his stomach. It wasn't pleasant... The nerves were eating away at him.

“Mhm….i would.” Isagi felt his breath catch in his throat as she agreed. His cheeks were heated, his palms were sweaty, his fingers were trembling. He couldn't breathe. Everything about this felt surreal, there had to be a catch. But, no. It was really happening, he really just asked her out on a date and she agreed.

“Really?" He watches intently as she rocks on the heels of her feet looking away from him. “Mhm.”

His heart was still beating out of his chest. His whole body felt tingly as his cheeks grew hotter. Her answer had taken him by surprise, it'd been a lot easier than he thought it'd be to ask her. His eyes were drawn towards her lips, they were so cute and looked so soft…

Just before he could say anything though, Bachira coughed.

"Isagi?"

Jolting she glances over at him flushing in embarrassment forgetting he was there. She’d completely put all her focus on the boy flirting with her. Bachira looked more like an amused observer, his lips curled up into a small smile. Isagi was flustered to have been caught staring, he snapped out of his thoughts to glance over at him. He felt his face grow even more hot.

“W-what?"

He felt a wave of embarrassment slack him in the face as his friend’s laughter rang out. he'd been enjoying watching what was going on behind the scenes. Bachira's teasing was usually directed towards Isagi, who was easy to tease. So, seeing him be the one getting teased for once and being affected this much by was entertaining.

"You're all red, man.." Bachira teased, the corners of his lips remained curled upwards.He whips his head around to hear the girl snickering at him, hand over her mouth.

“Shut up." Isagi tried his best to sound annoyed, but his voice came out sounding flustered. He was very flustered, he was still red like a tomato. His mind couldn't seem to come up with anything else.. The only thing his body was focused on was her. Her pretty face, her soft voice, her sweet smile, her laugh…. Flinching he felt her grab his hand and he froze.

“Here.”

His heart skipped a beat as she grabbed his hand and held it firmly. He couldn't help, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. Was she really holding his hand? Her touch was so soft... her grip was gentle, yet firm.. He found himself trying not to close his eyes in that brief moment. She steps closer to him turning to hold her hand in front of him. He was hoping she couldn’t feel his heart beating out of his chest as her back pressed up against his chest. He feels frozen where he stands as she writes her name and number across his wrist.

“How about you can decide after you win your next game yeah? I’ll be watching so don’t disappoint me.”

His eyes remained on her as she wrote her number down on his wrist, their thumbs grazing together and sliding together for a brief moment. The feel of her grip on his wrist had Isagi's body tingling and his mind racing. He was taken aback by her gesture, but his mind was only focused on one thing right now. She wanted to watch him? She'd be there... watching him? Isagi couldn't help, he grinned, his pulse was rising. Once she finished she moved away from him letting his wrist fall. Capping the pen she held she tapped the end on his nose smiling at him.

“Don’t disappoint me now pretty.” Isagi was startled by her words. For the first time in his life, he was called pretty. His cheeks went red and that one word alone caused his entire world to stop moving around him, he felt so warm.

“I don't plan on it. You'll see, I'll be impressive." He said, his tone was much more confident than he'd meant to sound. She rolled her eyes at him letting a huff leave her lips.

“I’ll definitely hold you to that Mr egoist.”

“Oh?" Smirking he was aware that she was teasing him.He chuckled as it was his turn. “You have no idea..I'm gonna do my damn best to go all out in the game and win." He was already confident. His ego was growing, but he didn't mind that. He had every right to be confident with the skills that he had. His cocky smile remained on his lips.

“I expect to see you there?" He watches as she swallows hard looking up at him. She felt her face heat up at the look of determination in his eyes.

“y-yeah definitely. I’ll keep my eyes on you the whole time….”

Now isagi could feel the adrenaline running through veins. This was all so new to him, the way she was acting so flirty, the way her eyes were on him and her cheeks were flushed just by his look.. The way she was talking right now was making his whole world spin again. Smiling he was enjoying the feel of all those butterflies. He let go of her hand finally and he looked away for a second.

“Okay, then. I guess I'll see you there." He finally said as he turned to leave. Clutching his jacket in hopes to stop his heard from beating so loudly in his ears. He was on cloud 9 and he couldn’t even process this moment being real.

“Yeah… bye yoichi. See you there.” Isagi waved at her, turning to exit. He felt her eyes still lingering on him as he went. His mind was filled with so many thoughts right now. He couldn't believe that he'd done that, he couldn't believe that it had happened... But, it did happen. He had got a date. He had a date with the prettiest girl he'd ever met. That didn't seem real, and he couldn't be happier about it. As he left the gym, Bachira was waiting for him with a smug look on his face.

“You got a date?" Bachira asked, watching him as he approached. Isagi's cheeks were glowing bright red, his grin was infectious. "Shut-up." Isagi snapped back, clearly feeling flustered still. His hands were trembling ever so slightly and he was aware that it was all over his facial expressiosn. He attempted to hide his emotions but to no avail, he was just too excited for his own good.

“Awwwww Come on, you can't lie! I can see it all over you, your face is bright red and your lips got this dumb grin on em. You're down bad when you're flustered, and the way she was looking at you? Yeah, you got a date." Bachira said excitedly as he watched his friend trying his best to hide his emotions.

“Shut. up." He said, a hint of frustration in his voice. Isagi didn't want to acknowledge that his friend was right, but he had a point. He was right. Isagi could still feel her hand on his wrist. He felt like he could still feel her breath on his skin. His cheeks were red, his hands were shaking. All because this damn date.

[gilded-gheists]

My feelings towards ao3 this morning.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

*busts through door* IT'S WHOLESOME WEDNESDAY AND I'M BRINGING THE FLUFF!!!! 💥💥💥 NO ONE IN THE UNIVERSE CAN STOP MEEEE, MWAH HAHAHAHAHA!!!!

DADNIC DOODLES!!!!!!!!! FEAT. BABY-FIED TAILS!! 💙💛

sleepy babyyy

HE WANTS UPPIIIIIEEEEESSSSSSS

he got uppies 🥰🥰🥰