#needed something wholesome for myself so here it is

[ivyithink]

Danes and their Saxons, Saxons and their Danes, you get me

also please look at this sketch, aethelflaed’s silly little mug keeps cracking me up

[chelleisamazing]

I just finished reading the 'God Save the Blessed American President Mom' fic and I sobbed hard through it all..

[wordsofwhimsy]

❀ꗥ～𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ～ꗥ❀

❀ꗥ～ Viltrumite!Mark Edition!～ꗥ❀

Pairing: Viltrumite!Mark Grayson x Southern Belle!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, wholesome with a side of unhinged, Mark is confused and in love

Word Count: 1,793

Synopsis: He came to Earth to conquer, but all that went out the window when you strolled by in a sundress with a parasol, ready to tend to all his wounds. He’s never known softness like this, and by the time the tea hits his tongue, it’s already over. He’d give you the whole galaxy just to hear you call him “sugar” again.

a/n: saw this ask and just couldn’t stop myself – got to work like my mf life depended on it

you can start reading the main series ❀ꗥ～Here! ～ꗥ❀

Mark wasn’t sure what had brought him here—this quiet patch of countryside far removed from the chaos he’d just caused. The land was untouched, still, and so at odds with the life he had come to know. He just needed a moment to breathe, to step away from the endless battle, even if only for a brief second.

Leaning against an old oak tree, his body aching from the brutal fighting, Mark closed his eyes, letting the weight of his Viltrumite nature settle over him. The mission was always the same, the purpose always clear. Yet, as he sat in this strange silence, something gnawed at him, a feeling he couldn’t name.

That’s when he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching, the rhythmic tap of shoes on the dirt road.

You weren’t expecting to see anyone—much less someone like him. But there he was, a tall figure in torn clothes, looking as though he’d been through hell. Bloodstains marked his chest and arms, dirt smudged across his face.

You blinked in shock. "Oh my stars!" you cried, immediately dropping your parasol in the dirt as you rushed over. "Sweetheart, are you alright?!"

You knelt beside him without a second thought, your fingers gently grazing his face as you checked for injuries. The coolness of your touch felt almost foreign to Mark as he stiffened under your hands. His entire body locked up in surprise, but you didn’t seem to notice. You were too busy worrying about him, your face twisted in concern.

His heart skipped, a strange fluttering sensation pulsing through his chest. No one had ever touched him like this—so soft, so gentle. For a moment, he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with the unexpected feeling.

"Lord have mercy, look at you," you muttered, brushing the dirt from his face. "You’re hurt somethin’ fierce. What in tarnation happened? You been in some kind of scuffle with a whole stampede?"

You continued to check over him, your fingers tracing over his arms and chest as you sought out any serious injuries. Mark winced as you brushed over a gash on his side, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he found himself frozen in place, letting you care for him as if that’s how it was always supposed to be.

"Sugar," you tutted softly, brow furrowed. "You’re more tore up than a sack of potatoes after a long fall." You let out a little sigh, your voice full of maternal warmth. "I reckon you’ve been through the wringer, haven’t you?"

He was having a hard time keeping his mind focused. Why wasn’t he pulling away? Why wasn’t he using his strength to get out of this strange situation?

You gently pressed against his ribs, checking for any broken bones. "My word," you muttered, shaking your head as you gently pressed on his shoulder. "You ain’t gonna be able to walk around here like this. Not with all these bumps and bruises."

Mark’s chest tightened with each word, and a strange pull in his stomach had him looking at you in stunned silence. His Viltrumite instincts told him to stay guarded, but your presence was doing something to him, something his body wasn’t used to. Something good.

"Can you walk, darlin’?" you asked, your voice full of concern but with a gentle command. You reached up, your hand resting on his arm, and he found himself standing with little resistance. "Come on now, we’re gonna get you outta here. I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but I reckon you need some rest—and a tall glass of sweet tea."

Mark’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice, at the way you just… guided him. He didn’t even think twice about following your lead. Every step felt like it was the one he was meant to take.

You didn’t question him. You didn’t need to know his past or where he came from. All you cared about was that he was hurt, and you were going to take care of him. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Mark didn’t resist. He didn’t fight. He just let you lead him forward.

"Now, don’t you worry none," you said softly as you guided him along, your hand steady on his side. "I’m gonna get you patched up proper. And once I do, we’ll have us some tea, and I’ll make sure you’re feelin’ better than a cat in a sunbeam."

Mark still couldn’t understand it, the pull of your kindness. But as he followed you to your house, feeling the warmth of your touch and hearing the calm reassurance in your voice, he realized something.

For the first time in his life, he wasn’t thinking about fighting. He wasn’t thinking about conquering. He was simply thinking about being here, with you, in this moment, and feeling… peace.

You brought him inside like you were wrangling a lost lamb, gentle but firm, guiding him through the doorway of your little white farmhouse with the chipping paint and creaky screen door. The inside was warm and golden from the afternoon sun, the faint smell of lemon and lavender drifting through the air.

You sat him down carefully on a cushioned bench in your kitchen, one hand on his shoulder to steady him, the other already rummaging through an old tin first-aid box.

“Alright, sug, now you just sit tight. I’m gonna patch you up, and you better not go faintin’ on me,” you said, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze. “You bleed on my floors, and I’m liable to fuss.”

Mark just blinked at you, stunned into silence, the faintest crease of confusion between his brows like he’d landed on an alien planet. His muscles were still tensed, but he didn’t move—just watched you like you were some kind of celestial being.

You knelt down between his knees and got to work, gently dabbing at a cut on his arm.

“Now hold still, darlin’. This might sting a smidge,” you warned before applying the antiseptic. He didn’t even flinch—Viltrumite pain tolerance and all—but you still blew on it afterward, murmuring, “There now, all better,” like you’d just fixed up a scraped knee.

Then came the side wound. You pulled his shirt up carefully, your fingers grazing over the bruises blooming across his ribs. “Heavens to Betsy, it’s like you tried to wrestle a tornado and lost,” you muttered, lips pursed. “Who did this to you, sugarplum? ’Cause I’m fixin’ to give them a piece of my mind.”

Mark didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He was too busy short-circuiting at the pet names and the way your voice wrapped around him like warm honey. Every touch made his skin hum. Every little murmur made something unfamiliar twist in his gut. He was supposed to be hardened. Cold. Focused. But your gentle fussin’ had him feeling like he was melting from the inside out.

After you’d finished bandaging him, you stood, brushed your hands off on your apron, and nodded toward the stove. “Alright now, sit yourself up proper. I’m gonna fix you a plate. You look like you haven’t eaten since the cows came home.”

He watched you move around the kitchen with ease, slicing cornbread, reheating some leftover fried chicken, piling a plate like you’d been feeding men three times his size all your life.

Then you handed him a glass of something golden and ice-cold. “Sweet tea,” you said, proud as a peacock. “Made it this mornin’. Try some. It’ll fix what ails ya.”

Mark took the glass. Cold condensation beaded along his fingers. He sipped. Blinked. Stared at the glass like it had just rewritten his understanding of the universe.

You tilted your head, hand on your hip. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense now—how is it?”

He looked at you, eyes narrowed, completely dead serious. “…This… is good.”

You blinked at him for a beat, hand still frozen on your hip. “…Well, shoot, sugar. Say it with a little conviction, why don’tcha?” A grin tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You sayin’ that like I handed you plain water instead of the nectar of the South.”

You stepped a little closer, eyeing him with mock suspicion. “You never had sweet tea before, have ya?”

He shook his head slowly, taking another sip like it was a secret he didn’t want to share too loud.

You let out a small gasp, one hand flying to your chest. “Lord above, I done found me a man who ain’t never tasted sweet tea.” You paused, smile growing. “Well, bless your poor, misguided heart—we’re gonna fix that.”

He took another sip like he was afraid it would disappear if he didn’t drink it fast enough. And somewhere between the tea and the second bite of cornbread, it hit him: he didn’t want to leave.

Not now. Not ever.

You’d fussed over him like he mattered. You’d fed him, healed him, talked to him like he was a person—not a monster, not a soldier, not a god. Just a man. And it undid something in him. Untied all the knots he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying in his chest.

Mark Grayson, born of war and built for domination, sat in a country kitchen, bandaged and fed, listening to your soft hum as you washed dishes—and knew in his bones he would burn the world to protect this place.

You turned back to him with a little smile, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. “Feelin’ better, hon?”

Mark nodded slowly, still holding that glass of sweet tea like it was sacred. “I’m gonna marry you,” he said, quiet but certain.

You blinked. “I—pardon?”

He didn’t repeat himself. Just took another sip of tea and watched you like you’d already been claimed.

Because in his heart—you had.

[radlovesfics]

ok but what if the Variants had their own version of childhood best friend reader where they DID meet and fall in love (somehow bc we freaky like that) except in every reality besides mainstream you:

Die to Nolan/ Get mercy killed/Eaten bc u know cannibalism and love metaphor or u die before he can do that/ get a terminal illness/ overall just something horrible happens and ur gone and it’s BC OF THAT the variants go “fuck it we ball” cuckoo bananas then after going to mainstream marks world are like “wtf u get to have her but alive???? naw that’s not fair “ and just basically it’s a free for all or with their collective crazy caveman brain they decide some sort sharing custody agreement LMFAO

OR LIKE ANOTHER SCENARIO WHERE U

still fall in love with mark in every reality but mainstream Mark is the only one where he pushes u away for ur own safety and won’t tell u the reason why (if he’s just not told u about his powers) or if he decides to be like fake mean and nasty and pulls a “you’re just a distraction and make me weak” *cut to him flying away sobbing like a baby bc he didn’t wanna do it but felt like he had to* so u hate him and love him but also hate him so much and now all these variants are pulling up and mainstream mark realizes he’s FUCKED when all these other assholes are obsessed and hellbent on finding u bc why would they not love u to their fullest ability?? they’re too selfish for that so queue funny/horrible interactions with all of them bc you’re still so mad and pissed at mark but also so in love with him it’s insane

Same scenario but kinda different: let’s say like u had ur own powers and could actually go toe to toe with mark and that shit he pulls pisses u off BAD bc u can take care of urself!! like mark gets u angry enough to attack him/make u hate him bc he’s such a martyr ofc and u fuck him up!! u both never interact again in any positive form and idk if he still gets with eve here but there’s def still pinning on his end for u anyway ofc the variants invade and reader gets sent out to deal with them while mark is MIA and maybe the variants’ reader was weak/powerless in every reality except the mainstream one so this is like. hard drugs for these crazy marks who are like “oh my god you’re so hot please beat me” u know?? and ofc u do bc u hate mark here and take out ur aggression on them

but I’d like to think (for added drama) ur superhero costume involves a mask to hide your identity and since ur were weak/dead in their realities, as these variants are fighting u they have no idea who u are and are not going easy or pulling punches and are being just awful but u know!! one sends ur mask flying or breaks it somehow and suddenly everything comes to a dead stop and whichever one ur fighting will freeze in disbelief bc wtf this is the loml??? the last person they expected ?? and she’s so strong?? and even more amazing than they remembered ??? u however will not give an actual shit and continue beating their variant asses as they all immediately change their attitude when fighting u and it’s just a LOT of flirting/ snarky compliments/ actually mark being gross and horny on main but this obvs sets u off and they realize mainstream mark never ended up with u and u in fact HATE him as they witness u literally crush one of themselves and well obvs they see themselves as better to the mainstream mark so they’re like “ok we can work with this :)” and blah blah blah run a train on u, kidnap u, lotta hate sex, whatever

and for the mainstream mark (to those that love him including myself): the above scenario ends with him trying over and over to save u and finally some epic and dramatic love confession with lots of yelling and then y’all fight together and have ur cute wholesome reunion and then fuck like crazy LMAOOO

I need to be sedated

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes. “It’s another form of self-love. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, try new things and ultimately, live a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[airborneice]

can we talk about how @the-hilda-librarians-wife is just out here writing poetry in the tags like it’s no big deal

@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family

you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed

(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)

[anxiouscherubs]

make me

・❥・ summary: your job has been consuming all of your time and energy lately, and your boyfriend has been craving your attention. you finally have a free day together, and he’s taken it upon himself to tease you and push your buttons all day long, working you up and up until you can’t stand it anymore… and neither can he.

・❥・ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, fluff, established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, woo is a cute whiny brat<3, he’s lowkey a service sub..??, y/n is super overwhelmed with her job, woo calls y/n baby and angel, light bondange, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, got a little emo and wholesome at the end there my bad (i could not help myself), lmk if i missed anything !

・❥・ pairing: sub!wooyoung x softdom!fem!reader  

・❥・ author’s note: y’all… woo being a bratty sub just … makes sense. this fic has been in the works for a while as i’ve gotten a few other stories done and im so excited to finally be posting it! this is my first time writing woo so i hope you enjoy (: i’m also relatively new to writing so any constructive feedback is appreciated~!

・❥・ word count: 4,568

・❥・ read it on ao3: here

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It’s been hours. Hours of your boyfriend’s lingering touches, filthy whispers, suggestive comments… All morning long he’s been ramping it up, seeing how far he can push you until you can’t handle it anymore. He’s having a blast, but you’re about to kill him. 

“Can you get your head out of your ass and help me shop, please?” You playfully nudge him in the ribs with your elbow after he “accidentally” brushes a palm over your ass for the millionth time.

“It’s hard for me to focus on shopping when I’m sooo hungry, baby,” he whines as you turn into the produce section, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. 

“We ate before we came, Youngie,” the warmth of his breath has goosebumps prickling your skin, but you try to shake it off to focus on what you need to grab for dinner tonight. He chuckles as he steps in front of the cart, remembering what you need before you do, grabbing a bundle of scallions and tossing it on top of the meat in your cart. He sticks one foot in front of one of the wheels, making you stop with a jerk. You glare at him with a furrowed brow, bracing yourself for what’s about to come out of his mouth. He’s got that fucking look in his eyes, you think to yourself.

“I didn’t say I was hungry for food,” he smirks at you, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as a deep shade of crimson blooms across your cheeks. 

“Jung Wooyoung, we are at the grocery store,” you whisper,  “can you take it down a notch?” You glance around you to make sure no poor strangers heard his comment. His hungry eyes drag over your body, clearly having little regard for the other patrons of the store.

“Hmm, no,” he quips, “I don’t want to.” He winks at you before spinning on his heel to make his way around the produce section, grabbing everything else that you need for the week. You roll your eyes at him, but feel grateful he’s stopped his incessant teasing to actually be helpful. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he returns to the cart, and you realize your moment of peace was short-lived. 

“Did the potatoes say something funny?” You taunt him, crossing your arms as he puts everything in the cart. 

“No, you’re just really hot when you’re annoyed with me,” his voice quiets slightly as another couple walks by. “You know you love it,” his eyes dart to your lips before meeting your gaze again, that glint in his eye making your belly warm. You ignore him, knowing it’ll only egg him on even more. You back the cart up a little so you can steer around him, his eyebrows raising as you’re about to pass him. He sticks an arm in front of you, wrapping his fingers around your waist before dipping his head down to whisper in your ear again, “don’t pretend like you aren’t wet right now, baby.” 

Stifling a gasp and ignoring how absolutely correct he is, you slide out of his grasp and head toward the bakery. You need to get him home before you get yourselves arrested for public indecency. 

The rest of your shopping trip is riddled with more of Wooyoung’s incessant flirting and fleeting touches, and by the time he loads all the groceries into the car for you, you’re about ready to lose it. He drives you both home, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, frequently squeezing dangerously close to your core, with just enough pressure to make you dizzy. 

You put your groceries away in silence, both of you clearly waiting to see who will crack first. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, you’re feeling especially stubborn today. Despite how much his wandering hands and eyes are affecting you, you try not to let it show, knowing that’ll only make him try harder… Maybe he’ll even start begging.

Wooyoung seems to have disappeared as you put the last of the snacks in the pantry, and for a moment you think maybe he’s given up. Wrong. 

“Are you done giving me the silent treatment?” He whispers from behind you, startling you so badly that you drop a box of Pepero as you spin around to face him. 

“God dammit, Wooyoung,” you run your hands through your hair in frustration as he drops to his knees in front of you to pick up the box. 

“Ah, my favorite angle of you,” he looks up at you, his deep brown eyes twinkling under the warm lights of your kitchen. 

“Is that why you scared me? So you’d have an excuse to get on your fucking knees in front of me?” You can feel your cheeks heating, both anger and lust pumping through your veins. 

He beams at you, satisfied that you’re letting your resolve slip a bit. “I’d like to think I don’t need an excuse to get on my knees for you, baby.” He darts his tongue out to wet his lips, drawing the bottom one between his teeth. 

“You are such a fucking brat,” you glare down at him, snatching the Pepero out of his hand as he offers it to you and tossing it on the counter behind him.

“And you are fucking hot when you talk to me like that,” 

“Shut up, Wooyoung, oh my–”

“Make me,” he interrupts you, his teasing gaze shifting to something much more wanting. “Please, make me.” 

There it is. 

You gawk at him in silence, the corner of your mouth tugging up into a smirk as you let his challenge hang in the air between you. 

Desperation takes over his features and his breathing turns shaky as he practically whimpers, “please, please, make me shut up, baby.” He’s so pretty when he begs. He wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, resting his chin on one of your thighs as he looks up at you. “Please.” 

You gently thread your fingers through his dark hair, wrapping your hand around the back of his head before tightening your grip on his locks, pulling his head back. He groans at the pain, a hoarse laugh falling from his lips, his breath quickening as he admires you towering over him. “And how would you like me to do that?” You question him, noticing the outline of his stiffening cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Surprise me,” he breathes, hissing as you tighten your grip on his hair, pulling him up to force him to stand again. If he wants a surprise, he’s about to get his favorite one.

“Be a good boy for me, Youngie…” your voice dips into the sultry tone you only use for him. “Go take your clothes off and lay in our bed, okay? Can you do that for me?” Releasing your grip, you take a deep breath as Wooyoung’s eyes light up and he giddily nods before hopping up to run toward your bedroom. You roll your eyes briefly at his excitement, knowing he’d break you today no matter what. He’s just so cute when he tries so hard, and you’ve missed the banter throughout your busy work schedule this past week. Maybe you both really needed this. 

Making a brief pitstop in the bathroom, you give your boyfriend a moment to get settled as you change into your black silk robe that always makes him weak. The shuffling sounds from your bedroom cease as you walk towards it, and you pass through the doorway to see Wooyoung exactly how you were hoping you’d find him. 

His clothes are in a pile on the floor, his head propped against the pillows, one hand wrapped around his leaking cock while the other rests cradling the back of his head. His lips are slightly parted, his eyes glazed over at the sight of you in your robe. 

“Fuck,” he whines, “you look so fucking good,” 

You stalk toward him silently, slowly untying your robe and letting your breasts peek out through the opening. He squeezes the base of his cock as his eyes rake over your body, freezing when you furrow your brow at him. Once you reach him you grab his wrist, his grip loosening on his length immediately. You hear his breath catch in his throat, realizing his mistake.

“I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself, Youngie,” you tease him, a fake pout on your lips. With your free hand, you pull the silk tie from the loops of your robe, ever so slowly, grinning as Wooyoung lifts both arms above his head. “Good boy,” you praise him as you use the tie to gently bind his wrists together, guiding his hands around one of the metal bars of your headboard. “Hold onto this until I tell you that you can let go. Do you understand?” 

He nods so fast his cheeks jiggle a little, and you have to stop yourself from giggling at how cute he looks. You press a soft kiss to the middle of his forehead before letting your robe fall open completely, giving him a moment to admire your body. The cool air kisses your nipples, and you feel them begin to peak at the sensation.

“Scoot down a little for me, will you? I think I need a little more space to sit.” 

“Y-yes, okay,” he stutters, eyes blown wide, wiggling down the mattress until his arms are flush against the sides of his head, his knuckles turning white from the strength of his grip on the bar. 

You climb up onto the bed, swinging a knee over his body to straddle him, hovering right over his cock, velvety and solid, resting against his stomach. His chest heaves as he drinks in the sight of you, resisting the urge to reach out and run his fingers over your pert nipples. 

“So obedient for me, keeping your hands to yourself like I asked you to,” you coo, rolling your hips downward, barely brushing your cunt over the length of his cock. He hisses at the feeling, nibbling on his bottom lip. “But you’ve been a little too mouthy for my liking today, Youngie,” you lift your hips again, a needy whine leaving his mouth as he tries to lift his own hips to reach you again, but you plant a hand firmly in the middle of his stomach and push him back down. 

“I-I’m sorry baby, I just wanted to tease you a little because I’ve m-missed you, you’ve been so busy” he pouts, continuing to wriggle his hips beneath you. 

“I’ve missed you too, sweetie, but you know better than that,” you taunt, starting to scoot up his torso inch by inch until you’re straddling his chest. Your silk robe trails behind you, running over Wooyoung’s exposed body. He hisses as the smooth material glides over his cock, and he struggles to stop himself from thrusting into the sensation. 

“Do I?” A devious glint in his eyes tells you he’s still not done instigating. 

“You should,” you reach out to grip his jaw in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “But you get off on me being mean to you, don’t you?” You lower your core onto the firm plane of his chest, rolling your hips over him, and he groans at the feeling of your arousal gliding across his skin, his eyes glued to your center as you move. “You instigate, you push my buttons all day long, because you want me to lose control, hm?” You emphasize each string of words with a roll of your hips, earning another delicious whine from your boyfriend. 

“It’s not my f-fault you’re s-sexy when you’re angry,” he chokes out, his arousal getting the best of him, stopping him from sounding as snarky as he intended. He stumbles over his words as you pull your robe up his length, savoring the feeling of the silk gliding over his sensitive cock. “Ah,” he whimpers, throwing his head back and gripping the bar of your headboard even tighter. 

“Well, my sweet boy, you are sexy when you’re putting that pretty mouth to good use,” you thumb his bottom lip, and his eyes roll back at the contact. “Don’t you agree?” 

“Yes, baby,” he nods, “use my mouth please, I want you to use my mouth,” his brow furrows as he boasts his prettiest begging face, giving you that look that makes you crumble. Seeing him so willing to please you always makes your heart swell in your chest. 

“Such a good boy,” you card your fingers through his hair, his dark eyes dancing across every exposed inch of your skin. “Let go if you need a break, okay honey?” You look to where his hands are still tightly gripped around your headboard. 

“I won’t,” he grins, and you know he means it, but you still want him to agree. You gently pinch his earlobe. “Ah,” he whines, screwing his eyes shut for a moment at the pain, “yes, I will,” 

“Mhm,” you lift your center from his chest to move further up the bed, watching your boyfriend’s eyes light up as your cunt finally comes fully into view. He chews on his bottom lip, waiting for you to get comfortable. You let your robe fall from your shoulders completely, and drop it on the floor next to your bed. 

“You’ve been so patient, my sweetheart,” you praise him, settling each knee on either side of his arms, effectively pinning them down next to his head. You swear you hear him purr at the sight of you, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he restrains himself, waiting for you to give him permission to taste you. His eyes grow darker with each second that passes, and you can feel his eagerness radiating off of him. “Ready?” 

“I’ve been ready since I woke up this morning, y/n,” he rasps, licking his lips. 

You could keep the banter going, but despite your hardened facade, you need him just as badly. You brush a dark strand of hair from his forehead as you finally lower your center within reach of his mouth. 

Wooyoung immediately licks you from your entrance to your clit, repeating his tongues movement as you get comfortable in your lowered position. He groans at the taste of you, lapping at you. You brace yourself on the headboard, the tension in your body melting away at the feeling of his tongue on you. You didn’t realize how much of a toll your busy schedule had taken on your body and your mind, or how much it made you miss your boyfriend.  

“You taste so good, baby,” he groans, “sit down all the way, suffocate me,” he reconnects with your center, flicking his tongue over your swelling clit. 

“If you need a break—“

”If I need a break,” he interrupts you firmly, “I will tell you, but I do not see that happening until I make you come on my face. Now, will you please shut your beautiful mouth and let me take care of you?” He looks up at you from his prone position, his eyes ablaze. 

His sudden steady tone shakes you, and you realize you’ve made him just as impatient as he’s made you. How the tables have turned. You nod, and he instantly reconnects with your clit. You fully sit on his face, and you can’t help but throw your head back as he sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth, pleasure shooting through your body. 

“Fuck, Youngie,” you whine, earning a core-rumbling hum in response. He slides his tongue back to your entrance, pushing inside gently, and he chuckles as you squeeze around it. He pushes inside even deeper, the tip of his beautiful nose bumping against your clit. You can’t help but rock your hips, grinding down onto his face, using your grip on the headboard for leverage. He nods as much as he can under the restraints of your body, urging you to keep going. 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, slipping his tongue out of you to flatten it against your clit, nodding again. You roll your hips over his tongue and he hums in approval. You rock against him faster, harder, each firm brush of his tongue over your clit drawing you closer to the edge. 

“F-feels so good,” you breathe, feeling him grin under you. You glance down at him, a smile pushing through your lust at how smug he looks, raising an eyebrow at you. Even with you riding his face, he manages to find a way to give you a little attitude. If you didn’t have a searing heat pooling in your belly, you’d reach behind your back to wrap your hand around his cock… surely that would put him in check. 

You can’t help but forget that idea the second he tenses his tongue against you, the extra pressure pushing you further toward your release, your grip tightening on the headboard in front of you. Your whole body warms, an electric current shooting straight to where your body meets his as you continue to roll your hips over his mouth.

”I’m so close,” you warn him, and he smirks against you once more, flicking his tongue as much as he can under the beautiful weight of your body, just enough to push you over the edge.

You tense your burning thighs and screw your eyes shut as your orgasm courses through you, leaning over your boyfriend to rest your forehead against the headboard, lifting off of his mouth slightly, giving him room to softly lick at you, gently coaxing you through. You lift off of him further, and he begins peppering your inner thighs with kisses. 

“So pretty,” he coos from under you, his soft voice soothing you as your breathing steadies. You slowly open your eyes to see him beaming up at you, still keeping an iron grip on the headboard. “My girl,” he whispers.

“So good,” you praise him, placing a hand over his. “Let go, Youngie,” 

“You sure?” He checks, loosening his grip slightly. 

“Yes, baby, your fingers look like they’re gonna shrivel up and fall off,” you both laugh, and you untie his hands as he flexes his fingers. You scoot down to straddle his stomach, slowly lowering his right arm, massaging his shoulder as you do. “Feeling okay?” You didn’t realize how tightly your thighs were squeezing his arms against his head, and you feel a spike of panic as you realize how much he might be hurting.

“More than okay, angel,” he says, watching you with so much admiration in his gaze, it makes your chest ache. “I’m okay, I promise,” he assures you, sensing your anxiety. He knows you so well. You finish kneading the tightness out of his right shoulder and let him rest his hand on your thigh as you start on his left. He immediately splays his hand wide across your leg, rubbing a thumb over your skin while you slowly lower his left arm, not expressing so much as a wince, reassuring you further that he’s not hurt. 

You rest his hand on your other thigh, and he starts massaging your sore muscles as you do the same to his. You sit in comfortable silence, until he inches his hands up your thighs, and yours freeze as you realize what he’s doing. 

“Wooyoung…” 

“Hm?” He smirks at you, his hands creeping closer and closer to your center. “You’ve been working so hard… Let me take care of you.” Your job has been driving you into the ground, expecting so much from you and giving you more and more responsibilities, you feel like you’re losing control. Maybe it’s finally time for you to hand the control over to someone else, even if it's just for the night. 

“Yes, please,” you nod slowly, running your hands down your boyfriend’s chest. 

Wooyoung carefully runs the pad of his thumb over your center, adding a little pressure when he reaches your clit. His other hand coasts up your belly to your chest, fingers tenderly wrapping around one of your breasts. You melt into his touch, letting every stressor from recent days slip to the back of your mind. 

“Why don’t you lay down, angel? Get comfortable,” you nod wordlessly at his suggestion, sliding off of Wooyoung, with his gentle guidance, to snuggle up next to him. He rolls onto his side, sliding his hand between your legs, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispers against your mouth. 

“I love you, Youngie,” you welcome his tongue into your mouth with a breathy moan as he slips a skilled finger inside of you. The taste of yourself in his mouth only makes you feel more eager. He rolls onto his side, pressing his body against yours, his solid length rubbing against your belly.

“I love you,” he pumps his finger a few times before adding another, immediately curling them inside of you, so familiar with your body and how to please you. He kisses you hard, swallowing all of your whines, the sounds of your arousal making his cock twitch against you. You realize how much he must be aching for some relief. 

“I want you inside of me, please,” you widen your legs further, opening yourself up to him. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” his smug tone would normally grind your gears, but right now you just need him, need release. He slips his fingers out of you, hooking his hand under your knee before hiking your leg up over his hips. He slides down a little bit to adjust his positioning, planting one foot on the mattress to give him some leverage as he lines up with your aching entrance. 

He presses a bruising kiss to your lips as he slides inside of you, filling you to the brim in one swift thrust. You both shudder at the sensation, not remembering the last time you’ve been able to do this. 

“You feel incredible,” he whispers, pulling out of your heat slightly before burying himself in you completely once again. He quickly finds a delicious pace, bumping that tender spot inside of you with each thrust, the coil in your belly beginning to tighten again.

“I missed you,” you mumble against his mouth, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth. You squeeze around him at a particularly deep thrust, and he whimpers, 

“Do that again, and this will be over too quickly,” he warns you. He slips two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them gently, making a show of it before releasing them with a pop. A whine falls from your lips as he trails his wet fingers down your chest, your belly, finally slipping them between your legs. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” you press your forehead against his as he expertly swirls the pads of his fingers around your swollen clit, blood rushing to your center. “So good,” 

“Mhm,” he kisses you again, “let go, baby,” 

He fucks into you in earnest, rubbing your clit just the way you need, bringing you straight to the precipice once again. 

“I can’t, fuck,” your climax is approaching so quickly you can barely process it, 

“Yes, you can, I’m right behind you,” he reassures you, “come on, angel,” 

You come hard with a sob, tensing around him as he stills, spilling hot and fast inside of you. In between heaving breaths, you share desperate, passionate kisses with your boyfriend, your heart feeling the fullest it’s felt in weeks. You remain tangled with Wooyoung for a while, foreheads pressed together, kisses becoming softer and sweeter. 

He carefully slides out of you, resting your leg back on the mattress, and scooting up slightly to lay eye to eye with you.  

“Now what?” He kisses your hairline, rubbing the back of your neck just how you like. 

“Shower, please,” you nuzzle into his touch. Moments later, you’re under the hot spray of your shower head with your boyfriend.

“I think I really needed that,” you hand Wooyoung your shampoo, watching him squeeze a sizable dollop of it into his palm. 

“I know,” he snaps it closed and hands it back to you, “and I know you already know this – turn around, please,” you do as you’re told, smiling at his manners. “I know you already know this, but it’s okay to let go every once in a while, baby.” He lathers up your shampoo and starts gently rubbing it into the ends of your hair, working it up to your scalp, massaging it with his fingertips. “Work demands so much from you, but you can take a breath when you’re with me,” 

Your throat tightens. “I do know that,” you admit, “but, it’s just hard sometimes,” 

“Of course it is, it’s not a switch.” He pops the shower head off of its mount and starts rinsing the bubbles from your hair, gently running his fingers through to work out any tangles. “But when you don’t give yourself a chance to rest, to let someone else take care of you, you have weeks like this where you’re completely not yourself.” His voice softens on his last few words, like it’s been on his mind for some time and he’s finally found the right time to say it. He pops the shower head back on, then drops a soft kiss to your shoulder. 

You hope your tears blend in with the water already peppering your cheeks  as you turn back around to face your boyfriend. “I’m sorry, Youngie,” you sniffle, “I’m still figuring out how to balance everything,” 

He wipes a very obvious tear from your cheek. “You don’t have to apologize to me, I know how hard you’re working and how much it takes from you some weeks – conditioner please?” You crack another smile at his commitment to care for you even in the middle of an important conversation, handing over your conditioner. He pops it open, squeezes a little out, and hands the bottle back. He reaches around your head to rub the conditioner into your hair, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I am here for you, I’m here to make life easier for you, you know I love to take care of you,” 

“I know, and I need to let you,” 

“You do.” A smug grin creeps across his mouth. “But I will always think you’re hot when you’re mad at me, so keep that in mind.” 

“Oh my god, Wooyoung,” you lightly smack his chest, feeling lighter now that his concerns are out in the open, and you know what you need to work on. “I will definitely keep that in mind,” you wrap your arms around his neck, admiring the softness of his eyes. 

“How do you want to spend the rest of our evening, my love?” He pulls you closer to him, under the warm stream. 

“I want to get into those matching pajamas you bought us last Christmas,” you kiss his right cheek, “make Chapagetti,” you kiss his left cheek, “and eat mint chocolate chip ice cream in bed.” You press a quick kiss to his lips.

“God, I am so in love with you,” he whispers. 

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[frvnkcastles]

YOU SEE ME FOR WHAT I AM ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Your friend Curtis sets you up with a friend of his, and you are pleasantly surprised by your blind date.

Warnings: Reader has PTSD (background not specified), drinking, implied female reader

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: I’m aliveeee!! Y’all, I feel so bad that I’ve been gone for so long but with Born Again just around the corner I was itching to finally write something again. School has me so burned out and whatever little time I have to myself I just spend binging GMM but I suspect I’m going to be overwhelmed with inspiration to write in no time. At the very least, my semester is over mid-April so by then I should be back for good! Anyway, it’s been a long couple of weeks so I really wanted something wholesome. I know I’ve got a bunch of requests waiting for me, but here’s a little blind date scenario <3 I’m so so indescribably excited to get my best guy back.

You had to admit you were walking into that unassuming dive bar you had walked past so many times but never entered with your mind already made up. When Curtis had insisted on setting you up with a guy he knew, you weren’t exactly leaping with joy, but he was far too persuasive for you to decline his offer. He was no longer just the guy in charge of the group meetings you attended to for some insight on trauma although you were not ex-military, he was also a friend of yours by now, and you had reluctantly admitted that you trusted him on this.

Still, it had been a shitty week and you just wanted to curl up in the corner of your couch with a book and your favorite drink. But you couldn’t deny that sometimes the best cure for your troubles was to be with other people; people who didn’t bring you down or cause prematurely gray hairs for you. That was exactly what Curtis had told you regarding his friend too — that he was the most introverted introvert he had ever met and could really use someone nice to talk to, someone like you.

Whether sparks of the romantic nature would fly between you, well, that was up to you two.

As you hesitantly walked into the bar, you spotted him immediately even though there were plenty of people around. Well, it was less knowing and more hoping, the sight of that tall hunk of a man taking your breath away so quickly, it was almost embarrassing. He was leaning against the bar counter and sipping a beer while scanning the room; for you, you hoped, but the tension in his broad shoulders suggested he was out of his element, too.

Swallowing, you gathered your strength and stepped over to the bar, and as soon as his stare found your shorter figure striding towards him, some kind of recognition awakened in the dark depths of his eyes. He didn’t move away from you, but he also didn’t say anything, so you took in a deep breath and made the first move, hoping he would invite you into his company — though you couldn’t deny the thought was intimidating, too.

”Are you Curt’s friend?” you asked, your voice coming out more soft and careful than you intended, and as he eyed you over in a way that he probably meant to be subtle, you assumed he could tell how nervous you were. You hadn’t been until you had seen him from

the doorway, and now, with his burly frame towering over you, you couldn’t help the quiver in your fingertips.

”Yes, ma’am. Frank”, he introduced himself, sticking out his large hand for you to shake. His old-fashioned mannerisms made your lips twitch upwards and you felt some of the anxiety dissipate as you gripped his thick fingers and shook them.

”No need to be so formal, Frank”, you insisted with a chuckle, telling him your own name before ordering your go-to from the bartender. He watched your every move keenly, dark eyes observing you curiously like you were something awfully unusual. His scrutinizing gaze invited warmth to your face but you didn’t comment on it, and he did not either, though his mind was running a million miles an hour.

Then again, it often did. But this was different. Just like you, he had been reluctant to agree to Curtis’ idea but he generally had a hard time saying no to the man, and tonight was no exception. So, begrudgingly, he had put on the only shirt he had without any blood on it, shelved his plans for a late night mission for a later time and strolled to the bar with the single goal of just indulging Curtis. Having a beer didn’t sound so bad, either. And then you showed up, and his throat started to close up and his palms sweat against the cool bottle. He was good at giving nothing away, for the most part anyway, but he couldn’t quite resist scanning your figure and instinctively licking his lips.

”How d’ya know Curtis?” Frank cleared his throat then, his eyes meeting yours while he tilted his head to the side as a display of his attention. You drew a much needed sip from your drink and debated on whether to give him the long, honest answer or the filtered version of it. Most guys didn’t want to hear the heavy shit right off the bat, but you were well-aware who the man in front of you was, and you supposed that heavy was hard to avoid with him. Maybe he’d even appreciate it, knowing he wasn’t the only one burdened by the past.

”Uh, I go to his group every now and then. I—I’ve never served, but um, PTSD haunts me like it does a lot of the people there so I like going there, being surrounded by people who understand”, you decided to choose the middle road by elaborating just enough to sate his curiosity.

His eyebrow lifted at your answer, and the look in his eyes shifted, like he saw you differently now — but not in a degrading, disappointed way. It was more like he recognized himself in what you were saying and it hooked him in, made him realize that you were more than just a pretty face Curtis had sent to woo him. Maybe he should have known his best friend wouldn’t waste his time.

”Guess Curt thought you and I got that in common”, he grunted, sipping his beer before shrugging, ”I mean I ain’t the biggest fan of goin’ to the group but I do it sometimes. Never bumped into you before, though.” You wondered if that was a good thing or not. He was easy on the eyes, that much was obvious to you, but there was a certain charm to him in general, and so, you were inclined to wish you could have met him sooner. Still, you couldn’t help but feel like hearing you at your most vulnerable might have scared him off, so you supposed you were glad to meet under these circumstances.

Clearing your throat, you gave him a careful nod. ”I understand that, it still makes me kinda anxious, too. But it’s helped a lot, I think. I mean, I’m still here, aren’t I?” you managed a chuckle, and he repeated the sound, briefly ducking his head before looking back up at you with an inkling of a smile on his lips. When the purple light above the bar hit him just right, you saw the fading cut on his bottom lip and the dark bruises on the corner of his eye, and you gulped so hard your throat bobbed, unable to resist wondering what he would feel like under your fingertips or, better yet, your own lips.

”I’m real glad you are, sweetheart”, he remarked, that deep, gravelly voice of his sending a thrill down your spine. You were starting to be into this, into him, way more and way faster than you had anticipated, but you tried to cool off and simply enjoy the excitement of his firm body so close to yours. You could practically feel the warmth of him, and even with the people and the music around you, it felt like you were in your own bubble with him. His eyes were laser-focused on you now, still darting to the front door whenever someone left or entered, but for the most part he had ceased his jittery observing of the room.

”So, guess you haven’t dated in a while, either?” you pointed out, trying to convey that you knew about his past without prying too much. ”Same here. I’ve had a few bad experiences that kinda deterred me from trying again but I guess Curtis thought I should leave my apartment more”, you continued casually, not wanting to get too hung up on his dating life beyond the necessary acknowledgment. It was up to him to share if he so wanted; you were starting to be comfortable enough with him to ramble on.

He looked at you with his eyebrows pulling together. ”Anyone I gotta take care of?” he asked, his voice so stern and laced with concern, even a sense of duty, that you couldn’t quite tell if he was being serious.

”Thanks for offering, but I’m good. It’s in the past”, you smiled at him, partly out of amusement but it was sincere, too. Even though it wasn’t all in the past, you didn’t feel the need to worry about it now — right here, right now, you were happy to be in Frank’s company, and with every minute that passed you by, you felt increasingly, and inexplicably, safe with him.

He chuckled, almost bashful while scratching the back of his neck. ”Yeah, uh, I’m the same, sweetheart. Don’t really see a lotta people ’cept Curtis and I’m takin’ this as a hint that he’s gettin’ sick of seein’ my ugly mug”, he shrugged, and immediately, you made a sound of protest.

”Don’t try that with me, Frank, ’cause you know I’m gonna tell you that you look good. If you haven’t dated, it’s definitely not because you don’t have women lining up”, you argued playfully, waggling your finger at him. He gave you a short laugh, but the amusement on his face melted into something almost hungry as he gave you a quick once-over.

”Nah, darlin’, outta the two of us, you’re the stunner. Got me all flustered and shit, y’know?” he insisted, hiding his mischievous smile by drawing a long sip from his beer. You fidgeted shyly, clearly bashful and unable to say anything witty back, but before you could feel uncomfortable under his curious gaze, he continued.

”But, uh, yeah, I ain’t been datin’ all that much ’cause I don’t exactly feel ready for it. I dunno what that feels like, really. Maybe I’ll never feel ready, but I just gotta take that leap”, he explained, sucking in a breath as he looked into your eyes, ”I don’t mind this, though. I’m startin’ to be real happy I showed up.”

Smiling at him, you nodded. ”Me too. It’s been a… long, long week and I didn’t think I was in the mood for meeting someone new but this was the right decision, I think”, you agreed with him, twirling the straw in your drink, feeling your heart race in your chest.

He considered his options for a minute, took a look around the bar and then finally turned to you with a quizzical look. ”Ya wanna get a booth, sweetheart? Sit down, have some privacy? You can tell me all about that long week, huh?” he proposed, and immediately, your stomach flooded with butterflies. His attentiveness, his rough voice, his fingertip grazing the back of your hand… they all worked together to make your head spin and you didn’t know if you would even be physically capable of forming the word ’no.’

But that was the last thing you wanted to say to him.

”I’d love that, Frank. I’m not in any rush to leave”, you affirmed, and nodding in approval, he flagged the bartender down for another round of drinks.

Once he was armed with a second beer and your cocktail was refilled, he nodded towards an empty booth in the corner. He waited for you to walk ahead, and you felt your body quiver with excitement when his tall, broad form followed behind you like a guard dog, working as a forcefield against anyone even giving you a look.

As you sat down across from him, he flashed a grin and you almost swooned.

”And you can lemme know about those assholes you been datin’ and we’ll see what I can do, yeah?”

[m-ayo-o]

jjk char reactions;

"hey baby, welcome home, what have you eaten today?"

"not much" :(

very hungry reader had no time to eat all day! fluffy + crack ish. just the main guys. older yuji + megumi. reader likes a lil spicy food. toji + megumi had some kind of relationship. soft sukuna [suggestive right at the end]

satoru gojo

totally overreacts

he'd find it amusing at first, seeing your pouty, hangry face

he will tease and goad you for being so hungry, with numerous belly pokes and cheek squeezes and saying you look cute like this

he'll pause his blabbering just to hear your tummy rumble and gurgle so he can laugh at you some more

after he's eventually finished mocking you and realises just how hungry you are, he'll pat your head and offer to get you something yummy

proceeds to teleport all over the city to collect your favourite dishes from numerous restaurants

comes home with way too much food, all packaged up in fancy boxes and bags- he can barely carry them all

of course, he got his favourites too- eats with you till you're stuffed

"You had THAT??? All day? Angel, baby, how did you survive? Aww, baby's so hungry she can't even fight back. Oh! You really are- oh, you can't stand up? Ok, just sit down here let me get your favourites. Just tell me what you need, I can get anything you want."

nanami kento

gets slightly annoyed then proceeds to mother you like you're his baby chick

he gets a bit worried; he really cares about you and needs to know you're looking after yourself

if not, he will do it for you

he will get out his cook books, have you flick through them and make a choice for your starter, main and dessert

he'll sit you on the kitchen counter while he makes the most wholesome home cooked meal, that he proceeds to serve beautifully !!!

oh, and of course, he won't be letting you feed yourself ever again- starting from tonight

he'll be taking the food to your mouth himself, just to make sure you eat it all

"That's irresponsible, honey. I can go back to making you packed lunches if you want? It really wasn't that much hassle. Ok, right, we can talk about that later. Just sit up here- yep, good girl. We have lots of fresh ingredients so just tell me whatever you want. Oh, you like my cooking? Good, well let me take care of you."

suguru geto

he's endlessly patient with you

like kento, he will be mothering you <3

he asks what exactly you've eaten in the day while stroking your belly gently

he presses sympathetic kisses to your forehead in the hopes to wipe that miserable expression off your face

of course, it works, and he takes your hand and guides you to the living room

he'll lay you down on the sofa, bring you your favourite drink and get you cosy and comfortable

he'll give you one more kiss before leaving for the kitchen

he puts on his apron and waits on you like you're his damn goddess

"Baby, come here, you've got all hangry now. Come on, I need to see your pretty face smiling ok, don't look so grumpy. Just take my hand, yeah come here. Just sit tight, I'll make your favourites, ok? Mm, does that sound good? Ok, good girl, just wait here for me."

toji fushiguro

condescending, belittling, bit mean

but still gives you the goods... eventually puts on his 'best dad' apron that Megumi got him as a joke but he secretly loves it

spanks your ass for banter but nearly makes you fall over

picks you up over his shoulder when he realises what kind of state you're in

plonks you on the sofa and strolls to the kitchen

he's not rushing around for you, he doesn't show you much sympathy in his words- but the food he gives you... says it all

places a little kiss on your cheek and tells you to enjoy the meal (it's so much that you will be full for all of tomorrow as well)

"What? That's nothing, doll. What's up with you? You didn't have any cash? No time, huh. 'kay, well since you're too dumb to prepare food for the day yourself guess I'll have to do it now, hm. Jesus- 'soon as one kid grows up and moves out, looks like I've got myself another one huh? Right, you're not my girl. And I'm not your daddy?"

megumi fushiguro

acts as though it's not his problem- which it really isn't but you're feeling so needy that you just want him to buckle this once and show you some sympathy

you have to spell it out for him that you want him to help you

but once he understands that you want him to take care of you, he feels this odd sense of pride that you're asking

and of course, you've tasted his cooking before- he's amazing and you'd love to encourage him to do it more often

he knows what you like already, so he just cooks in silence and serves you the most delicious meal, filled with all the right spices

it doesn't blow your head off, but gets your tongue tingling in the most satisfying way

once you're done he tidies up immediately and asks if everything was alright

feels more relaxed now you've got everything you need- curls up on the sofa with you and snuggles all night

reminds you to eat well by text every day from now on

"Uh huh. Right. Are you going to make something then? What are you looking at? Oh, you want me to do it? Uh, ok, sure. I suppose I'm not too bad at cooking. Good, I'm glad you liked it. Sure, I can cook for you more often."

yuji itadori

like satoru, flaps around and overreacts like crazy

accidentally makes it worse by talking about all the delicious foods he'd like to eat right now if he were hungry

apologises profusely when he hears your belly rumble and immediately offers to buy you take out

starts to feel sorry that you've had such a hectic day that you couldn't even eat properly

carries you to the sofa like you're his princess and lays you down there with your favourite show on tv

shows you lots of affection and sympathy <3

sits with you and gives you little kisses till your food arrives

"What!!! I can't even imagine how hungry I'd be if that's all I ate! Are you kidding??? That's crazy, there are so many yummy places to eat out there sweetie, you couldn't choose or something? No, oh you just didn't have enough time? Oh wow, you must've been so busy baby, let me order something for you right away!!"

ryomen sukuna

he'd act like the most annoying dad at first

proceeds to chastise you like you're some kind of idiot for not being able to get a good meal all day long

teases you for what feels like an eternity, making shitty jokes about how many mouths he has to feed

finally lets up when you get on your knees on the kitchen floor to start raiding the cupboards

picks you up and you cling to him like a lil baby monkey, trying to kiss his tattooed face when he sets you on the sofa surprisingly lovingly

he just pushes you off and heads to the kitchen

he's never cooked for you before, but it's surprisingly good and you eat it all so quickly he chuckles and offers you dessert by tugging at the waistband of his pants

"Silly girl, can't even take care of herself. Ok, ok, chill out. I'm only kidding, let me do it. Here, you really are a useless brat. Just- no- lie down if you can't do anything else. Yes, I'll make something for you. Whatever. O-oh, you're still hungry...?"

reblog if ur hungry lol also idk what happened to me with this one- will never write fluff again haha

[jerryandersonsdaughterinlaw]

abby fic- becoming a parent with you

. ݁₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ . ݁₊ ⊹

soft!abby / wholesome!abby / mommy!abby | modern au

this will be pt1 of a short series so bear with me! ᡣ𐭩 pt2 is here

─────────────────────────

The apartment is dim, the only light coming from my desk lamp left on low. We were lying on my twin bed, facing each other under a shared blanket that barely fits two. Abby's arm is tucked under my pillow, close enough that I can feel the heat of her skin across the space between us, though neither has reached out yet.

It's quiet-one of those heavy, still silences that doesn't feel awkward. Just full. I’ve been watching Abby's eyes shift softly between me and the ceiling. She's been thinking too much. She always does, when it's this late.

I shift slightly, resting my cheek on her hand, my voice barely more than a breath. "Did you ever want kids?"

Abby blinks. Her brow tightens just slightly— enough for me to worry I’ve overstepped.

But Abby doesn't deflect. She just lets the quiet stretch out longer, like she's really thinking about it.

"I don't know," Abby finally says, voice low and flat in the way it gets when she's feeling something but doesn't want to admit it yet. "I never really let myself think about it." Her eyes shift to meet mine. "It never felt like something I could picture."

I nod, slow. "I don't think I did either," I say. "Still don't, most days. I just... wondered if that's something you ever saw for yourself. Or not."

Abby's mouth twitches at the corner-almost a smile, almost a wince. "I don't think I ever saw anything for myself," she admits, eyes softening. "Not until recently."

She doesn't say it. But I hear it in the pause. In the way Abby's gaze flickers to my lips, then back up to my eyes.

There's a beat of stillness, heavy with something unsaid. My heart thumps, and my hand shifts between us, resting near Abby's wrist. Not touching. Just close enough.

Abby turns toward me a little more. Her voice is softer now. "If I ever did want that... anything close to that... it'd have to be with someone like you."

I swallow around the lump in my throat and give a small nod. My fingers graze Abby's wrist, lingering just enough. "Okay," I whisper, barely audible. "That's good to know."

We don't say anything else. We don't have to.

Abby shifts an inch closer, enough for our foreheads to rest together, and closes her eyes. It's not a declaration. It's just a beginning.

── .✦·········────

The visit had gone well — better than either of us expected, really.

Our friends from college, a couple who had always felt a little older than the rest of the group, had just had their first baby a few months ago.

I squealed the second I saw the tiny thing wrapped in a patterned swaddle, and Abby, who normally looked like she could carry a fridge without breaking a sweat, held the infant with surprisingly practiced gentleness.

Abby had gone a little quiet during the visit, but not in a bad way. Just... watching. Observing. Taking it all in. I had watched her watching — the way she cradled the baby without hesitation, the way she grinned when the baby grabbed her finger in those impossibly small hands, the way she had instinctively swayed when standing, like she'd done it a hundred times before.

On the walk home, my hand slipped into Abby's. It was cold outside, but Abby's palms, as always, ran warm. "She really liked you," I said, nudging her shoulder. "You're a natural."

Abby gave a small shrug, cheeks a little pink from the cold - or maybe something else.

𓂃₊

Back at the apartment, we kicked off our shoes and flopped onto the couch, Miso curling between us in a warm little loaf. For a while, it was just quiet — the kind of silence we didn't need to fill — until I broke it, my voice tentative.

"Did it... feel weird to you?" I asked. "Being there?"

Abby shifted slightly. "Not weird. Just... different. Familiar in a way that kind of caught me off guard."

I nodded, running my fingers gently over Miso's back. "I always thought I wouldn't want that," I said. "I think part of me still feels scared of the idea. Of not being ready. Of messing something up. But when you were holding her, and you smiled like that..." My voice trailed off. "I don't know. It made me think about it. Like, really think about it."

Abby leaned her head back against the couch cushion, gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I used to imagine it, sometimes. Just in passing. What it'd be like, if l ever got to have a family. But it always felt distant — something l'd be good at, sure, but not something l'd actually want. I didn’t see it for myself." She turned to face me. "But… then you showed up. And now we have a cat who thinks she owns the world, and I wake up every day wanting to take care of you. So yeah... I think I could want that. With you. You make me want things I didn't think I'd ever want." She exhaled, with the smallest smile.

My chest fluttered - not just from the words, but the way she said them. Carefully. Earnestly.

"I don't need it to be right now. I don't even know how we'd do it. But I realized something. I don't want a kid — I want your kid. I want to build something that's part of you. I want to see you holding them, and think, 'That's my whole world in one room!" She swallowed. "It's terrifying. But it feels right. You feel right."

I didn't say anything for a long moment. My book slid closed in my lap. "You really mean that?" I asked softly. "You're not just saying it?" I blinked at her, my eyes a little shiny now.

Abby nodded, leaning forward, brushing her fingers over my knee. "I mean it."

A small, wobbly breath left my lungs, like something inside me had been waiting a long time to hear those words. I scooted closer, curling into Abby's side, one hand resting over her heart. "I didn't think I wanted it either," I whispered. "But with you... I think l've been wanting it for a while now. I just didn't want to want it, because it felt impossible. And because I didn't want to want it with anyone else but you."

I smiled, and after a moment, leaned in and kissed her softly. Miso meowed indignantly between us, and we both laughed, breaking the tension. Abby tugged me close again, wrapping me up in the warmth she always carried like it belonged to both of us.

"Not now. Not soon. But... someday." I whispered into her shoulder.

"Someday sounds perfect," Abby murmured, kissing the top of my head, her arm wrapped around me tightly. "We've got time. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," I breathed, my face tucked against Abby's shoulder. "We always do."

We sat like that for awhile - just holding each other, letting the idea settle between us. No pressure. No timelines. Just the beginning of a shared future, quiet and full of possibilities. It wasn't a plan yet. It wasn't concrete. But for the first time, we let ourselves imagine it- together.

── .✦·········────

It started one night in the kitchen — not with a serious conversation, not with any grand declaration. Barefoot, sweatpants, standing at the counter flipping through a magazine.

Miso was perched on the windowsill, tail flicking, watching something only she could see. Abby stood at the stove, cooking dinner, sleeves rolled up and brow furrowed in concentration.

"You ever think about how we'd actually do it?" I asked casually, still reading. "If we ever had a kid, I mean."

Abby didn't look away from the pan. "Like logistically?"

"Yeah."

A pause. The sound of sizzling onions. Then Abby turned the burner down and finally looked over, a brow raised. "Is this hypothetical curiosity, or are you saying we should start looking into it?"

I shrugged, cheeks pink. "Maybe a little of both."

Abby set the spatula down and leaned back against the counter beside me. "Alright," she said slowly, wiping her hands on a towel. “Let’s say it’s not hypothetical.”

I looked up at her with wide eyes, so much gentleness held in the question I hadn't fully asked yet. "I want to know our options," I said. "If or when we get there."

Abby nodded. "Okay. So we research. See what feels right."

We spent the next week here and there reading articles and bookmarking sites, curled up on the couch in the evenings with one laptop balanced between us and Miso tucked between our knees. Some of it was confusing- charts and acronyms, costs and success rates- but some of it felt surprisingly grounding. Like planning a life, piece by piece.

But there were quieter, sweeter moments too. Abby's hand resting on my thigh as we read. Me gently brushing Abby’s hair behind her ear. The soft wonder in our eyes when we talked about what a child might be like.

We didn't make any decisions right away. It wasn't that kind of conversation. It was just the beginning of a path being cleared- slowly, thoughtfully. Something we could return to again and again, shaping it over time.

Later that night, as we were getting ready for bed, I stood by the sink, brushing my teeth. Abby came up behind me, arms sliding around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.

"You'd be a really good mom," Abby said softly, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

My eyes flicked to her reflection, surprised at first — then softening into something deep, something fond. I turned slightly to rest my forehead against Abby's. "You too."

Abby smiled, that shy, earnest one I loved. "Guess we'll figure it out together."

"Yeah," I whispered. "We will."

── .✦·········────── .✦·········────

pt2 is now here :)

[choccy-milky]

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

[brittle-doughie]

Right now, would really like a wholesome y/n x Pure Vanilla, he gives me a lot of comfort

- Moonglow anon (I forgot what I was originally calling myself so no identity)

“Do you need any help, Y/N Cookie? I will gladly take care of you.”

“Oh no, Pure Vanilla. I can handle myself here, just needs a bit of medicine and I’ll be hunky dory.”

“Please, Y/N Cookie. I hope I can help you in anyway I can!”

“I said I’ll be fine, Pure Vanilla…on second thought, perhaps you can do something.”

“And what will that be?”

You bring him in with you on the bed, which makes him flustered with a blush, but he giggled it off as he put his staff aside.

“If you wanted me to join you in a bed hug, you can just ask. I’ll never deny you.”

“Reassuring to hear from you..”

You yawn as the two of you held each other close as a nap was in order.

Pure Vanilla had the softest snores you’ve ever heard…

You also now know that he calls you honey in his sleep!

[trucetale]

So this is the family photo for those who seen the movie. I have dreams okay and I need this. Details about the pic without giving too much detail. It’s an 8 years in the future family photo of the Wachowski family.

The kids (well mostly young adults here) all have bandannas, and bracelets on Amy’s part, of each other’s colors to show that they are always together even when they have to be apart. Since they are older they travel and go out on adventures more. They even tend to stay gone for months but even then they always find their way back to their found family. They do bring gifts back to their parents when they travel to different places on Earth or even different worlds. Amy’s hairstyle (quill style?) is a call back to her old design before they gave her the iconic bob.

Okay so some rambling and head cannon below.

I’m so sorry this got long as hell just straight rambling. My bad, read at your own risk bro 😭

I drew Shadow and Amy as a part of the Wachowski family because I know they would welcome them no questions asked even after the debacle with Shadow if they ever go that route moving forward. But I have been reading a little fanfic recently that I saw mentioned in another Sonic tumblr post I’m sorry I can’t remember who called “Welcome to Green Hills Shadow” on Ao3 and I have been eating goood! Shadow having his found family before he meets Rouge and Omega is a head cannon for me. Even after he meets them he keeps their colors to show he cares. Something Sonic will always point out when they meet up. Amy of course would probably live with them like the trio. I can see her sticking mostly to the trio before she opens up to Maddie and Tom. Them at first not knowing just how strong she is would try to have her stand back with them and let the boys handle the dirty work but she shuts that down by saving them and help in obliterating the enemy. Her and Maddie doing some girl bonding while Tom bonds with the guys. Just a wholesome family at the end of the day.

So we know Shadow ain’t dead, you can’t kill him off without getting into the niddy griddy of his story and we know that they are going to make a spinoff movie about him. I can see Shadow joining the family but not like…. living with them like The heroes gang just on and off he’ll stay, bond with the fam and be like, “I need to find out more about myself. I need to know where I come from.” Then pew, off he goes and a few weeks later he comes back brooding but with some good news. Him and Tom talk about what he finds and they bond and stuff. Maddie and him bond for a bit, she does some embarrassing mom things that make Shadow smile and chuckle. He gets into some shenanigans with the trio and he’s off again.

Since we know Amy is gonna be in the next movie which I for one CANNOT wait for. All I ask is that they keep her a badass and not clingy. I like Amy I do and want her to be the daughter Maddie always wanted so they can do shit together heck even do a tag team rescue! Like, Tails gives Maddie some gadgets to go on a mission with them because they need their mom’s help for something and the boys can’t go because they’re the distraction and while on this mission Maddie and Amy bond… bro I need Sonic 4 NOW!!!

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

okay I have a specific request — Ethan’s sister dating george???? I just feel like ethan would be a really fun but protective brother.

I'm sorry this took me so long to put together, my job has me in a chokehold this week! anyway I hope you like it :))

I’m not sure if I’m here for the free craft services or for the existential bliss of standing next to George Clarke. My brother—Ethan, Behzinga to the world—thinks I’m just bored. He thinks I’m tagging along for some wholesome family bonding or maybe to post behind-the-scenes TikToks featuring him and his goofy friends. He has no clue that what I really want is to watch George from every possible angle until I can’t breathe.  George and I are used to this—little side glances, inside jokes, a teasing tap on the shoulder that feels dangerously electric. Nothing official, but enough to make my chest tighten in anticipation every time we land on the same shoot.

I claim a spot near the plastic folding chairs—flimsy thrones for YouTube royalty—and pretend I’m not devouring George with my eyes. I sip water I don’t need just to have something to do with my mouth. At any moment, I’m convinced I might say something desperate, like “Can I live inside your ribcage?” which is not generally acceptable small talk. But the heat in my spine is so intense that my entire body is basically a tuning fork for desire.

George glances in my direction and a hush slides over me like a weird spiritual wave, but then I remind myself: girl, you are on a set full of cameras. You can't be caught thirsting over one of your brother's best mates. Everyone here sees everything. Except Ethan, who’s too busy ignoring me for the sake of “content” to notice the entire soap opera I’m staging in my head. Thank God for that.

Eventually, the filming starts—some big wheel of dares. It’s silly. It’s comedic gold. I laugh at appropriate intervals, feeling the headache of a forced grin. My face is so stuck in performative cheer that I worry I’ll never be able to frown again. But every so often, George’s eyes drift my way. Then it doesn’t feel forced at all; it feels like someone just pressed an espresso shot of lust into my bloodstream.

I imagine the corners of my mouth still have hints of a smirk when Ethan glances over, eyes full of big-brother protectiveness. Great. His “friendly, easygoing vibe” is over. I can’t help but roll my eyes in a cosmic sense of sibling dread. Because Ethan is the barrier between me and the arms I want to fling myself into. He’s the moat around the castle. He’s the guard dog who barks at everything.

The video ends. Confetti of half-laughter, half-exhaustion litters the air. I hover near the edge of the set, my phone clenched in a death grip. Across the room, George sets down a water bottle. I decide I need to do something dramatic, or I’ll spontaneously combust.

I walk over casually—at least I hope it looks casual, like I’m in total control of my heartbeat. “You did great,” I say, trying to sound breezy instead of delirious. George smiles his classic, impossibly warm smile.

“Fancy seeing you here,” George says, stepping to me with that crooked grin. There's something boyish in the way he leans in, like we share a secret the rest of the room couldn’t possibly understand.

“Right?” I laugh, a little breathless. “Almost like we planned it.” We’ve run this dance so many times, bantering on set, one-upping each other with witty remarks, smiling in ways that promise everything and nothing. But it still feels new—a micro-thrill every time he tosses me that look.

He brushes an imaginary speck of dust off my sleeve, an excuse to close the gap between us. “Oh, I definitely planned it,” he teases, voice low.

Then I hear Ethan’s voice: “Oi! What’s going on over here?” My brother, a sentinel, standing with arms crossed like his biceps can ward off romance. 

“Nothing,” I say. “Just being friendly to your guest, Ethan.” I infuse his name with a sweet venom. 

Ethan narrows his eyes but doesn’t push it. He stalks away—still suspicious— probably to the snack table where the rest of the guys are rehashing the best jokes of the shoot. 

George leans in, breath brushing the shell of my ear. “Text me when you’re free, yeah?”

My chest throbs with that old, familiar longing. “I will,” I whisper, feeling the ghost of his presence on my skin long after he’s stepped back. We share this conspiratorial nod, like two secret agents swapping contraband info.

He steps away and salutes me in a mockingly polite way, turning to follow Ethan and the guys. And I’m left there, fidgeting like some starry-eyed fool, full of swirling fantasies about how our next off-camera rendezvous might go. Maybe it’s crazy to think we can keep up this flirtation without someone catching on—especially my brother—but for now, it’s perfect: the hush of a secret too sweet to keep bottled up forever.

[queervulturecreature00]

Shared Warmth

hi hi ! :3

dottore x gn! reader

sfw, fluff !!!, just me coping because I can’t feel my ears in this cold

u get cold and he helps !! just fluffy

≪ °❈° ≫ ———————-——-≪ °❈° ≫

The lab was always cold. A part that comes with having a sterile and bland workroom, it seemed. You were always cold. The lack of heating and insulation didn’t help either, the freezing air of ruthless winters seeping in through the cracks.

    When you visited him in the lab, it was usually because the man would overwork himself half to death. And of course, you had to be there to snap him out of it ! God knows how long he’d go without sleeping if you didn’t practically drag him to bed every once in a while.

     Today was one of those cold and overworking days. You were perched on a couch he had installed specially for you, lazily reading some book of his and watching him work on some new type of poison. He never understood why you would just sit and watch him work for entertainment, nor how you were content with this. But hey, it’s not like your company was unwanted.

      After about an hour of comfortable silence, save the occasional vial clanking and pages turning, you spoke out. “Dottie, it’s so cold in here…i’m freezing !” You exclaimed with a dramatic tone.

       He paused his writing and turned to you. Face changing from focus to slight amusement as he heard your complaints, he replied. “Dear, I always brought in a couch and a myriad of blankets. How in Teyvat and you still cold ?” He put a vial down and vaguely gestured to the stack of blankets surrounding you like a fort. 

      You merely replied with a huff before explaining. “Yeah…but we’re in Snezhnaya. In the winter ! How can you get used to this?”

       His small smile grew and a chuckle left his lips. “I’ve acclimated over decades, darling. It seems you simply are still used to the warmth of other nations.” He teased, now disregarding his work to focus on you. 

       You grumbled at the fact that he was right. He was always right. “Exactly, that’s why it’s so unfair. Not even a mountain of blankets can keep me warm.”

        He simply sighed lightheartedly at your remark, smile still present. “Darling, acclimation takes time.” He paused. “…My dear, come here for a moment, will you? I have a hypothesis.” Dottore questioned, lightly patting his thigh with a now sly smile. He always had a certain glimmer in his eyes when he was up to something.

      Skeptical, you questioned him, “…why? I don’t feel like getting dissected.” 

       He laughed, shooing away the idea, “dear, you know I would never hurt you. Without your consent.” He added the last part with a grin. “No, I merely had an idea on how to keep you from freezing.” His proposal was…interesting, you admit. Usually his experiments were more morally questionable than this. But hey, you chose to be with him, lay in your grave.

      He cleared his throat. “My dear, come. Must I repeat myself?” He almost reprimanded, though with no seriousness behind his tone. You mumbled a “coming”, before bookmarking your page in the book and leaving the comfort of the couch to come sit with- or more so on him. Adjusting yourself to comfort, you finally settled and relaxed on his lap.

      Dottore wrapped his arms comfortably around your waist, holding you close with no room to escape and resting his head atop yours. “Body heat, love, now you won’t need a mountain of blankets.” He went on about the specifics of this, and while you drowned it out, you felt he was right. You felt…quite warm. And comfy. As much as you were concerned in how he would do his work like this, you were much happier knowing his attention was on you solely.

       His chest pressed to your back, your waist was held to his hips, and head warm from his breath. It was comforting. Unusual for him, but it seems he was feeling oddly wholesome today. You closed your eyes and cuddled up to him. Dottore noticed this with a chuckle, giving your forehead a kiss. 

      “Warm? I told you this would work.” 

       You huffed at the fact that he was right. He was always right.

     “Rest, dear, when you wake up I will be here, keeping you warm.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

[bones4thecats]

Having Children With Their Fem! S/O

Characters: Aku, Father, Vilgax and Lord Garmadon Inspired By: Random Thoughts A/N: I know that a couple of these characters either don't like kids or just feel basically nothing for them, but this is just something I had to write! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Operation Zero and the Lego Ninjago Series and mentions of abandonment and divorce ⚠️

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»—————————————-　  Aku 　—————————————-««

👹 Aku prided himself on being a heartless being made of consistent darkness. But, when it came to you, his longtime wife who was created by a similar amount of energy, he was fairly fair

👹 He has always been focused on furthering his rule of the pathetic mortals in which he despised to the point where it led to him having seven girls with a woman called the High Priestess, though it was with his magic, he did not do anything disgusting in his opinion with her

👹 Despite knowing he felt nothing towards the woman and only viewed the girls as his personal soldiers, you couldn't help but feel inferior to the Priestess, she has done something that you possibly never could with Aku. Though, you did treat the girls as your own, since their mother seemingly could care less

👹 The one thing that made Aku think of having children with you was seeing you pick up a small group of baby aliens from a clan that wished to be relocated to Earth and begin to tickle them with one of your long claw-shaped fingers

👹 As the aliens left after hearing their conditions of living on his and your planet, Aku looked to you and motioned for you both to return to your personal chambers, which you did willingly and without fear

"My yang, I noticed how you looked at those young Vadaquians with a... warm and wholesome stare. That is completely unlike the lovingly evil woman I married and pledged loyalty too. So, if I may question, what is your issue?"

👹 You sighed and lowered your shoulders before shifting into a tortoise and hiding yourself inside of your shell before announcing it was dumb and he could just not bother himself with your issues

"Y/N, you're my wife of hundreds of years. I decided myself if I wanted to handle your thoughts and worries when I laid that shadow-bonding ring around your finger. Now, what is it your worried about?"

"It's just... you know the girls. I just... I want something like that."

"And that can be arranged with swift ease."

"Wait- really? You'd do that for me?"

"I would do anything for the woman who allows me to feel something other than hatred."

»--•--«

👹 And that he did. Just 9 months after the events of Samurai Jack's return and renewing the top-hunted foe to be the time-traveled man, you welcomed a young boy, whom Aku named Oni

👹 You smiled and lightly ran your hands against the baby's long trio set of horns that matched his fathers as his large pure-white eyes opened with tiny specks of white fire erupting from them. When it came to appearance, he took after his father, though your color scheme popped more than the Shogun of Sorrow's

"Ah, there is my little boy and woman!"

"And there is my stubborn husband."

"Hey now! Don't get me wrong, I wanted to be here for the special event, but I needed to get that Samurai fool out of my way again. He almost found the portal back to his time, and if he does..."

"Oni doesn't live..."

"Correct. This is all for him, and us, and I suppose his sisters and their mother."

👹 Chuckling as your baby began to shift his way to his father, the demonic being allow him to sit on his horns, giggling as he acted like the man he has observed for the past few weeks over the small portal that showed him and Jack's fight, but mainly him

"He will be the perfect next generational heir, don't you think?"

"Yes. I do, Aku."

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»»———————-　Benedict 'Father' Wigglestein　———————-««

🔥 It was no secret that your husband was far from a child-guy. He constantly provided evidence that he hated kids beyond any kind of recognition. He even hated the children that you two were forced to adopt

🔥 When Benedict married you, he laid it out plain as day that he never planned on having children, and you wholeheartedly accepted that

🔥 But, ever since the Delightful Children from Down the Lane joined your family and therefore home, you began to crave having an actual family. One not bounded by a Delightfulization-Chamber, but by blood and the love you two shared for one another

🔥 And while it was easy to think this all without saying it out-loud, even beginning to wonder about how he would reply was enough to make you want to curl up into a ball and stay there forever

🔥 Thankfully the sound of a five-way synchronized knock allowed you to be free of your thoughts. And you merely sat up from your desk and called to the children to come on inside

"Good afternoon, Mother. Father wishes your presence in his office."

🔥 You smiled at the kids and gave them each a pat on their heads before allowing them to walk to their rooms and get ready for bed. Once each of their doors closed you grabbed your husband's notebook, suspecting that was what he needed

🔥 He has a bad habit of leaving stuff in your room. Honestly he needs a better sleep schedule (not me scolding him when I barely sleep😐)

🔥 While the door to his office opened, you took a deep breath and readied yourself, hoping that his day wasn't filled with a ton of disappointments. You may be his wife, but his anger was something not even you could escape

🔥 You noticed that there was a lack of anything on fire, so, you took the chance to make some small chit-chat while your husband worked away on some papers and beckoned with his hand for you to hand him his notes

"My dear, I've been wondering how your day's been."

"It's been decent, better than normal thankfully."

"Well... there is one thing I've been meaning to speak to you about, if you don't mind-"

"If the children have done something, I swear to-"

"No! No, no! The children have done perfectly well since the last incident. It's just... oh nevermind, it's nothing that important."

🔥 Benedict went from staring intently at his paperwork to looking at your seemingly guilt-ridden face and his yellow eyes narrowed, which was prominent from the darkness of his suit

"Y/N, everything you say is important to me. Well, as long as it has nothing to do with random cravings, because those have been getting worse and worse over the past few days."

"Yeah, about that..."

"I mean, you're acting like how Monty would call and describe his wife when she was pregnant with his boy."

🔥 Oh this was pointless. Reaching into the pocket of your black hoodie that Ben gifted you for your birthday just days prior, you pulled out a small box and laid it down in front of him

"What's this for?"

"Just- open it, please."

"Is this a... pregnancy test? Oh sweet sasperilla, you're pregnant?! But I- we..."

"I understand that you aren't fond of children, so we don't have to have them if you don't want to."

"Do... you want the child?"

"I would prefer to give them a shot at life than to not."

"Then... okay. We can have the child... if you want too. This shouldn't only be my choice, it should also be yours. I may hate children to a degree but, I cannot hate you and your choices."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, if it's a boy, can we name it Benedict Wigglestein III?"

"No."

»--•--«

🔥 The sound of the collected family in the hospital's main room rung freely as the members of the Uno Family and the Wigglestein Family all wondered how you were doing in the delivery room. Ever since your screams stopped, Monty couldn't help but fear you were hurt to the point of possible surgery

🔥 All of a sudden, his brother walked out of the doors with a mixture of both traumatized and happiness written on his face, though it was mainly in his eyes

"Ben? How's Y/N and the baby?"

"I... I have twins..."

"Wait- twins?! Aw! A boy and a girl?"

🔥 Monty smiled at his wife before ushering his brother back into your room and patting his shoulder in assurance. And he couldn't help but chuckle as his brother walked into the room where you and your children no doubt were

🔥 He couldn't be anymore proud of him

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»»—————————————-　Vilgax　—————————————-««

🐙 While living for many years as a Warlord was something that many only viewed your husband as being, it was his closest allies and people that saw who he was outside of his work; a loyal and caring husband

🐙 As a member of the Chimera Sui Generis species, training for battle was a big part of your childhood. And when you first met your future spouse by training to be top-servers of your planet, he was smitten

🐙 Overtime you witnessed the destruction and new colonization of planets. And since you serves as his right-hand, Vilgax and you would see many types of families, the most common being fathers, mothers and their children

🐙 And seeing the male and female members of the army grow and expand with their families adding more members, you couldn't help but wonder; would this ever happen for you and Vilgax?

🐙 Normally he was busy with his work, so getting a decent time to speak one-on-one with your husband was hard. Nonetheless trying to talk about something so important to both you and your lives together

🐙 You were beginning to lose faith in actually talking to him, but when one of Vilgax's best men came inside of the control room you turned around and recognized him to be the one who always guarded the emergency medic and doctor's zone of the ship

"What is it you need, Soldier Axiomar?"

"Doctor Xiliv has requested her for a quick check-up, since she has been complaining of some stomach issues as of late."

"Alright. Would you like me to accompany you, Y/N?"

"I think I'll be alright... really."

🐙 Giving you a kiss on the forehead, Vilgax focused back on the coordinates of their way to Earth. You just nodded to Axiomar as he lead you to the medical room where Xiliv was waiting

🐙 Deep inside as you sat on the frequently cleaned chair, you knew what the Doctor and Medic were going to say

"Your highness, it appears that you- well."

"I know."

"Do you want us to tell Lord Vilgax or not?"

"He'll find out either way, but I'll tell him, it just makes it easier for me."

"Understood."

🐙 As the large alien walked through the halls to his and your shared quarters, he wondered why you had been acting far more nervous and weary throughout the rest of the day. Maybe you had some kind of illness?

🐙 The sound of the doors opening and closing behind your form made you spin around quick. And Vilgax merely chuckled, from calm and composed to having their guard-up in no time. You really were a soldier by heart

"Y/N. What is it you needed to speak about? It better not be something I cannot fix. Because that would be near impossible. I would destroy the galaxy for you."

"It's no illness. Unless you consider a child an illness."

"Pardon, a what?"

»--•--«

🐙 Despite his initial hesitation in being a father and raising a young Chimera Sui Generis, but after gaining advice from some of his closest allies, some would say friends, he gained the extra bravery to face the next step in life with you

🐙 He stood beside your bed as you chuckled at the sight of your baby girl. Long tentacles in the shape of elongated human hair, a small, pink wrap being around her as her tiny red eyes blinked while giggles rang through the room

"She's beautiful."

"Just like you, love."

"What should we name her?" Doctor Xiliv asked.

"How about Shaviv? It means ray of life."

"It's perfect."

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»»——————————-　 Lord Garmadon 　——————————-««

🌋 This guy has never seen himself as an ideal parent. I mean, he literally was bitten by a serpent that made him an evil tyrant in the end and he didn't take a part in his son growing up due to his unfortunate incident

🌋 And while he praises himself on not being the man he once was before, there was always a lingering bit in his heart that stayed away from being corrupted. A piece of the old Garmadon in there. Hidden away

🌋 Over time he switched from evil to good, and that was how he met you

🌋 You were the sister of Ray, the previous Master of Fire before Kai took up the mantle. Growing up with Ray meant you were also trained in the art of being a ninja, though it was with the element of light that you controlled and not fire

🌋 Over the time of them being missing, you raised your niece, Nya, and nephew, Kai, and helped Garmadon's brother, Wu, train them and their friends. And as the serpent-bitten male grew into darker habits, you remained a beckon that he couldn't help but admire

🌋 Once he redeemed himself and helped fight against many enemies alongside you and the kids, he began to get close to both you and your old friend/next-door neighbor, Vinny Folson. And let's just say that the closeness evolved beyond simple friendship

🌋 While Misako was reluctant to accept Garmadon had another lover, she noticed just how caring you were and she began to bond with you with her ex-husband and son. In fact, she was the one to ask if you two were planning on taking the next step from just marriage to having children, much to you and his fluster

🌋 After the incident of the question with Misako. Garmadon told Vinny that you two would be out for a few days and that if he needed something, he could call. And as you two began to travel to a remote and well-taken-care-of cabin just outside of Ninjago, he began to let out a small amount of chit-chat

"Hey, Y/N... I have a question."

"What is it?"

"With what Misako said yesterday... at dinner. I was wondering if- you know."

"If I wanted kids?"

"Yeah... and I understand if you wouldn't! I'm not the best guy to have children with, just ask my ex-wife."

"Garmadon!"

🌋 Spinning his head to look at you, Garmadon watched you with observant eyes as you smiled gently and held his hand with one of yours and his face with the other. And he smiled as you nodded, small tears pricking his eyes as you laid your forehead upon one another's

»--•--«

🌋 The sound of cries erupting from a woman's hands made the people sitting in the waiting room look up in surprise and slight glee. Seven of the large group looked at the nurse and she took them all back, warning them that you would probably need some space

"Is that..."

"It is. Everyone, meet Nisshoku."

"Aw! I have a nephew now! Let's go!"

"Shut it, Ray."