#requests are open!

[fictionalsownme]

The fact that Damien canonically carried us to bed because we were too drunk to stand lives rent free in my bisexual head aghshhshshnsls 🥲💞

THEY WERE UNIVERSITY-MATES, YOUR HONOR (ft. my self-insert DA to illustrate the concept 😌💞)

You saying that got me thinking that Damien is so bisexual coded idek how to explain it okay. Obviously the fact that the DA is all of us, aka any gender, aka all genders, makes him queer if you believe he has feelings for us (which like HOW COULD YOU NOT) but it doesn't even matter your gender okay... boy is yearning this hard in the 1920s as the MAYOR?? for his DISTRICT ATTORNEY?? Closeted behavior, I feel. Hehehe ANYWAY--

I'm making a Markiplier Ego Discord!! Idk how interested people are but I thought it'd be fun to try! For now, just let me know if you want to join a taglist for when it's ready (soon!!) and give me name suggestions (please ;;-;;)! 🥰

[angelkiyo]

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, who was struggling with his english course and had his professor recommend you; the pretty smart good girl who was at the top of her classes. he didn’t know what to expect. he’s seen you at the front of the class, coming early every lecture. you have a pretty face and was a fucking know-it-all, having him think he’ll be annoyed. however, even though you wore the baggiest clothes imaginable, he felt his eyes entranced simply at the way your hips swayed every time you walked and composed yourself.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, whose ego got the best of him, showing you his prideful smile. you were gentle. too gentle, with your thoughtful explanations to him, even if he was a little stupid compared to you. he was practically wrapped around your finger due to your actions, demeanor, and the fact that he’s passed every test since you’ve started tutoring him. your utter kindness was alluring, speaking ever so softly to him like he didn’t terrorize rushees and the the way you softly said his name drove him insane.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, who fakes being confused in order for you to lean closer and explain it. the smirk on his face when he “suddenly gets it” is a dead giveaway, making you giggle, “ohhh, so that’s what you mean. guess i need you to repeat that… one more time, though”. he suggests studying at the frat house for fun. he slightly impressed you when he was able to do a keg stand while you were teaching him something — answering your questions about your lecture excellently. his bros eventually caught wind of his certain fondness for you and teasingly called him a ‘nerd by association’.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, who once he began trying to flirt with you, invites you to every party his house hosted. he stays by your side for almost the entirety of the party, with the only time he doesn’t, he tries to impress you with push-up contests or drinking games. he “accidentally” bumps into you on campus, making a big deal on you being “the best fuckin tutor at this school”, earning amused looks from your friends and causing them to leave you.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, who gets jealous easily (even though you’re not dating). who sees you casually tutoring somebody else in the library and texts you saying he needs “help. urgent. right now”. and when he does see you, he just happened to see you in the library with somebody else, “teach, you got other students now? i thought i was your favorite” (insert teasing sad face). when in secret, he’d stare daggers at whoever you were tutoring, especially if they smiled at you too much.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, who, once he does (surprisingly) ask you out, he shows you off at every party, arm around your waist and chin brushing your shoulder. you don’t need to ask, he’ll give you his fraternity jacket and sweatshirts to wear to your classes and on campus (purposely sprays a shit ton of cologne for his signature scent to be noticeable). he may be very much of a brute to others in his frat, especially in parties with his winning streak in drinking games—but he would be a complete dunce when it comes to romance. he asks his friend from high school, ulquiorra on what to get a girl (who also doesn’t know) which causes him to ask ichigo, who starts making fun of him. overall, to you, it’s the effort that counts.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. frat boy! grimmjow, who likes for you to still tutor him every now and then, even for random classes such as his stats class. he takes enjoyment at the obvious closeness you two have and encourages study dates, only to take you from behind in the library. he enjoys the idea of getting caught with you as you take his cock quietly but surely in a secluded part of the library, enamored with the way you could be so quiet and nerdy yet so alluring. luckily for the both of you, you’re friends with the librarian who lets you borrow the keys for the closet. (if not, he also is into the idea of playing a game where either one of you strip if he gets an answer right).

—

lowk wanna indulge more into this but idk … “requests are open!!” i scream as i get taken back into my cell

[mysterious-art-greenhouse]

a local folly reblogger comes crawling to your askbox

PLEAAASMNHSE CANYOU DJRAW FOLLY IF YOU WANT. PLEASE IM SO THIRSTY

folly regretevator amirite

thanks for requesting!

[justanoasisimagines]

Back Off

Summary; Billy won't leave Lucas alone, the Chief's eldest daughter has had enough! Pairing; Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader WordCount; 512 Warnings; Mentions of violence, A/N; Hey lovelies, my requests are open and my guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Billy strode through the parking lot full of swagger, confidence and arrogance. He couldn't see the hurricane marching toward him. You were mad. Beyond that. You were fuming. Billy had threatened Lucas again. You were tired of him sauntering around the place. "Hey, Hargrove!" The crowd parted in the middle, Billy turned with a smirk on his face. "Princess." "You don't call me that! Do you enjoy picking on little kids? Does it make you feel powerful does it?" Suddenly Billy was face to face with you, your eyes were fiery, standing mere inches from him. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Are those jeans cutting off your blood circulation? I'm talking about you threatening Lucas at the arcade." "See all I heard was you'd been admiring me, Sweetheart." With a quick swing of your fist, you punched Billy connecting with his jaw. Billy landed on the ground, and suddenly a crowd gathered. A chorus of O's added to the already bubbling tension. "Chief Hopper's Daughter finally got some punk to her. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to know what you've done." "Who do you think taught me how to punch? Stay away from those kids."

Several days passed. Hawkins High buzzed about the altercation the other day. You were keeping an eye on Billy. You didn't trust him. "Hey, can you take the kids to the arcade? I've got a date tonight." Steve asked you as the ell rang signalling the end of the day. "Sure what time am I picking them up?" "Around five." With a nod, you left to get home before you had to go and pick up the misfits.

"Do I need to remind you not to punch Hargrove?" Your father asked while you were slipping on your boots and jacket. "No, but I'm tired of harassing Lucas." Jim sighed as he stepped closer to you. "Kid, I don't care if you give him a verbal beatdown. Honestly, he deserves it. But you know someday he'll get his comeuppance. So whatever you do don't lay your hands on Hargrove got it."

The arcade was busy. Expected on a Friday night. The kids were off doing their own thing as were you. You kept an eye out for the most part. You were trying to make the most of your Friday night. "Stay away from my sister Sinclair, or you'll regret it." You moved away from Pac-Man, heading directly in Lucas's direction. He held Lucas by the collar. "How about you stay away from him or was one black eye not enough? Lucas, are you okay?" "Looks like you need a girl to fight your battles." "Looks like you need to pick on someone younger than you. Does it make you feel big and powerful? Clearly, you're lacking elsewhere. You should want to be like Lucas. He's good, kind and loyal to his friends. He's the type of person you should aim to be. Not someone like you who uses their looks to hide their inner ugliness." Billy's eyes widened as he left without saying a word.

[fruitsoxs]

can we get some jealousy blurbs for astarion and/or gale?

Of course!! I love a good jealousy blurb

pairings; astarion x reader , gale x reader warnings; none notes; I was pumped up about this request i did it within a day lol. also rolan mention because i love him

Astarion

When you’ve got a little tadpole in your head that could very well be the end of you, little things like jealousy should be the least of your worries. Yet, here Astarion stands with one arm crossed over the other, pouting at the scene in front of him. He watches as his partner frets over another man who seems to keep showing up on their journey. Of course he should’ve known Rolan would be here at this stupid magic store that Gale so desperately wanted to visit. Astarion had heard you talk about how the tiefling was planning on becoming an apprentice for Lorrokoan. Pity that the grand wizard had turned out to be such a massive asshole. Yes it’s horrible he was mistreating Rolan (Astarion could always sympathize with any poor soul who suffers at their master’s hands). However, that doesn’t warrant you leaning in so closely to the man to look at his bruises. It doesn’t mean you can smile so fondly at him-

It takes you laughing at something Rolan said while the man stares at you softly before Astarion has had enough. The vampire clears his throat rather loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. Once you are looking at him he opens his mouth to say “Shouldn’t we get going? We’ve been in this dreaded place too long.” Your smile drops as you tilt their head, giving Astarion a confused look. Astarion simply looks away. He knows it’s petty, but he doesn’t care. Getting the hint, you nod. “I guess it’s time we get out of your hair Rolan.” you express.

Rolan's smile falters, but he nods in understanding. “I do have a lot of work to do now. Of course, if you should ever need my assistance, just call for me. I’ll lend my magic in any way that I can.” the magic user tells you. Astarion huffs and starts to walk away. He knows full well Rolan’s help would be useful, especially with the coming battle you must fight. Once again though, he doesn’t care. There’s something about this situation that has made him feel uncomfortable, and he’s quite mad about it. 

When you finally exit the massive building, Astarion’s anger subsides. He feels himself grow a little ashamed by his outburst. He wraps his arms around his chest and stops. You stop with him, locking onto his gaze with a sense of curiosity. The others have kept going, opting to give the two of you a little privacy.  

“Were you jealous? Of Rolan?” You ask seemingly humored by the entire ordeal. Astarion wants to deny it. After all, he’s never been one to care much about what you do- and who you do it with. Despite being in a romantic relationship with you, he doesn’t own you. He loves you, and he knows you love him. You’ve proved it time and time again. That should be enough. For some reason though, this situation has deeply upset him. “And what if I am?” he asks defensively, sending a glare that looks more like a pout. 

“I’ve never known you to be the jealous type.” You joke, smiling. When you notice the seriousness in Astarion’s eyes, your grin drops. “You’re serious?” you ask, inching closer. The vampire doesn’t need to say anything, his expression explains it all. You simply reach out and put your hand on his arm. You do it slowly, giving Astarion a chance to pull away if he wants. “Star…” you whisper, eyes meeting his. “You are the most important person in my life. Never forget I love you. So much.” 

He knows this, but hearing you say it makes his negative emotions melt away. “And besides, you don’t need to be jealous of Rolan. Yes, I worry about him- but we’ve saved him so many times it’s hard not to.” you sigh, shaking your head like a worried parent. A small smile makes its way onto Astarion’s lips. “Bad luck does seem to follow him.”

Gale

Gale has had a rough few months. After being ripped from his home, given a tadpole in his head, and forced to adventure with a bunch of …colorful people, he’s been craving one good thing. He didn’t expect that one good thing to be the fearless leader of his adventure party, you. Along the journey, you showed the man you had a great heart. Your habit of saving others, and doing the right thing made Gale swoon. He hadn’t expected to meet such an amazing person during such a trying time. Somewhere along the way, the wizard had fallen for you and your kind hearted nature. The only problem? Sometimes you were a bit too kind.

Gale’s smile fades as he watches a man strut his way over to you, confidence in every step. After finally making your way to Baldur’s Gate, your party had decided stopping at one of the taverns to grab a drink wasn’t such a bad idea. The circumstances may be dire, but taking a little time to relax is important. That’s how you ended up here, with a bunch of people following your tail. Gale had severely underestimated how many drunkards would have the guts to hit on someone like you. Now, his mind is swimming with that funny little green monster known as jealousy. 

“So, do you come here often?” The stranger asks you, leaning against the bar between you and Gale. Gale wishes just this once you would get angry, and react in a way unbecoming of you. Of course you don’t. You simply smile at the man and shake your head. “No. Not really.” you answer, aura radiating with kindness. “Well then, allow me to fund your next drink.” The man’s speech is slurred, clearly egged on by the alcohol in his system. 

Gale watches the scene on the other side of the man, his eyebrows lifted in a way that makes him look like a kicked dog. When you don’t deny the drink, Gale feels his chest grow tighter. The thing that made him fall for you, is the thing he hates most right now. He hates that feeling. After all, it’s his fault he has yet to confess his feelings. He finds himself turning away, glancing at his drink with uncertainty. What should he do? 

“Hey…maybe after this we could go out back-”

Gale snaps his head back over to the man. “No.” he says out loud cutting the man off. Suddenly fueled by anger, he stands up, walks over to you, takes your hand and begins to pull you away. You stumble along behind him, but don’t pull form his grasp. He leads you away from the confused man at the bar, and outside into the cold air. Once he stops, he turns to look at you. You don’t seem angry, just a little confused. 

“Is everything okay Gale?” you ask. You seem a little concerned, and it makes his heart twist.

“I- No. Everything is not okay. I just...I’m..” he groans, unable to fully express what he’s trying to say. He doesn’t want to confess like this. He wants it to be romantic, not awkward and uncomfortable. “I do not like watching people take advantage of your kindness.” He decides to say.

You smile at him, and squeeze his hand. The hand he forgot is holding yours. “Thank you Gale.” you mumble. You then lean forward, and before he knows it you’re pressing your lips against his cheek. “That’s very kind of you.”

His cheeks heat up, a dumb smile stretching across his lips. “Anything for you.”

[anyashappytobehere]

I love your art style it's so cute and squishy!!! I was wondering if it's not too mush if you could draw perfectdolls art of me and @democracyrockzz's Jane and Ocean? If it's too much one or the other is fine

hold her hand 😣

[daily-fern]

Day 5

[lamnwar]

guys.... GUYS

Requests are open! 🥰🥰

[boikhaicho]

what would craig respond with?

[haidynn]

can you make more kaminari and kirishima pfp?

kaminari and kirishima icons for anon! (wasn’t sure if you meant individually or together so i did both)

requests are open!

[uwuyangeppie]

Do you think Geppie would love to have a s/o who knows how to cook and/or bake?

oh, he’d LOVE a s/o that knows how to cook/bake! in fact, that’s how he’d first fall in love.

eating your food would cause an odd feeling to well up inside him, but gepard could never realise what it is on his own, though. serval’s the one who has to drop that bomb on him, teasing him about it.

after all, you’ve gotta experience a FIRST crush at some point, right?

and with your food paired with smiles and words of encouragement, he only feels his crush grow. he's more and more eager to go to bed, excited to see you in his mind's eye, too. he dreams of a you that’s equally as in love with him as he is with you.

ah, yeah. at some point it turned into love. if only he could pinpoint when…

maybe it was when he found you, hurt? something dark curled inside his heart on that day, masked by anger and his role as captain. you’d leaned on him so easily, suddenly so frail in his eyes.

when he found the culprit, it was the most brutal punishment ever witnessed. in the end, they decided to strike it from the records. gepard was penalised for it- he should’ve known he was going too far.

really, though. too far? he got to live, didn’t he?

this information did not reach you, thankfully. he did start thinking about how you might not have been injured to start with had it been common knowledge that you were dating him. gepard braves his anxiety and asks you out.

and you turn him down.

his sisters try to comfort him, but he turns to burying himself in work and training, eager to escape the sting of rejection. it’s not until you visit serval with a box of his favourites tidbits, looking for him, that he realises there’s still hope. that you could fall for him.

he’d try manipulation first, of course. it would be easier to explain away, and so much easier for him to coax your heart into loving him. if that fails, though, then kidnapping is next.

and if you find it within yourself to cook/bake for him again, he’ll take it as an expression of your requited love. ecstatic to eat the next thing you make for him, gepard can only fall deeper, now convinced that you feel exactly the same as he.

[hetafice]

Hi! Could I request the allies with an overworked s/o? Thanks!

hi! as usual reply is beneath the cut.

America:

It could go one of two ways with Alfred.

Alfred’s solution to the problem may just be to have you quit your job and find a new one.

As someone who gets paid to occasionally loaf off, he might not understand whatever incentivized you to stay at a job you weren’t completely in love with. In his eyes, if your job is too boring or too hard, just leave!

And should you try to explain that you do enjoy your job, just not the overbearing workload, he would be at even more of a loss. 

Another possibility is that you both end up being overworked together and forming a sort of late-night ritual where you work side by side. Sometimes talking, sometimes complaining, sometimes eating, sometimes sitting in comfortable silence as you both hustle to meet a deadline.

Although he is free by nature, Alfred is also keenly aware of just how constraining responsibility can be. To complete his duties to the fullest, he can also lose himself in pursuit of perfection. As someone who’s constantly moving the goalpost for himself, it’s sometimes difficult for him to slow down, to pace himself. As such instead of encouraging you to leave a situation that does not suit you, he might instead choose to remind you of your commitments and why you chose them in the first place.

He isn’t a complete robot, however. He understands the toll that hard work and sacrifice bring, so he’ll try and do something nice to take your mind off of things. It would likely involve one of his favourite coping mechanisms - food. Expect him to either drop food in front of you while you work at random increments or to be pushed into the car and accompany him to the closest fast food drive-in window.

Russia:

To Ivan, there is no such thing as success without a little bit of blood, sweat, and tears. While he may sympathize with you on some level, he believes that struggle is a necessary part of working hard and actualizing one’s dreams; and that to aid someone along the way is just to coddle them. 

On one level, you are someone he deeply cares for, and so he does not wish for you to suffer. However, he also knows from personal experience that without learning the lessons that come out of hard work, you are likely to take things for granted and make simple mistakes in the process of completing your goals. To help you at all would teach you that weakness can still beget success, which would not only then inspire weakness in your future endeavours and prime you for failure, but also place a massive target on your back.

In his eyes, weakness of any kind is ripe for exploitation and is to be avoided at all costs.

Besides, given his history, he knows that people can get pushed and pulled far beyond their limits before they break, so consider this a sort of litmus test. How far can you be pushed before you can’t take anymore? Where do your limits actually lie?

Canada:

Matthew has likely experienced the same things before and is naturally empathetic, so he is a great person to confide in in this scenario.

He would try his utmost best to ease your burdens in whatever capacity he could. If you were busy with work or school, he would compensate for that by doing most, if not all the work around the house. He would check up on you throughout the day to see if you need help with any tasks or even just a general morale boost.

He is more than happy to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. His advice is usually pretty sound, and he could help you think of ways to better organize your time and/or minimize your workload. If that isn’t an option he could offer various mindfulness and wellness tips to help you keep sane until your workload naturally tapers off.

China:

With his work ethic and general philosophy on life, Yao would push you to be stronger, go harder, and do more. 

In his eyes, hard work is a unanimously good thing. If you are feeling overworked it means you're just coming closer to another limitation that can be surpassed. You may be dealing with uncomfortable feelings, but this discomfort will teach you a lesson and lead to character growth. What bad has ever come of that?

To be completely honest, he may very well be the one overworking you. 

If you are enduring mistreatment in the workplace, or it looks like things may be too much for you, he may try to offer a few words of advice. He would propose that the knowledge this experience would give you was well worth all the struggle, that it would likely aid in cultivating your character, and that you shouldn’t let an opportunity like this slip through your fingers; or worse yet, quit right before the finish line.

Should your body start to take a toll from the overwork, he would offer reminders to take care of your health, but his general stance would not change. Yao is not the type to intervene when things like duty and honor are concerned.

France:

Francis would not understand why you would willingly put yourself through this.

If it’s getting to be too much, why not just leave your responsibilities behind? If your superiors are giving you too many assignments, why not raise hell about it? Meekly sitting in silence is doing nothing to help the problem, and only teaches others that they can walk all over you. Why not just take a few weeks of leave and lounge around with him?

If for some reason, the prospect of potentially missing out on opportunities in favour of spending uninterrupted time with this man is not your style (shocking, I know), he would support you in your endeavours and try his best to help you unwind at the end of every day. He would make sure you ate regularly and continued to sleep well, while also providing you with as much wine as you needed to get you through it.

England:

As he has matured, Arthur has gotten better at consoling people. With that being said, he’s still not the best at it.

Expect an awkward, albeit endearing pep talk coupled with a bit of well-intentioned advice.

He may not be the best with words, but he’s the most concerned when he sees signs of physical exhaustion in you. Despite finding it a bit awkward to voice his concern for you, he’s seemingly always nearby with a cup of tea for you and refuses to head to bed unless he knows you are right behind him.

He’s more than willing to accompany you on those restless nights. Sitting beside you, either reading a book or getting ahead on a few of his assignments. He still remembers his younger days when he frequently worked late into the night. At the time, he secretly wished for a companion, and so now he happily fulfills that same role for you. 

A part of him also feels less worried knowing that should things go on for too long, he can step in and stop you before you work yourself too hard.

[blooberrries]

『monday misery』 — yuji

— pairing: yuji x reader — genre: college/university au, slight crack — wc: 1.7k — rated: sfw — notes: when inspiration strikes you gotta follow it ya know. this cracked me up more than it probably should have

prompt: I don't know why you've got a ferret on a leash but at least I've stopped crying on public transportation to watch that lil guy go

The tears are still damp on your cheeks, another set budding and ready to go, when you see it. Something small, something wriggly, something wormy.

Something that has absolutely no business being on the 8AM train into the city central.

Just moments ago it felt like the world could come to a crumbling end around you, and you’d embrace it all while sitting there and doing nothing but emptying your tear ducts of every single drop of moisture they could spare. You literally could not imagine a single event that would have stopped your exhaustion and assignment deadline-fueled weeping. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you just kept on crying, forever. The future was bleak and not set to look up anytime soon with an 8.30AM lecture looming on the horizon.

But this… this is a variable you never could have predicted.

The sheer lunacy of it has stopped your tears in their tracks, and now you’re watching the poor guy sitting across from you like he’s an animal in a zoo. He has noticed, and it has made him sweat. A large hand comes to scratch the back of his neck, fingers ruffling the two-toned hair. The cherry-blossom mop atop his head really only adds to the comedy of what you’re witnessing.

Something is worming around under this man’s clothes. Which, you have to admit, does sound like a poor excuse to be drilling holes into him right now with your eyes – but that’s not it! You saw something poke out earlier. Something furry, with beady eyes and such rapid twitching head movements you’d swear the thing was on crack.

It’s a fucking ferret.

The worst part is, no one else around you has even noticed! Or maybe they don’t care. Truthfully, they seem to be giving this guy a wide berth— and you for that matter, being across from him and all that. Or maybe it was the silent weeping and looking out the window like you’re in your own early 2000s music video. There’s no way to know.

To his credit, cherry guy looks embarrassed. Good. You don’t want him thinking it’s anything normal to tote around a ferret in the quiet carriage, like some noodle-shaped teacup dog. The only way he could get away with it is if he at least had one of those exorbitant handbags he was keeping it in. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like any vessel on this green earth, luxury or otherwise, could keep this tiny demon contained.

Your eyes burn in the aftermath of your sleep deprivation and crying spell as you watch the man try and push the ferret’s head back into hiding, and the little mongrel, without even a split-second of hesitation, chomps down on the closest finger. Cherry guy whimpers, eyes slipping closed in something akin to defeat and resignation.

At this point you’re beginning to feel that he didn’t bring the ferret, but instead the ferret brought him.

A few minutes is what it takes for cherry guy to gather the strewn shreds of his pride. When he opens his eyes next, their chocolate hues meet your own. He leans forward a little, as much as he can without the hell noodle slipping loose from his cotton prison, and whispers ever so softly across the space.

“His name is Mahito.”

You frown, and can physically feel your eyebrows scrunching together like it was a crime they had ever been apart. “What, like the drink?”

Apparently you hadn’t asked that as quietly as you’d thought, because you get shushed by someone three seats down right after. Wait– three seats? There’s no way they’ve all moved even further away.

Cherry guy looks like he is seriously contemplating the question, and you wonder if the ferret is even his or just some poor animal he snatched off the streets. “… No. Probably… not.”

You stare at him, sniffling. Your face is almost entirely dry now, skin feeling tight instead of damp. “Uh-huh.”

Steadily, the man’s face begins to flush as mortification warms his sun-kissed skin. Silence beats painfully on between you. Eventually, you break it.

“So, uh. You do this often? Carry around a ferret in your shirt?”

The flush spreads to cherry guy’s ears. “Um, no. That would be weird.”

You incline your head, lips pressed firmly together so you don’t let a laugh slip and make him feel worse. “Indeed.”

“He’s not mine,” he blurts suddenly, and like the ferret has a flourishing vocabulary and outstanding comprehension of the human language, he rips out of the bottom of cherry guy’s shirt and sinks his teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger in retribution. You wince, and the poor man has to cram his fist to his mouth at the speed of light to muffle the slew of profanity that begins to escape.

A few moments full of deep, meditative breathing later, he lowers his fist and scowls at the ferret that is only now removing his jaw from the tender flesh of his hand. He hisses lowly, shaking out his hand. “You little rat bastard. Just you wait till we get home and Sukuna finds out you snuck into my backpack again. You’re gonna get sent to macaroni prison for sure.”

You raise your brows. Ah, so that’s what must have happened. That actually explains a lot. You can’t help your smile now. “What a darling little angel.”

Cherry guy’s head snaps up to shoot you an incredulous– nay, borderline affronted look. “He’s awful, truly. Actual hellspawn. I have to buy a new gaming headset every other week because the little monster chews through the cords so often. I tried keeping my door locked while I was out but the little bastard just turns his body to liquid or something and worms his way under.”

A strangled sound escapes you when you barely manage to lock down your laugh in time. Cherry guy continues, apparently needing to vent about the foot-long menace more than he’d anticipated.

“My brother actually already replaced his door with one that doesn’t have a big gap at the bottom, but he keeps refusing to do it for mine every time I ask because he thinks it’s funny that his little agent of rat chaos eats through half my stuff on the daily.” He huffs, glaring at the wriggling noodle that he has now trapped in his hold. An older woman gives a very strongly disapproving look from four seats down before returning to her killer sudoku. “I have not known peace since he has entered the house.”

You wince, feeling a little sympathetic. “Damn. How long has your brother had him?”

You expect it to be an awful long time, based on how burdened this man seems to be by the mere existence of this ferret. His answer makes you physically bite down your reaction, your entire body tensing from the effort.

“Uh, a month or two.”

Yikes. You’re scared to think of what the rodent might do once he’s actually settled in.

Silence settles between the two of you once more, broken the chime of the conductor’s voice echoing over the speakers as you come one stop closer to the city. A few people disembark, including the lady that gave the stink eye earlier. She does it again as she steps off, and cherry guy shrinks into his seat. The doors close, and once more silence falls, though more comfortable than the first time.

A while later, the man shifts, a complete contradiction to the tornado of movement that the creature in his hand is doing. The noises escaping the little thing are hard to ignore, and even harder to keep a straight face at.

“What, uh… what were you crying about?”

You blink at him as your gaze returns from the window. You’d actually forgotten you were crying earlier, which is pretty funny considering at the time you were acting like the world was about to end for a solid fifteen minutes at least.

“Oh,” you say. It’s your turn to flush a bit in embarrassment. “Uni assignment, due today. There was a spillage and, um, that doesn’t tend to bode well for artwork on paper.”

Cherry guy winces. “My condolences.”

You nod, allowing a moment of silence for the work of art your assignment could have been, before speaking again. “Thanks… and, well, that’s one good deed your little hellspawn has done. Seeing him wriggling around under there like he was about to burst from your chest definitely distracted me from my existential crisis.”

Cherry guy hums, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Okay. I guess I’ll put in a good word for him when we get home.”

You smile, whatever you were about to say next interrupted by the chime of the conductor announcing your next stop to be the destination you need to get to campus. Out of habit, you gather your things and stand, before pausing and turning your gaze to the pink-haired man still seated and wrangling a chaos being with the viscosity of YouTube slime. After having another look at him, it’s clear he’s a fellow university student. You’re guessing he was on his way to his classes when he discovered the stowaway in his bag. No doubt he now has to head back home and drop the ferret off before doubling back for his own classes.

You have a lecture at 8.30AM, but to be honest… you don’t want to spend the rest of the day miserable and mourning your assignment from the get-go. Talking with this random guy about his ratchet ferret has completely cancelled out your earlier feelings of angst, and it’s… nice. You kind of want to return the favour and help distract him from his misery.

The doors begin to shut, and the pink-haired man looks up in alarm as he notices you’re still here. “Wait, won’t you–“

“Yeah,” you say, swivelling on the spot and plopping down right next to him. You turn your head with a smile. “But that’s okay. Gotta look after my mental health and all, you know?”

He blinks at you for a second, before a warm smile breaks onto his face. He’s handsome, you notice from this close up. Almost painfully so.

“Yuji,” he says, by way of introduction. You return with your own name, and he beams wider. “Wanna hear about the time Mahito got into a fight with my brother’s other ferret Jogo?”

“Absolutely.”

[heronchildlove]

James and Matthew at the Shadowhunter Academy | requested by @the-r3vived

"Of all his new friends, though, he liked Matthew the best. Matthew always wanted to talk about the books James had read, or tell James a story as good as a book. He made obvious efforts to find James when James was not there, and obvious efforts to protect James when he was there. James did not have many nice things to write letters home about: he ended up writing letters that were full of Matthew." ~~**~~ "Excellent, I will be partners with James," said Matthew. "He reminds me of the nobility of the Shadowhunter way of life. He keeps me right. If I am parted from him I will become distracted by truth and beauty. I know I will."

[justanoasisimagines]

Eyes Forced Open

Summary; Jorah has feelings for you who would have guessed his jealously would have saved your life. Pairing; Jorah Mormont x Female Reader WordCount; 1,465 Warnings; Angst, Jelously, mentions of usual canon violence A/N; Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

Jorah observed as you followed Daenerys quietly as she interacted with her guests. You were a perfect picture as your dress flowed graciously around you. You were breathtaking.

The two of you had been with Daenerys from the very beginning. You'd traveled far and wide reinforcing Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne. Over time, Jorah liked to believe you'd grown close. Late-night discussions as you both attempted to figure out the next course of action. Seeking comfort from each other when times got tough.

Jorah was no fool. He could admit over time he'd developed strong feelings towards you. His heart yearned for you in ways he couldn't understand.

He'd questioned if you returned his feelings. He remained unsure. It is why he'd kept quiet and yearned for you in private.

Jorah examined the room searching for any potential threat. It was his duty to protect the Khalessi. He'd also made it his duty to protect you. He'd do it gladly even if it cost him his life.

Jorah stood with a hand on his hilt searching the room, when his eyes found something. You were standing posed while Daenerys interacted with one of the attendees, yet his attention wasn't fixated on her or the conversation.

It was on you.

Jorah felt unsettled as he focused on the interaction. Slowly biding his time observing it play out. Jorah could not allow Daenerys to be seen as weak. He would not create a spectacle.

The attendee moved a lock of your hair out of your face, Jorah could stand no more. Advances were one thing, physical touch was another.

Jorah made it over to you both in five large steps. Brushing your bare back with his fingertips, he alerted you of his presence. Glancing up you extinguished some of the jealousy coursing through his veins.

Despite the man ignoring Jorah, now he'd gotten closer, something appeared astray. The man's eyes were glancing around the room. Tension was rolling off of him like waves crashing on the shore.

A subtle nod of his head, Jorah alerted Ser Barristan. A fraction too late as the man drew his sword. Daenerys took several steps back as you gripped hold of her hand. The room suddenly diverted into chaos.

Screams and thundering footsteps while the scraping of swords unsheathing. Men moved swiftly to protect Daenerys. There were fights surrounding her. Blood and body parts smothered the once pristine floor.

Jorah fought seasonedly, yet he remained distracted as he attempted to keep you within his eyesight. He moved deliberately always attempting to adjust his position.

Jorah focused on defeating the enemy at hand, it was his duty to protect the Khaleesi. It's what continued to drive him. While her safety was paramount, Jorah was concerned about your safety and well-being. This is why Jorah cut down man after man smothered in blood, unsure who it belonged to.

He was fighting on pure instinct.

As he swung his body around sword swinging high in the air, his blood ran cold. Somehow you'd been separated from the group. Now three men were circling you like predators on prey.

Jorah released a mighty yell as he sliced down his opponent in two strikes. his focus tunneled in on you. Jorah moved with the purpose from opponent to opponent. Strike after strike. He fought hard and quick.

Nothing would hurt you.

Jorah's rage drove him. He took his anger out on the enemy. It was mere moments before he stood behind the three assailants.

"Get away from her!" The men faced Jorah in response swords drawn. Their attention was drawn to him. They played into his hand as he battled them. They were younger and quicker. Jorah was by far more experienced. Jorah is no fool. He knew the numbers were stacked against him.

"Jorah look out! The third man had sunk up behind him. While the second shoved you forcefully out of the way. You landed hard on the floor. It was the final straw, Jorah found renewed energy and brutalized the three men.

His energy depleted, Jorah collapsed to his knees. Jorah glimpsed over at you, dressed crimpled and smothered in blood, you were grasping your ankle. Pain creased your expression.

"Are you well M'lady?" Jorah asked between breaths.

"My ankle hurts" Jorah nodded. He needed to get you both somewhere safe. Jorah stumbled as he rose to his feet as he made his way over to you. Holding his hand out towards you, you took his hand and he lifted you into his arms.

Jorah stumbled as he carried you out of harm's way. He could rest soon. When you were safe. Jorah felt you bury your head into his neck. he wished it could have been in better circumstances.

Jorah could see Ser Barristan in the distance. He was so close. As soon as he was behind the double doors, he collapsed onto the ground. He dropped you and you landed to the side of him.

"Ser Jorah! Jorah! You dragged yourself towards him, you attempted to search for any sign of injury. Yet it was difficult to see as his shirt was now a stained bloodied mess. Lifting Jorah's shirt, you saw a mighty wound in his side. Ragged and red in appearance. You'd wondered how Jorah had managed to fight for so long.

"I need some help over here!" Soon, a Maester was attending to his injuries. Unable to do much more, a tear slid down your cheek. Concerned for the man who'd done everything to protect you.

Jorah slept for three days and three nights. You remained by his bedside for the majority Only leaving to freshen up. You did not want to be in a state when he awoke. He'd fought valiantly; the least you could do was show bravery while he recovered.

Pushing the needle through the fabric, you concentrated on the needlework. You'd been stitching the bear from Jorah's sigil. It made a difference from your usual flowers, but you found it beautiful nonetheless.

A twitch of a finger unseen by you. You continued to work until a groan broke through the silence of the room.

Your eyes snapped up, placing the needlework to the side. Jorah's arm twitched as you suddenly moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

Immediately you moved so you could go and find the Maester, yet Jorah's hand clasped around your wrist.

"Stay…with…me" Jorah croaked, you moved only a fraction so you could present him with some water. Undoubtedly he'd be parched after days of being in a slumber.

"Here, have some water. You must be thirsty." Resting a hand against the back of his head, you helped him lean up so he could take a drink. He drank slowly, soothing his dry throat.

"How long has it been?"

"Four days and four nights. You had everyone worried you would not wake" You replied, placing your hand on top of his, unable to meet his gaze.

On several occasions, during that time you'd been worried Jorah might not awake. You might never know his warmth or his smile. You'd never experience him walking alongside you whenever you were traveling together. It had taken nearly losing him for you to realize your feelings.

You were very much in love with Jorah.

"I am lucky to awaken to such a beautiful sight." Your eyes flickered up, as Jorah gave a weak smile. He'd longed to see your smile again. It was powerful enough to create a rainbow on a stormy day.

"You nearly died. Why would you put yourself in harm's way like that?"

"Are my intentions not clear enough? What of my feelings? I'd do it again to protect you." Jorah observed your eyes widen as he entwined your fingers together one by one.

"You can not possibly mean what I believe you do" Jorah beckoned you closer soon you were leaning close to his face. By the lines under your eyes, it was clear you had not slept a lot recently.

"You were the reason I approached you both. I could not bear another man touching you. When you are not his to touch. My heart yearns for you and I believe yours does the same, so why don't we stop pretending."

Jorah was right. Nearly losing him had forced you into a realization. Leaning down you pressed a gentle kiss onto his lips.

"You are right. Promise me you will not nearly die on me again." Jorah nodded as he brought your hand to rest directly on his chest on top of his heart.

"I will see fit to protect what belongs to you now." Both of you smiled as you got lost in one another. Sometimes it took an incident to bring two oblivious people together.

[saphstories]

Requests! Yay! :D I have an idea for a Shadouge scene that's been in my head for months and I think you'll like it. Here you go!

Shadow has been avoiding sleeping for far too long and Rouge decides to take matters into her own hands. Meaning she slips something into Shadow's food at dinner to make him intensely drowsy. Cue some fluffy interactions as Shadow tries (and fails) to fight off the impending sleepies.

Lullaby Sleight

Dark circles clung to ruby eyes; scarlet striped onyx quills slightly disheveled from frustrated fingers scuffing through them. Multitudes of empty paper cups littered the desktop, all ignored in favor of scouring the scattered papers printed with the official GUN seal, classified information that Shadow had been attempting to decipher for the past several days with little success. A growl of frustration rumbled in his throat, and Shadow furiously ripped his latest sheet of scribbled notes from the pad and tossed it to the wastebin—already overflowing with other such crumpled balls of yellow paper—where it toppled to the floor with the others.

Leaning against the doorway of his bedroom, Rouge watched with a frown, concern and frustration heavy in her green eyes. Since receiving the intel reports from Commander Towers a week ago, Shadow had been borderline obsessed with breaking the ciphers, as if the author had issued him a personal challenge. He rarely left his desk, only briefly teleporting away to answer nature’s calls or retrieve more coffee. He would refuse any meals, citing he needed no distractions from his work, and Rouge knew for a fact he hadn’t slept a wink since receiving those reports.

Observing him now, watching his eyes flutter shut and snap open, watching his lips twitch with the desire to yawn but his jaw clenching to halt it, watching his knees bounce but refuse to even stand and stretch his restless muscles…Rouge made up her mind. Enough was enough. Abraham could fire her all he wished, but those ciphers could wait. Shadow’s health couldn’t.

The bat nodded to herself, a plan formulating in her mind. She knew Shadow, knew him well enough to know that if she forced him to bed now, he would fight her every step of the way, and she’d inevitably lose. He would ignore her, argue with her, and go right back to that desk and those cipher’s out of pure stubbornness, just as he had before. No. The conventional way wouldn’t work this time. Rouge would need…ulterior methods to get Shadow to rest like he so desperately needed. Rouge smirked. Well, she was always up for a challenge, and always had a trick or two up her sleeve. Years of working with Shadow meant she was well-versed in navigating the Ultimate Lifeform, and she planned to use all her knowledge of Shadow to get her way.

So, for the moment, Rouge left Shadow at his desk, headed for the kitchen, and began setting her plan into motion. With any luck, Shadow would be too distracted to pay enough attention to her to stop her.

#

Shadow’s ears twitched at the soft knock on his door but otherwise ignored it. He almost had it cracked, he just needed-

A well-manicured hand rested on his desk, covering the pages from his view, and his pencil was carefully tugged out of his hand before he could react. Indignant scarlet eyes shot up, enraged by the interruption, but the blasted bat merely stared at him with a smirk and a raised brow, twirling the pencil between the fingers of her other hand. Her slender body leaned against desk, her warmth permeating his cloud of focus, and Shadow ignored it to glower at her and held out his hand. “Give it back, please.” He commanded.

“No.” Rouge impudently tucked it behind her ear, out of his immediate reach, and Shadow’s lip curled. “Dinnertime, handsome.” She proclaimed.

Shadow scowled. “I’m busy.”

“Not anymore.” Rouge disagreed, nudging him. “You need to eat, and being the generous bat that I am, I made one of your favorites.”

Shadow ignored the scent now so obviously wafting in through the open door from the kitchen, and the ensuing growl from his empty stomach. “I’m not hungry.” He lied. “I need to work.”

“You need to eat.” Rouge countered. “I slaved away in that kitchen for you, Mr. Robotnik. Are you going to let my benevolent efforts go to waste?”

Shadow opened his mouth to snap back at her…and paused, the aromas of parmesan chicken and alfredo pasta and honey wheat rolls hit his scent glands. His stomach rumbled again, and his mouth watered. Rouge really did cook his favorites, and Shadow knew how much she detested cooking anything more complicated than microwaveable mac and cheese. His ears flattened against his head, and his eyes lowered to the floor. “Then…a quick break shouldn’t hurt.” He muttered, standing and refusing to meet Rouge’s eyes and missing the conspiratal and victorious smirk that flashed across her muzzle.

#

Rouge wiped her mouth with her napkin, humming in the satisfaction of both a full stomach and a successful plan, observing with a secret smirk as Shadow practically licked his third plate clean. “I hope it was passable?” She leaned forward, ears pricked and eyes bright.

Shadow covered his mouth with his fist, hiding the belch that almost burst forth by clearing his throat, but nodded at the bat. “Delicious.” He commended her. “For someone that loathes cooking, you certainly excel at it.”

Rouge waved a hand. “Basic pastas like chicken alfredo are simple enough, and the rolls were premade. Nothing too difficult, but I’ll still be leaving it to you, Mr. Ultimate Chef.” Shadow snorted and shook his head.

He sighed. With a pleasantly full stomach, going back to work was as unappealing as a bonfire in Shamar during the dry season. The striped hedgehog wanted nothing more than to curl up in his chair with his current book and listen to his new vinyl on the record player, but… “Duty calls.” He sighed and stood up.

Rouge merely smiled at him. Shadow frowned, alarm bells ringing in his head at the…mischievousness in that smile, but even they sounded muted. He blinked, then blinked again…then yawned. Lethargy clung to him like a warm blanket, and Shadow shook himself. “What-?” He snapped his eyes open and threw a wide-eyed look at the still-grinning bat, putting the pieces together in his mind.

Rouge cooking his favorite pasta. Rouge insisting he come and eat. Rouge insisting on fixing his plate for him. The grin on Rouge’s face now. “You didn’t.” Shadow hissed.

“I did.” Her tone was smug.

“Rouge!” Shadow was never eating anything prepared by her or coming from her hand again. He was going to inspect every meal, every drink, every snack thoroughly from now on. “You can’t-!”

“I can and I have.” The smirk dropped from her face, replaced by solemn concern. “Shadow, you have to take care of yourself. This is the first time you’ve properly eaten since Towers gave you that assignment, and I know you haven’t slept since then, either! The circles under your eyes are nearly as dark as your quills. You need to rest, and if you won’t do it yourself, then you leave me no choice but to force you.”

“By drugging me?!”

Rouge snorted. “Oh please, you drama king. I know that drugs have no effect on you. A natural supplement that your body naturally produces however,” She held up a little plastic jar and waved it at him before tucking it back into her pocket.

Shadow opened and closed his mouth, indignant that Rouge would pull such a slight on him and embarrassed that he didn’t catch it in time to stop her. He shook his head and turned away from the table. “I’m going back to work.” He grumbled. He may still have some time before the melatonin took hold and forced him to unconsciousness, and he was going to use all the time that he had. Perhaps he could even fight it off. He staggered through the kitchen and down the hallway, shaking the fuzz out of his head. His mouth split open in another yawn, and as he leaned on the doorframe of the living room, he could barely make his legs work.

A slender body pressed against his side, a gentle hand curling on his shoulder. Rouge. Shadow blearily blinked at her, her green eyes swimming pools of soft emerald, and Shadow leaned into her warmth with a noise of discontent. He nuzzled sleepily into her shoulder, loosely wrapping his arms around her waist. A soft chuckle reverberated in his ear. “Alright, handsome. Bedtime for this Ultimate Lifeform.”

“Don’t wanna.” Shadow mumbled. “Wanna read…listen to new record.” He blinked pleading eyes at Rouge, disoriented ruby on mirthful green.

Rouge chuckled. “You need to sleep, hon.” She reminded him. Shadow pouted, and Rouge paused. “How about a deal? If you agree to go to bed, I’ll get your book and read to you.” She offered.

Shadow eyed her suspiciously. “What about my record?”

Rouge shook her head. “The record player is in the living room, hun, it’s gotta stay there. You can listen to it tomorrow, I promise.”

Shadow slumped against her. “Fiiiine.” He groused. Rouge wrapped her arm around his waist and guided the half-asleep hedgehog back whence they came, and Shadow practically flopped onto his bed, snuffling into his pillow. Rouge couldn’t resist and sniggered at the photo evidence now stowed away in her phone. Just in case.

“Alright, hon, you think you can get settled while I get your book?” Rouge prompted. An unintelligible grumble answered her, but the hedgehog shifted, so she darted down the hall to collect her half of the bargain. There, resting on the little oak side table beside Shadow’s wingback chair near the window, was the book in question, and Rouge snatched it before marching back to Shadow’s room. She found him sitting slouched on the edge of the bed, chin against his chest fluff, his breaths steady and bordering on sleep.

Rouge shook her head, hiding her smile, and bent down beside him. She slipped the skates off his feet and neatly laid them beside the bed for easy access the next morning, then stood and gently pushed on his shoulder. “Come on, hon. Down you go.” Though he grumbled, Shadow followed her guidance and made himself comfortable, watching her with sleepy eyes.

“Read?” He yawned.

She waved the book. “As promised.” Shadow smiled at her and patted the space beside him. “Shadow, I don’t think-,”

“Won’t be able to hear you from down there.”  He interrupted.

“Shadow, you have perfect pitch.” Rouge reminded him. Shadow pouted and sat up, crossing his arms even though he yawned again.  She rolled her eyes. “Stubborn hedgehog.” And before she could question if this was even a good idea, she jabbed at his shoulder. “Down, or I’m not coming up.” She threatened. Shadow flopped back down onto his pillow, and Rouge crawled up the mattress until she was seated comfortably at his side, her back against the headboard and opening the book to the marked page. “Lucy felt a little frightened, but she felt very inquisitive and excited as well.” Rouge began, then paused as she felt the bed shift, looked down to find Shadow lying on his side towards her, his half-lidded eyes focused on the book’s pages, his ears tilted sideways, and Rouge hesitantly combed her fingers through his quills. Shadow’s eyes fluttered, and she smiled softly at the quiet but contented purr rumbling deep in his chest. Rouge returned her attention to the book, but her fingers remained on Shadow’s head, stroking his quills, scratching his ears. “She looked back over her shoulder and there, between the dark tree trunks; she could still see the open doorway of the wardrobe and even catch a glimpse of the empty room from which she had set out…”

Hours later, when dawn brought the first rays of sunshine, instead of rising with the sun, Rouge the Bat grumbled and clung tighter to her pillow, snuffling into the fluffy white fur of her best friend’s chest and humming contentedly when he purred against her forehead, nuzzling in his sleep against her hair and curling his arm tighter around her. However, that did not stop the E-Series badnik from snapping several shots of photographic evidence to showcase later in opportune moments before lumbering down the hall towards the living room and the television, which would be solely his to enjoy for the first time in ages.

(Welcome to this Day Masterpost!)