#send me love readers

[maiaspen]

Hey “Oblivion Gin” readers!

I swear to the Force that I am working hard on the finale for you! 💚 My writing confidence took a bit of a hit last month. I am human. I go through feels, sometimes inconvenient ones.

Thank you to all of my readers for continuing to support and encourage me. I’m hoping to have the story finished this month. 💪

Here’s another little teaser for you. The scene picking up where my last teaser left off. Here

I also have glorious supporting art by @kana7o to treat your eyes 😏

Please remember that this is a very rough draft, what ultimately makes it onto ao3 will be heavily scrutinized 🧐 these are just the raw words as they pour out of me. 

Thank you all for your support! I can’t wait to share the full finale with you 💚💚💚

xo Maia

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Chapter 9 excerpt…

Anakin doubles his already quite doubled efforts to hustle, weaving pedestrians and commuters on citibikes and landspeeders. He’s aware that his surroundings are Coruscant-rush-hour-level-of-loud, and that it’s daylight; but only because Orea Dea’s singular sun has teamed-up with the Force to highlight his Jedi targets.

Entering the crowded spaceport, Anakin decelerates to a sneaky jog. The Force insists that he assess the situation before drawing his lightsaber and trimming Fisto’s tentacles (and testicles).

The pair of Masters are standing – huddled shoulder-to-shoulder– next to a cargo freighter that looks like it’s being prepped for take-off.

To Anakin’s tremendous relief, Obi-Wan’s posture is strong. He’s handsome as ever, fair head and facial-hair have been groomed to perfection. He’s dressed in his boots and tunic, which the medical staff was kind enough to launder. All of the sweaty-oily-mulchy- bloody souvenirs from their crab droid and ass face battle royales have been cleared away. Obi-Wan looks the epitome of a proper Jedi Master. But Fisto . . .

The droid wasn’t exaggerating.

Anakin gasps as bewilderment sweeps like a blizzard through his mind, whiting-out thoughts of all else but what Fisto is wearing. Or rather– not wearing.

(Thank you @kana7o for this Fisto sketch💚)

The Nautolan is clad in a darkened leather toga – a toga that looks like it’s been sized for Master Yoda. The skirt portion brushes his thick thighs, barely concealing his dignity. If there is a gust of wind – or if Fisto even raises his arms to stretch – everyone in this spaceport will see his cock and balls! Unless he’s wearing underwear, which Anakin strongly doubts. And the green bastard is wearing the toga like he’s doing it a favor. His muscles are bursting out of the garment. Those chiseled biceps and pecs belong on a Holomovie screen (probably a porno), not a public spaceport. There are younglings milling about!

Has the Nautolan been working-out obsessively the whole time they’ve been hospitalized? Gaining muscle and losing modesty?! Even from eight meters away Anakin can count his eight abdominals.

The ‘outfit’ includes knee-high strappy sandals, which accentuate his strong calves, and even– is that a collar? And, yes, Fisto is wearing a collar. A leather one with a metalloid loop. It’s like he’s begging to be latched by some kinky leash.

Master Kit Fisto is hotter than fire. He’s center-of-a-sun, liquid magma hot. How his toga hasn’t burst into flames, Anakin does not know. And, right now, Obi-Wan is reaching upward . . . laying a hand on that bulging bicep and squeezing—

“MASTER!” Anakin screams as though Obi-Wan is touching liquid magma! With a mighty Force-leap he closes the distance, landing before the Masters and snatching Obi-Wan’s hand. Anakin holds his Master’s hand to his chest like he’s saved it from a brutal roasting.

Obi-Wan makes a face like Anakin has pissed in his morning tea.

So, Anakin counters: pushing his bottom lip out, going for the most adorable pout he can muster. The kind of expression that always softened his mother’s irritation when he was late for their evening meal. To Anakin’s surprise, Obi-Wan actually blushes. Really blushes. Anakin is certain his rouge can be seen from outer space. Did touching Fisto actually burn him?

Suddenly, Anakin can feel his Master’s Force signature again – vibrating and sizzling like it’s super-heating. But Master Kenobi quickly regains control of his dermal blood vessels and his shielding, retaining the aurora of one who is cool and centered.

“I’ll take this back, thank you,” Obi-Wan says as he pulls his hand from Anakin’s grasp. He then offers a small but earnest smile, adding: “It’s good to see you up and about again, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Master. I can say the same to you–” Anakin starts, intending to ask what-in-all-the-hells is going on, when Fisto clears his throat.

The Nautolan grins broadly, teeth glinting like pearls under the sunlight. Anakin orders himself to keep looking at Fisto’s teeth. Not lower, not lower. “It is indeed good to see you both up and about,” Fisto declares. “I spoke with Master Windu this morning. The Council is sending a team to sluth-out what happened to the senator’s shuttle. They will arrive tomorrow, at which time you two are to take their transport back to Coruscant. I’m afraid our little shuttle is officially out-of-commission.”

Anakin processes Fisto’s words out loud. “So. Master Fisto, you won’t be . . .” he pauses. Pushing the obnoxious optimism from his voice is like trying to shove against a stubborn bantha. “ . . . you won’t be joining us on our voyage to Coruscant?”

Fisto smirks as though he is a stubborn bantha. “No.”

Anakin’s signature surges like a double nova! He barely resists cartwheeling all over the spaceport! He and Obi-Wan will be traveling back to Coruscant together and alone.

And are they spending the night here alone, too? Or is Fisto in his ‘little slut get-up’ going to be the third wheel?

“What’s with the, um,” Anakin waves his hands vaguely about Fisto’s ensemble. “The whole . . . whore look? And where did you get that outfit anyway? Are you going somewhere dressed like that?”

Obi-Wan cringes at Anakin’s words, but Fisto’s already broad smile only widens. “I’m being deployed. Immediately,” Fisto points to the nearby cargo freighter. “It’s an undercover mission. I’m being smuggled to Nal Hutta as a pleasure slave. I’m to be sold upon landing to my . . . target. I cannot divulge any further details, you understand. And, Skywalker, the Council has wardrobe sources on nearly every Republic planet,” Fisto says as though Anakin should know that. Which he does, he just didn’t know that the Republic’s sources kept skimpy togas on hand.

The weight of Fisto’s words take a moment to sink into Anakin’s brain, but when they do . . .

Anakin shakes his head, wanting the weight to be gone. “Hold on, the Council is sending you alone?”

Fisto nods. “They are.”

“Kit is quite capable of handling himself,” Obi-Wan interjects carefully, sensing Anakin’s . . . what? His concern? No. No way. He’s not concerned for Fisto safety. He’s fucking thrilled that Fisto is going away. Far, far away.

Anakin scoffs, though the sound comes out as more nervous than he’d intended. “Yeah, of course. I mean, obviously. But . . . is the mission dangerous? Are you going to have to perform sex duties and–?”

“Anakin. Kit cannot share any further details with us,” Obi-Wan scold-reminds, though Anakin can now sense that his Master is concerned. Obi-Wan turns his attention back upon Fisto, and smiles with warm reassurance. “I am glad for this opportunity to see you off, Kit.”

“Me too,” Anakin says, then turns an accusatory glare upon his Master. “Though, how come neither of you were planning to include me? I couldn’t sense you, Master. And if I hadn’t returned to your sickbed when I did, and interrogated that awful droid, then I may not have even found you on time.”

Obi-Wan lowers his voice as though trying to sooth a hostile assailant: “I needed to have a private word with Kit–”

Anakin intercepts his Master’s defense. “A private word, huh? Is that the only private thing you needed to have?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow fractionally, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Besides, Anakin, the medical droid reported that you were occupied.”

Uninterested in Obi-Wan’s paltry excuses, Anakin turns his accusatory glare upon the scantily-clad Nautolan. “And you! Couldn’t you have changed into that on the freighter instead of schutta-strutting around this port?!”

Amusement flickers over Fisto’s signature and within his eyes. “The droid crew has been programmed to thoroughly shackle me upon boarding. While I am an apt-multitasker, I’m afraid that I cannot undress and redress with my arms, legs and neck bound.” Fisto looks to the cargo freighter, which is flashing its ‘five-minutes-to-launch’ warning. He reaches behind himself, and Anakin only now notices that Fisto is wearing a leather satchel. He rummages within the satchel until he finds something that makes his signature ping with delight.

“Ah, here,” Fisto pulls out the half-empty bottle of Oblivion Gin. “The Council has granted you both the evening free. You have orders to relax, and I am ordering you to . . . indulge,” his grin thins into a cheeky smirk. “Enjoy.” Fisto hands Obi-Wan the bottle. Obi-Wan accepts the gin as though Fisto is giving him a writhing whip-snake.

“Oh, oh . . . really, I cannot accept. This is far too . . . generous,” Obi-Wan almost sounds flustered.

“I insist,” Fisto pushes the bottle at Obi-Wan with oomph, and he begrudgingly accepts. “A shot or two will do you good, my friend. And you,” Fisto’s dark eyes find Anakin’s, flaring with equal parts challenge and warning. “You may need three or four shots.”

“ALL ABOARD!” A mechanical voice blears loudly from the cargo freighter. “WE WILL DEPART IN TWO MINUTES.”

Anakin opens his mouth to say something . . . say thank you? Say goodbye? Say good luck? But it’s suddenly like all of this planet’s air has been sucked away into space, and no words come out.

Anakin feels Fisto’s large, cool hand on his right shoulder, offering a brief squeeze of reassurance. Then he watches as Fisto grants Obi-Wan the same gesture, which Obi-Wan returns.

“My comrades,” Fisto says those two words in a way that makes Anakin’s heart-clench, though he doesn’t know why. “Our physical bodies do not have forever,” Fisto’s gaze sweeps from Obi-Wan’s to Anakin’s and back again. Under the brilliant sunlight Fisto’s blacker-than-black eyes are not black at all. They are a warm honeyed-gold, flecked with blue from the sky. “Time is short, and most of ours is filled with brutality and turmoil . . .” he flashes those too-perfect teeth. Again. “So, go on then, fill as much time as you can with happiness.”

“ALL ABOARD! WE WILL DEPART IN ONE MINUTE.”

“May the Force be with you,” Fisto bids them, then turns on his sandaled heels, tentacles bouncing, and sprints for the freighter.

As Fisto rushes away his toga skirt flares upward and –

By the Force.

Fisto is definitely not wearing any underwear. And his bare ass . . . well, it looks just as holoporn-worthy as the rest of him. The Nautolan probably possesses the two most flawlessly firm green globes in the galaxy. And, really, Anakin expected nothing less.

Several nearby senients squeal in horny delight – like they’ve been flashed by some celebrity heartthrob. An older female Rodian swoons and sways on her feet like she’s about to faint. Fortunately her traveling companion steadies her, though his jaw has nearly dropped to the walkway.

Anakin is surprised to hear himself laughing, and, damn, it actually sounds and feels . . . good. “May the Force be with you, too, Master!” Anakin calls after Fisto, straining his voice over the whirring engine and roaring thrusters.

“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan barely whispers. Anakin doubts Fisto even heard him, though he’s certain that the Nautolan feels the sentiment.

Anakin and Obi-Wan watch as Fisto’s tentacles disappear up the closing loading ramp. Within three heartbeats the freighter launches into the bright sky, fading away toward the outer rim.

Anakin’s mirth fades along with the freighter. A new concern has wriggled into his brain. “Does Fisto even have his lightsaber? He can’t possibly be keeping it inside that satchel. The first thing the slavers will do is search his belongings.”

Obi-Wan frowns thoughtfully. “He would not be storing it in the satchel, no.”

“Then where . . .”

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My next update with be the final chapter! 🥲

[cloudedgalaxies]

ANYWAYS Idiyuu is Hades and Persephone conspiracy:

Persephone is not from the Underworld. She is called back to the Mortal Realm eventually because she has to return. Yuu is literally from another world. They are not suited to Twisted Wonderland, and are nothing like Idia has ever seen. They have to go back eventually.

Hades is probably one of the few TWST boys to have a “canon” spouse (at least in Greek mythology, which Hercules’ Hades is obviously based on). On top of that, Hades and Persephone is the love story between death and life, isolation and abundance, ending and rebirth. Idia is a gloomy, pessimistic boy who has been condemned to be the keeper of the Underworld. Yuu is a kind, gentle prefect who has been there to help and has helped everyone they know, again and again. 

Night Raven College has been in a ‘winter’ for all of its history. Everyone is hostile to everyone, no one wants to cooperate or work together, and every single person there has some ulterior motive. In comes Yuu, who is a breath of fresh air. A new perspective. A new season. They bring ‘spring,’ showing people that they can bloom. They can harbor feelings that aren’t cruel. They can do things that aren’t harsh. And slowly, they start to thaw. Flowers of friendship and something gentler bloom. Yuu is there to help pull the boys from their darkest moments to see the light again. Idia is no exception.

I think that the way Book 6 was set up makes Idia and Yuu seem a lot more meaningful honestly, though I'm probably reading way too into things lol. Yuu originally goes to the Island of Woe to save Grim. They don’t particularly care much about what’s going on with Idia—they just want to get Grim back. But then later, once they realize what’s going on, they do. There isn’t much, if any, personal connection to Idia’s overblot like there was with all the others. Yuu doesn’t have to do anything to help. And yet, they still do. Even after Idia basically kidnapped Grim, they still help him. They still try to end his winter.

Persephone, in many forms of the myth, didn't originally go to the Underworld willingly. But eventually, she came to love Hades, and they were happy together. Idia and Yuu have no reason to care about the other at first. But they eventually do, after everything that happens and everything that brings them together.

Hades and Persephone are in a constant push and pull. Persephone has to leave because if she stays, winter will never end. She does not want to leave, because she loves Hades. Yuu has to leave Twisted Wonderland, because they have a home beyond it that they need to return to. And yet, they don't want to leave because they love Idia. Idia doesn't want them to go, because it finally feels like spring again. But the seasons have to continue in their cycle, so what can they do?

Also, I think it’s really funny and really beautiful how Idia and Yuu’s first meeting was probably the Ghost Marriage event. This guy who thinks he has 0 rizz ends up having to be saved by some strange new isekai'd student and their gang of potential suitors before he gets his first kiss and promptly dies afterwards. Idia, the boy surrounded by death, is saved by the prefect who seems to be giving everyone a new chance at life. Imagine how poetic it’d be if Yuu and Idia end up getting married in the end, except now neither of them are going to die and they have the rest of their new lives together. There will be winter, but there will also be spring. The cycle of seasons will continue, but flowers will always bloom. They will always return to each other.

[ghost-proofbaby]

can y’all imagine sending one of those things where a girl texts her man about having a bad day or wanting coffee or something and he replies by sending her an insane amount of money (like $100+) to eddie, and just being like “why don’t you ever do this for me? 😐” as a joke

and then the man just sends you one (1) fucking dollar.

and when you’re like “REALLY??? A DOLLAR???” he just goes “I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME IM BROKE”

it would become an inside joke, him randomly sending you the smallest amounts of money possible and just going “buy yourself something nice 😏” or “don’t spend this all at once baby” to be a little shit

god i love eddie munson

[morphids]

false pretenses, hange zoë

so im absolutely obsessed with this thank you for putting this idea in my head😰😵‍💫wish i could tag u anon </3

original request here [X]

pairing: college au - engineering student!hange x student!female reader - they/them pronouns for hange, afab anatomy for both

summary: the best way to get what you want is to do it yourself right?

warnings: listen this is real slutty ok, explicit sexual content 18+ minors dni - loser lesbian!hange (hange has that autistic nerd rizz), its always the quiet ones, r thinks she’s slick af, poc friendly- no physical descriptions of reader, kinda-bratty/switch!reader (r gets v subby) top-leaning!Hange (im a top i swear), strap, dirty talk, nicknames, munch activities, fingering, finger sucking, cunnilingus, praise, brief asphyxiation, i cant think of anymore

wc: 4.9k (not proofread)

an: excuse the shitty engineering attempts im not a stem girl!! hope y’all enjoy <3

—

You watched Hange from across the library, gazing over their features as they frowned. Brow creased as they solved equations that your professor had so kindly left everyone to complete after your seminar. Sometimes you’d catch their teeth nip at their bottom lip, in pensive thought.

Hange wasn't around many people, not that you saw anyway, usually kept to themselves or with the same two friends you'd seen them with. Their head often deep into a book or back hunching over a desk working some form of assignment, headphones placed over their hair.

Looking over their face, you studied Hange's strong jaw, the way their slender hand held up the weight of their head as the other scribbled down notes into their notebook. The sluttiest black tank top layered underneath an unbuttoned white dress shirt, draping over baggy brown straight-leg pants. Hair up with so many layers resting against their cheeks, framing their lovely face as multiple strands plumed out from within the hair tie. Their amber eyes lay under small, thin, glasses atop their nose. God, that nose. Perfect to sit on. Perfect to ride to holy heaven.

If it wasn’t clear, you'd had a bit of an eye on Hange for the last semester, they had transferred from a different university a while back. Upon seeing them for the first time, you wanted to speak to them. Their slightly introverted nature had made you keep your distance, though, but it was getting harder to fight the urge to go talk to them. I mean, how weird would that be? Hi, I know you don't know me but I've been obsessed with you since you transferred here? Yeah right.

No, you had to be more creative than that.

You needed a valid reason to speak to Hange so that you didn’t come across as the world’s biggest creep. Luckily for you, Hange was by far the smartest person on campus. Grades always incredibly well above average, scoring top marks in every assignment they’d submitted. So much so, that the professor had pretty much already taken them in under his wing. Due to their helpful nature and extensive knowledge in a fair range of fields, your professor was preparing Hange to be his TA after graduation. Oftentimes, passing Hange over to tutor students in his classes that lacked the grades that were expected of them at this stage in the course.

And even more luckily for you, you seemed to be really struggling with the new module. Or at least that’s what your alibi was. Who needed to know that your grades had actually been consistent passes? You were pretty strong at your theory, but you had only slightly slacked off in your classes during your professors teachings of mathematical methods and linear equations. It couldn’t hurt to get a bit of extra assistance to fill in the missing gaps.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you walked up to Hange, they barely noticed a presence beside, music blaring through the headphones, until your shoes came into their peripheral vision, spotting the black boots right beside the chair.

Their gaze followed up your bare legs, eyes slightly widened as they realised you were indeed about to induce a conversation with them and not just wandering past to get to an actual destination. They removed one cup of their headphones off their ear, holding it up with their fingers so they could listen to you. You noticed the multiple bands resting above their knuckles, bulky metallic rings varied with different patterns and weldings.

“Oh, um— hi?” Hange spoke, slightly confused, they had been deeply distracted into their equations, not anticipating someone coming to speak to them. Definitely not you, of all people.

“Hey, um— sorry to ruin your flow, but I was wondering if you could,” hesitance struck you, feeling your carefully planned script fall apart under Hange’s gaze, eyes still wide and nodding their head as a prompt for you to finish, removing the headphones fully to rest the band on the back of their neck. Why are they so hot, you thought, fumbling over yourself. “If you could tutor me with this module, you’re the smartest person in this place according to Mr. Fritz,” You joked, softening your words with a meek giggle. An attempt to make not make it seem like a big deal even though you could feel your heartbeat thump in your ears and throat.

“You can totally say no, of course,” you quickly added, after realising you didn’t actually offer them an out, not wanting to pressure Hange into having more on their plate than there already was.

Hange’s eyebrows pulled together, lips split as a wash of suspicious perplexity strained their features, only for a second before returning to normal. Back to their friendly warmth with an amiable smile stretched on their lips.

“Sure, I’d love to help,” Their eyes held yours, you to let out a faint breath of relief. “I’ve got a few things to do on campus for a while, but, I can meet you after?”

“That’d be great, thank you!” You offered to exchange phone numbers for ‘easier communication’ to plan around Hange’s schedule, before duly proposing that they come over to your dorm, as the library closed after five o’clock, and your roommates were gone for a week-long field trip.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on the way, then,” They smiled, an amused smirk etching itself on their lips before they could help it.

“That’s perfect, I appreciate it,” You beamed, “I’ll, um, leave you to your equations,” You stepped away, turning around to make your exit from the library. Hange didn’t miss the way your eyes fell onto their lips for just, perhaps, a little bit too long than was deemed socially conventional, or the way you seemed to grow flustered as they stimmed with their fingers. Hange’s gaze followed you as you walked on, trailing down to your exposed legs underneath a short skirt that hung over thick, sinuous thighs. Hange looked back down at their notebook, as they chuckled, shaking their head with endearment at your crafty deceit.

Hange certainly isn’t stupid, due to their proximity working with the professor, they were painfully aware of the more… problematic students in Mr. Fritz’ class. You were never one of them. In fact, he had even used some of your past assignments as example guidelines for the newer students. Needing help with the easiest part of the module? No way were they believing that.

—

A knock at your door, and you smoothened the fabric of your clothes, hoping to reduce any lingering creases or maybe even just to calm your nerves. You had tidied up, making your bedroom look more presentable and less like a cove of disordered chaos.

Opening the door, there stood Hange, handsome and ravishing in all their tall glory. A hand reached up to stabilise the one strap of their backpack that hung on their shoulder, the other strap dangling behind. You tried to stop, you really did, but you trailed over their figure, lured into their nonchalant stance that just exuded casual confidence as they looked back at you, an eyebrow cocked up.

Breaking contact, you welcomed them in, Hange dropped their backpack onto the floor to relieve the weight of all the heavy textbooks from their shoulders. Hand raising back up to remove the headphones from their neck, placing them atop their bag, hooked on the top handle.

You sat at your couch, leaving enough space for Hange to comfortably place themselves on. Trying to be discreet, you watched as they took off their dress shirt, hanging it on the arm of the couch, you presumed Hange was using the layer against the slightly cooler breeze outside— you couldn’t lie, you were kinda glad to see it off. Hange’s bicep was well sculpted against their black tank top as it melted into toned forearms. Tanned and strong. There was a brown cord bracelet dangling from their wrist as they rested it on their propped up knee. God, I’m no better than a man, you thought.

“So, what’d you need help with?” Hange pushed up their glasses with their ringed index finger, you wondered if that was something they often did subconsciously before beginning a task.

“Linear algebra and probability theory,”

“Hmm,” Hange nodded, a short tug at the corner of their lips, leaning their elbows on the top of their thighs, “Yeah, that stuff is pretty hard, but,”

“What did you score on the last exam?” Hange turned their head your way, amber eyes meeting yours, with a devious look.

You froze, shit. It felt like a trick question, surely Hange didn’t know the score you totalled? Surely, Hange didn’t know that you were just seven marks from a full score? It almost felt as if they were luring you into a trap; to see if you’d double down with the lie and continue with this facade or if you’d crack and admit defeat. Lose-lose either way, you’d end up embarrassed or having to make yourself look incredibly foolish.

Voice breaking in your throat, you held eye contact. Whereas Hange’s was steady and sharp, yours felt like you were just exposing yourself further the longer you remained silent.

“I-I don’t remember,” A neutral answer, you decided, totally not because you had been rendered nonverbal, clearing your throat and seeing the way Hange’s lips stretched fully into a knowing smirk.

“Hmm, you don’t remember,” They were definitely mocking you now, voice low, humming and melodic as you felt the thunder in your chest beat. You looked down at your thighs, fingers fiddling with a loose hem on your skirt.

“Getting the impression I wasn’t invited over for some homework,” They chuckled, leaning back against the support of the couch, arm stretching over the top.

One sentence and it was out in the open, the illusion you thought was so deceiving completely shattered as your true intentions came to light. Yup, embarrassing, just as you thought.

“So, why don’t you tell me the actual reason you invited me over,” If the last sentence was a stab to your confidence, this one was an extra twist in the wound. Hange was smirking at you, the mirthful look in their eyes showing you that they were relishing in your embarrassment and flustered face.

You swallowed a deep breath, feeling your skin ignite both with anticipation and nerves so lethal you almost wanted to bury yourself underneath the seat, never to be seen again.

“I, uh—“ you mumbled, the script had truly crumbled, you had no plan B apart from just spewing out the truth. You’d die before you had to do that.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Hange hummed, leaning on the back of the couch, as their thighs came to spread, “Why’s that, hm?”

The unlevelled confidence that radiated from them just seemed to further your own unease. It wasn’t often you felt that way, usually being the one to initiate flirtations with others. Yet, everything about Hange just seemed to drag you into a state of bashfulness, totally out of character as you failed to make eye contact.

“Will you look at me, love?”

You ceded, eyes meeting, as you let out a sigh. Hange placed a testing hand upon your bare knee, tentative runs of their thumb over the skin. Soft, Hange thought. The feeling eliciting shivers down your spine, warm waves down to your core, reducing you to a state of feeling unreasonably touch-starved. Hange gazed down your thighs, deliciously covered by the fabric of your skirt, moistening the edge of their upper lip with the tip of their tongue, before flickering their eyes back to you.

“What is it you really want?”

Fuck. A short gasp escaped your throat as their hand trailed up, fingers reaching underneath the hem of the short skirt. Hange was toying with you, no doubt about it.

“I… I wanted to speak to you,”

Humming, their hand moved further, “Why?”

“I found you…” you paused when their fingertips skimmed over your panties, your thighs twitched. “C-captivating, needed a reason to speak to you,”

Hange chuckled, as they leaned forward to reach the bottom of your ear, your breath hitching as their lips ghosted over the skin.

“You could’ve just asked, pretty,” Hange’s voice whispered against your ear, as you closed your eyes. You were so down bad.

“Think I haven’t noticed you, huh?” One light kiss at your skin, “Think I haven’t seen the way you stare at me?” Another kiss, ever so gentle that you almost melted into them, biting back a needy groan. Hange’s hand squeezed at your thigh, fingers towards your centre, just barely grazing over the fabric.

“I mean—god, darling, if you wanted me to fuck you that badly all you needed to do was ask nicely,” Hange’s teeth nipped at your lobe, drawing out the skin with it.

“So, ask me nicely,”

Another squeeze at your inner thigh, and no longer could you withhold the groan that you’d been holding back. You were fighting so many demons right now, hesitant to verbalise your inner desires. Hange remained near your ear, licking at the soft skin. Fuck it.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Your voice came out so much whinier than you expected, used to hearing that tone from others, but never from yourself.

“Aren’t you gonna say please?” They chuckled, dragging it out, teasing. Hange eyed the pout at your lips, the slight frown in your brows—could tell you were used to getting what you wanted easily, to not submitting. They planned to fix that.

“Fucks sake—please, Hange,” You pressed your thighs together, trapping Hange’s hand as they gripped you, as a prompt for them to do something, anything.

“Better.”

With their other hand, the one not currently trapped in between your legs, Hange grabbed at your hip. Kneading over your hip bone, where the dainty zip of your skirt dangled. The sensation caused your thighs to loosen autonomously, as Hange opportunely released their hand an inch. Slipping underneath the hem of your damp panties, fingers teasing at your slit, collecting your slick.

“You this messy just for me?” Their sinful, warm words made you shiver, goosebumps down your arms as they hit your ear. You wriggled, skirt rolled up to your hips, exposing your panties. Messy, indeed. You were growing impatient as you attempted to roll your hips into their hand, craving contact. Hange’s fingers recoiled, pushing from your slit pulling the fabric with as they tutted. Tightening their other hand on your hip once more, stilling your movements.

“C’mon, surely you’ve figured out how this works by now,” Hange’s words sounded so sweet, if it wasn’t for the absolute torture lurking underneath. Eager to tease and play with you for as long as it would take for you to actually listen and cede. With a brattish groan and a sigh, you nodded.

“Words, darling, use them.”

“Y-yes, shit—all for you, Hange.” Voice breathy, avidly impatient. Your core leaked more slick when it clenched, totally ruining your panties as it clung to your folds. The sight absolutely delectable. “I need you so bad—can’t take it,”

There it was. Finally.

“Was that so hard?” Hange hummed, a satisfied smirk creeping over their lips as they teased a finger down your slit, only slightly breaking through your entrance. Pressing your lips against theirs as you whimpered into the kiss, biting at Hange’s plump bottom lip.

“Now then, be a good girl and stay put.”

Hange pressed their finger fully into you, soon adding another two once they saw how keenly you were taking them already, walls wet and ready. Your head fell into Hange’s neck, meek moans spilling from your mouth as their slender fingers hit the back of your squishy walls.

Without removing themselves from your warm heat, Hange cased a hand at your ass, pulling you on top of their lap. Using their clothed thigh to rut their fingers up even further, other hand forcing your hips into gyration against them. The friction from their jeans hit against your sensitive clit and with their fingers inside you, you were a hot mess already. Needy and desperate from their heartless teasing.

“Ah—that’s…fucking good,” You hissed, as Hange lapped their tongue down your neck, before sucking, branding you with many dark marks leading down to your chest.

Catching the hem of your shirt, you threw your arms up to discard it, revealing your breasts to the room’s cool air, heaving up and down with heavy breaths. Hange almost moaned at the sight of you, shirtless with a short skirt pooled around your hips, draping over their knees. Of course you weren’t wearing a bra, they thought. As Hange thrust their fingers into you, their mouth wrapped over your nipples, flicking over them with their tongue. Nipping lightly over the peaks. You arched your back into them, feeling yourself grow closer, the tension in your abdomen building as you bit your lip.

Your hips lost their rhythm, aimlessly chasing the feeling of Hange’s fingers deep within you. Languid gasps and breathless moans escaping your lips. So, so close to your peak until the sensation was suddenly stripped away, leaving you totally empty. Hange removing their fingers, you could hear your own slick cry as they did, your walls tensing.

“Wha-“ You were a bit dazed, a truthfully a little annoyed, you had been so close.

“You’ve not earned it yet,” Hange laughed, clearly relishing in your frustration. They liked this, liked making you destitute, left wanting. Hange had every intention of fixing that sugared insolence they could see within you. Had every intention of tearing it inside out.

Hange reached down to their leather belt, maintaining eye contact as they unclasped the metal peg, lifting you up off their knees slightly to pull their jeans down, before removing their tank top. Their chest rose up and down, bound beneath a black binder. You could see their own centre soaking through their underwear. You ogled their figure, groaning as your sinful thoughts worsened. The kind of imagination that would surely commit you to purgatory indefinitely.

Hange pecked your charming pout away, before bringing their soaked fingers up in front of your mouth. Spreading your lips open with their thumb, shoving it inside so you could taste your own slick on it. Their other fingers followed suit.

“Clean up your mess,”

Hange watched you, your lips bruised and plump as they split to allow entrance for their index and middle finger. Sucking your juices off them as you moaned, gagging as they hit the back of your throat. Brows pinched and eyes brimmed with tears from the hot burn. Hange’s thumb pressed against your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open, a line of drool slipping out from the corner of your open mouth. Hange would kill just about anyone for you, they thought. Irreversibly addicted to you, your needy eyes and the way you fell to follow their orders.

“So beautiful,”

Hange hung over you. Looking into your glassy eyes, with the hold against your jaw, pinky finger at your chin, they held your mouth open, spitting on your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You did. Quite happily as you groaned, muffled as your mouth was stuffed. Feeling yourself grind against Hange’s bare thigh, your core clenching around nothing as you yearned for the feeling of their fingers back inside you. Your inner thighs completely soaked, spreading it all over Hange’s bare legs.

“Such a good girl—so obedient for me,” They hummed, relieving their attack on your mouth, taking their fingers out and grasping the back of your neck, “Wonder if anyone else has ever slut you out like this, hm?”

You shut your eyes, leaning into their touch as you whined out a passive ‘No’, shaking your head to Hange’s question, not fully trusting the strength of your own voice. Fuck, you were totally gone, lost in salacity and paralysed by your own thirst. Almost brain-dead as your desire thumped in your ears, and throbbed at your core. About to explode from your own ardour as it’d eagerly been building up. Hange was divinely addictive, a substance you should never have risked trying. You could never possibly go back now, too ruined to ever possibly go to anyone else. Totally and utterly hooked on Hange.

“Aw, look how docile you are now, pretty.”

Hange kissed at your neck, coming back up to meet your lips again as you mewled against them.

“H-Hange— please, need more,” You squirmed against their lap, “Can’t take it, need to cum so badly,” You were finally begging, hesitation leaving you to fend for yourself as Hange had you right where they wanted.

“Yeah? How do you want it, baby?”

In between strained breaths, you pointed to your drawers. Strategically placed next to the couch, as Hange reached over. Chuckling once they saw your strap in its resting place.

“This what you want?”

Nodding, you rutted against Hange’s thigh, forcing some friction to rub against your clit.

“Please, fuck,” You sobbed, visions of Hange stuffing you with your strap forcing you to squeeze your thighs against Hange’s lap.

“Since you asked so nicely,”

Hange gently nudged you off their lap, to allow them to slide the harness over their thighs. You sat beside them, legs folded underneath yourself. Hand placed delicately on the side of their head, pressing sweet kisses down the skin of their neck as they adjusted the harness to fit around the circumference of their thighs. Hange shivered under your lips, eyes shutting as they indulged in the sensation for a moment, cursing as you began to lick under their lobe. You were delightful.

Hange’s hand danced along your thigh, fingers streaming past your slit as they groaned at how unbelievably wet you were.

“You’re fucking sublime,” They groaned, dragging you over their lap, hands ripping both the skirt and your ruined panties off your legs. Hange laid their back on the couch, folding your bare thighs over their jaw. You bit your lip in keen anticipation, it was almost as if you had manifested this.

“Fuck—Hange, I’ve dreamt about this for so fucking long,” Your legs twitched above Hange’s face, as a radiant smirk shone on their lips.

“Yeah? Thought about this?” Their hands clung around the plush skin of your ass, fingers squeezing tightly. They pulled you on to a steady stream along their face, teased a lick up your folds before your slit was pressed down against their flat tongue, lapping up your slick as their nose rubbed over your clit.

“F-fuck, so much—was just like this,” You gasped as you rode Hange’s face, watching dumbly as their face contorted with gluttonous solace. Eyebrows creasing as they focused on eating you out. You crumbled, finally feeling some release after being teased for what felt like many unbearable hours. Truly, it was better than you could have imagined, Hange’s fly-aways catching on their cheeks and the sides of their face as they grew dampened, your slick slapping their cheeks and fogging up their glasses from splatters and wet heat.

Resting your hand on their knees for stability, your fingers acted on their own as you came to reach underneath the strap that was dangled in the air, waiting to be used. Your fingers came to meet Hange’s folds, sliding easily past their sensitive labia, nearly as wet as your own, aching. Having been unbearably turned on since they saw your body’s visceral responses to them.

“That’s—so fucking hot, shit,” You whimpered, lost in the feeling of Hange’s insistent tongue slowly flicking deep against you and the way their centre seemed to just suck your fingers right in. Hange let out a muffled, guttural grunt into you, the vibrations making you clamp your thighs tight against their head. You almost felt apologetic, if it wasn’t for Hange, who seemed to get riled up by the very prospect of being choked out by your luscious thighs. Oxygen supply decreasing as amber eyes rolled into the back of their head, toned arms pulling you closer against them. Leaving behind marks on your skin that outlined where their fingers had been digging in.

Whilst simultaneously, you were plunging your fingers knuckles deep into their entrance. Your body leaning back as you bucked your wrist against them, fingers curling inwards against their walls. Hange’s eyes were stuck on you, watching as your body rocked against their mouth. Head hung back and breasts perked up as beads of sweat trickled down, illuminating your skin, the fine hairs around your stomach standing upright. Looking properly, they spotted a few moles scattered on your stomach, your lips were swollen as they bit out mutters of curses under your breath. Still trying to return the favour even despite feeling ruined. How divine.

The sight alone brought Hange to their knees, hazy pleasure erupting through them as they felt their body tremble. Truthfully, Hange seldom let people touch them, opting to typically give rather than receive, yet they felt like giving you permission to do whatever you wished with their body. They were so hypersensitive, extra responsive under your ambrosial touch. Debauched gasps melted into your core, still lapping at your slick as they rode through their own peak. Shuddering, as they seized their thighs against your wrist.

“Did you cu-“ Your excited, breathy voice was cut off by Hange grabbing your wrist, ripping your fingers out of themselves from overstimulation, their centre tensing with arousal dripping down their folds. Hange nodded as an affirmative, you could tell they were slightly stunned. Hange held your wrist against your back, elbow folding over as they lifted themselves up. Disconnecting your slit from their mouth, and moving you around as you returned to facing each other, your legs resting over their lap once more.

Hange’s spare hand caressed your jaw, uniting your lips together as they melded over yours. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, slipping their tongue into your mouth. You whined as they angled the tip of the strap over your folds, your slick lubricating the plastic. Hange was frenzied, desperately needing to see you stuffed with the silicone length. Elated from their own high, their words grew more depraved.

“Need to fuck this pussy,” They rasped, voice at the lowest frequency you’d heard from them, “Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,”

Your lips parted as Hange slipped the tip inside, stretching your walls out as you gripped onto their shoulders. Hissing as you adjusted to Hange burying themselves into your tender flesh. Sinking yourself down on the strap as your hips undulated against them, pressure building up again within your abdomen as Hange fucked the strap deep into you. Tip massaging over your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that same spot that made your breath catch in your throat and your vision go white.

“Fuc—keep going, pleas—please,” Mewling, you shut your eyes, eyebrows furrowing as your nails came to scratch at Hange’s back. Your words coming out in broken sobs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you were split apart on your own strap.

“So full—Hange—“

Hange sucked against your neck, then licking over the sore spots.

“Taking me so well,” Hange praised, voice sweetly laden with saccharine honey, “Sat so pretty on my cock,”

“ngh—Shit-I-I’m gonna come,” You were shaking, thighs trembling and abdomen twitching. Finally about to release after being so cruelly edged twice. The expression on your way was picture-worthy, fucked out and wanton.

“That’s it,” Hange kept rutting up into you, muttering praises, “Come all over me, baby,” A nibble at your earlobe and you were done for. Your climax reached you, tensing up your spine, mouth agape as you shuddered, face contorted.

“You look so pretty when you come,”

Your core tightened as you spilled out your release; the force pushing the strap out from inside you, squirting all over Hange’s lap. The hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

Hange didn’t relent just yet, making sure to fuck you through your peak so you could ride every second of it. When you finally stilled, your head fell onto Hange’s neck, murmuring softly against their clavicle. Sighing, you lifted your head up, greeting Hange’s half-lidded eyes with your own. A beat and Hange reconnected your lips together, gently kissing you as you came down. Mind still fuzzy and reeling. Their hands caressed your hips, thumbs running down your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Hange whispered, pressing a tender peck down against your swollen lips, “Wish you would’ve talked to me earlier,”

You laughed, breathy and uneven, as bashfulness struck again. Once the cloud of lust had settled, you were left with nerves, that doe look back in your eyes as you weren’t quite sure what to do now. What if Hange never wants to see you again? After all of this, you don’t think you could handle being emotionally ghosted. It was unlike you entirely, but the interest in Hange remained, simmering as you relished in their tight hold— a hold that almost promised you it wasn’t going to leave. You dared to dream.

“What are you thinking about?” Hange muttered, resting their forehead against yours, eyes closing.

“Um…” You hummed, hesitant, “This, I guess, I’m a little… nervous,”

“I guess I am, too,” They chuckled, pressing their head closer, hands still setting your skin aflame, “But, i-if you’d like to, I wanna take you out,” Pausing, “On a real date, that is, not under false tutoring pretences,”

You pulled your head back, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to stretch, an attempt at masking the hopeful beam in your eyes.

“I’d love that.”

—

listen u guys 😭 someone pls sedate me or give me a lobotomy cos what am i meant to do when i PINE over 2d characters

let me know if u guys enjoyed <3 i love to read ur comments and inputs

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

okay hear me out- SAGAU but with sea monster Foul Legacy

sea monster Foul Legacy who smells the golden blood in the water during one of his hunts, hastily swimming to catch the body floating in the sea. he's never seen you in person before, but oh- you're so familiar.

he brings you to shore, away from any cities- oh no, you're bleeding- and carefully pats your wounds with seagrass, fretting as he waits for you to wake up. what should he do- you're obviously the Creator, there's no doubt about it- why in the world are you so hurt?! why were you sinking into the sea, why hasn't Teyvat been celebrating your return, why-

Legacy chitters in surprise when you shift, letting out a few coughs and cracking open your eyes. with a strangled scream you shoot upright and try to scoot away from him, only for Legacy to lower his head and whine sadly. of course you wouldn't want to be around him, he's a monster. but your movements eventually slow, breathing heavily as the cuts sting and sear, and after a moment he tentatively dabs more seagrass against the injuries, trying to show that he means no harm. when he's sure that you won't struggle and accidentally hurt yourself, Legacy gently nudges you into a sitting position with a gentle trill.

he has to hold himself back from just staring in awe. his god, the Creator, is right here in front of him! but he can see the way you shiver, the gleaming blood staining your skin- you need care, not worship. so Foul Legacy shifts closer, gently settling his scaled tail over your legs and pressing his cheek against yours, feeling how you shudder in his arms like you've been running and screaming for years. you stiffen at first but quickly melt into his tender embrace, sniffing as relieved, exhausted tears begin to drip down your cheeks.

on that night, a god finally found an ocean of safety to call their own.

[starsinmylatte]

Saw your "Veritas with a baby" idea, and. I feel like he'd be the kind of guy to avoid baby-talk. Like when the baby throws their bottle, he'd just pick it up and tell them that "Yes, the bottle still exists. It may have left your line of sight, but it is still there." It makes for a great way of getting a baby to sleep, especially when he lectures them on some complicated science stuff.

Ooooh, yes! I don’t think Veri is ever the “true baby talk” kind of guy, but he would know that using some characteristics of baby talk would help his child learn faster. So, I could see him speaking in complete sentences but slower and with more enunciation (especially when alone with baby).

I also think that around 16-18 weeks of pregnancy, when infants can first hear and respond to sounds, Veritas would suggest to his partner that they spend time reading to their child. It’s a tradition that he makes time for every single night, tucking his partner into bed and softly pulling them in close, caressing their stomach gently as he reads to the baby in the low light of their bedroom. Even if he has to be away on Intelligentsia guild business, he calls every single night to read to his family.

This only feeds into his uncanny ability to calm the baby once they're born. If Veritas’s partner has to be away and can't take baby with them, he baby wears while teaching and the child just snoozes away while their daddy explains quantum physics to his class.

Bonus: His baby inherits Veri’s eye color and “stare of death”, so when a student says something dumb they get two pairs of reddish-pink eyes glaring in their direction.

[kokokoula]

Heeello, how r u? I hope u r doing well ^^

This is an emergency request soo pleaseee write it asap 🙏🏽

Its abt tsukishima kei’s gf who’s very stressed out abt her final exams that she forgets to take care of herself

a/n: i wish you all the best for your exams!! i hope this will be comforting in some ways. i fr tried my best to finish and make sure it still seems alright. just some headcanons on it:

tsukishima leaves a cup of either hot or cold water, whichever you prefer, beside you on the table as you study, and he refills it when he sees it empty.

it doesn't matter if his final exams are around the corner too, and as much as he believes his studies are important, he prioritises you over it.

if he notices that the water level hasn't changed after some time, he slides it over till it's right in your line of sight. "drink, pipsqueak."

if you tell him "later", he'd drags you away from your work by the chair leg and shoves the cup into your hands.

he leaves you alone once you drink at least half the cup of water, but not without a kiss on the top of your head and a squeeze on your shoulder before heading to refill it.

it's harder to get you to eat food though, let alone actual meals, so he resorts to leaving you comfort food or something filling alongside with the cup of water next to you.

if you refuse to eat, he'll again pull you aside to eat, and in some extremely rare times, begrudgingly feeds you himself.

"the things i do for you." "don't do it then, i didn't ask you to." "...no."

you two share earpieces with one of his many playlists running.

he likes to rest a hand on your thigh when he's studying, only pulling away if he really needs to use it, but be assured it always returns back to its place.

everyone knows tsukishima is ruthless as a tutor, with his impatience and all, and it's not like he bothers to change. he doesn't aspire to be a teacher anyways. but for you, he tries to be nicer.

"not so dumb now, are we?" and his signature smirk.

when he takes a break from his books and notes, he makes you take one with him too. it's not optional.

"you've been studying for the past few hours already. study any more and you'll actually self destruct."

he either pulls you by the wrist or distracts you with a kiss. you obviously prefer the latter.

wait wait wait imagine him standing behind your chair and he tilts your head up by the chin (albeit roughly knowing you and your stubborn ass) and kisses you YKYK

ok but continuing on, he pulls you to his bed and just cuddles with you, with the earpieces still on.

you'll rant to him as he plays with your hair in silence, with a bit of input here and there.

if you breakdown from the stress, he's there holding your face in his hands and wiping away your tears with his thumbs, placing a few butterfly kisses on your forehead, your cheeks and your nose, again in silence.

he doesn't know what to say during these times, and sometimes, he doesn't have to. his actions are enough.

[nottsangel]

https://www.tumblr.com/rafesmuse/743661178308427776/rafe-cameron-the-type-of-boyfriend-to-keep-your?source=share

this!!! but you’re Sarah’s best friend. Rafe being a dick constantly finds a way to flash your nudes in front of her. One day she asks when you got that tattoo because she’s never seen it before. You think no one but rafe should be able to see that tattoo, when the realisation hits you turn bright red and you definitely shout at him about it later that night but he’s too busy trying to undress you to listen

link!

omg pls he’s such a fucking dickhead sdjdkdkd like that man does not give a fuck! he’d be with sarah in the house when he ‘accidentally’ drops his wallet with your nudes inside of it and acts like he doesn’t notice so she picks it up for him. “rafe you dropped your wa- what the fuck is this?” “oh whoops, im just so clumsy, aren’t i?” he’d reply sarcastically with a smug smile on his face as he snatches the wallet from sarah’s hand.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo” sarah would later bluntly say when you’re hanging out together, completely catching you off guard. “what? i- i mean, i do, but how do you kn-“ your eyes instantly widen when the realisation eventually hits.

so later that night, you storm into rafe’s room, shouting, while he just lazily sits on his bed, scrolling on his phone. “RAFE CAMERON, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD. why the FUCK did sarah see those pictures?!” “jesus, relax baby, it was just an accident, a’ight?” he snaps back as you now sit next to him on the bed, still glaring at him with an infuriated expression. “rafe! those are meant for your eyes only!” he’s too busy now attentively pulling the traps of your top down, not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore. “yeah yeah, i’ll be more careful next time, got it. now, c’mere and let me make it up to you.”

[frudoo]

John Price with his chunky baby and spunky baby mama 🫶

Warnings: Spit-up, normal baby things!!

Fluff ahead 🤍

“Better stop kickin’ them legs, little lady,” John huffs, squishing the giggling infant’s round cheeks softly to make her lips pucker out.

Her incessant babbling and the playful growls that come from your husband’s mouth coax you into the nursery. As you lean against the doorframe, you have to stifle a laugh—there are about twenty used wipes scattered about the changing table, and the rowdy little babe is kicking off every fresh diaper John tries to put on her. Suddenly, her cute little coos and gummy smiles turn into tiny grunts and a concentrated face. Your eyes widen, trying to warn your husband.

“John, she’s about to-!”

“Bloody hell!” He groans, holding a diaper over his weapon of a baby’s bottom.

The laughs don’t cease this time, covering your mouth as your chest shakes with spiteful delight. You walk over to your grimacing husband, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He sighs in defeat, grabbing what seems like the thousandth wipe and starting the whole process over again.

“Think it’s funny, do ya?” John jokes, turning around momentarily to give you a playful glare.

“I think it’s hilarious, actually. She gets it from her dad,” you shrug, crossing your arms and cooing at your chunky baby.

“Ha, ha,” John mocks dismissively, giving his baby girl a stern look as he lifts her legs up yet again. She replies with a belly laugh, and his pursed lips turn upward into an amused grin as he slides the fresh diaper beneath her bottom.

“Got a pair o’lungs like her mum, though,” he smirks, fastening the sticky tabs to the front part of the nappy.

That earns him a soft smack to the back of his neck, making his shoulders dance with each chuckle he lets out. John zips up the pink camouflage onesie he’d put on her and lifts her into the air, pretending to groan like she’s the heaviest thing he could possibly lift. She babbles and stares down at him adoringly for a moment before staring off into space and chewing on her fist. He lowers her into his bent arms, cradling her and tapping her nose with the tip of his finger.

“Here, give her to me, I’ll go get her a teething ring,” you suggest, holding your arms out to your chubby little infant.

John laughs heartily as the sassy infant glances at you through her peripheral vision before returning her attention back to her old man. The heart-eyes she gives him make you pout, bottom lip quivering in mock offense.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I guess she just prefers her daddy,” he beams, lifting the baby up into the air once more, but making one crucial mistake—pressing his hands into her soft tummy.

You raise an eyebrow as John continues to brag and boast about the tiny human’s favoritism. He misses the way her squishy body jiggles with a silent burp. You don’t.

“Ain’t that right, lovebug? Daddy’s your very fav-” he stops mid-sentence when the waterfall of rancid milk spews out of the wriggly baby’s mouth and right into his own.

Wordlessly, you take your daughter (who seems rather proud of herself) into your arms and clean her up with a burp rag, leaving John open-mouthed and horrified in the middle of the nursery. You snicker as you kiss the noisy babe on her forehead, cooing to her proudly. With a final glance over your shoulder, you smile innocently at your husband with one last suggestion.

“Should probably brush your teeth before you come back downstairs.”

[sturnina]

Jealousy

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!reader

— tags;; mentions of a physical fight & injury, injury tending, fighting, pet name (baby), no use of yn, toxic habits (overprotectiveness)

— wc;; 1282

— author‘s note;; my take on overprotectiveness since i hate the „touch her and you die“ trope, hope you enjoy <3

He did it again.

You don‘t know how to feel as you silently drive home, Chris in the passenger seat, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging in your mind.

He did it again. He hit a guy just because he looked at you weirdly.

Don‘t get me wrong, you love his protective side. It is hot, honestly. The way he always makes sure everyone knows you‘re his girl, the way his arm sneaks around your waist at parties, the way he gets rid of other boys trying to flirt with you.

But this… this wasn‘t protective, this was violent. He hit a guy, for the second time this week. The second time in four days.

Yes, the guy was rude and obnoxious. Yes, you felt uncomfortable around him. Yes, you were relieved when Chris came to your help after the guy wouldn‘t listen to your No’s.

But Chris‘s punch, it wasn‘t protective. It was violent, brutal, merciless. And of course, the guy hit him back, right on his cheek.

When you glance to your right, you can see the dark patch forming on your boyfriend‘s cheekbone.

You arrive home — your house, not the triplets‘ —, and you go to fetch the first aid kit immediately after entering through the front door. Chris trails in behind you, unbothered by his split lip and bruised cheek.

He just sits down at the kitchen table, knowing you will take care of him. Expecting you to.

You take an ice pack out of the refrigerator and settle down next to Chris, all in complete silence. You can‘t bear to hear his voice now, or your own. You‘re afraid it might give your thoughts away. And your eyes, your eyes will surely betray you, so you keep them focused on the ice, the bruise, your hand, anything but Chris‘s eyes. That he is looking at you constantly isn‘t helping.

But eventually, he picks up on your uncharacteristically silent behaviour.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Everything alright?”

You swallow thickly, knowing your voice will give in the second you try to speak. So you remain silent. For exactly three seconds, dabbing a cotton pad at his split lip, before Chris speaks again.

“That dick won‘t bother you anymore.”

Of course, he thinks that‘s the problem. Of course.

“That‘s not what I‘m worried about,” you mutter, stoically keeping your eyes on his injuries.

“You‘re worried about me? Oh, baby, you know I can take care of myself,“ Chris says warmly.

“That’s not… I am worried about you, Chris. You need to stop this. But-”

“Baby, you know I won‘t,“ he mutters, slowly tilting your chin up with the hand that isn‘t holding the ice pack. “Those pricks deserve it.“

“Besides the fact that no one deserves to get beat up, that‘s not what I mean,“ you say, pulling away from him. “You need to stop or you‘ll end up in serious trouble.“

“I won‘t,“ he says softly. “I promise. I just want to teach them a lesson-”

“You‘re not listening to me, Chris!”

“What are you talking about, of course I‘m listening to you,“ he says, his brows furrowing.

“No you‘re not,“ you scoff. “I see the way you look at the guys you‘re going to hit. I‘m not blind. I can see that you want it.“

“Of course I want it,“ Chris says, laying a hand on your arm. “I need to protect my girl-”

“That‘s not what I mean, and we both know it,“ you snap, quickly closing your mouth and taking a deep breath. “I am just an excuse. Don‘t deny it!“

He already opened his mouth but closes it again, worry and confusion clouding his gaze. “Baby-”

“No. Listen to me,“ you interrupt him, trying to keep your tone calm. “You like the confrontation, don‘t you? The adrenaline? But you can‘t see… You don‘t see the way it‘s hurting me.“

Chris‘s expression falters for a moment. “I don‘t- what are you- what do you mean? I don‘t understand…“ he stutters.

“No, you don‘t,“ you say softly, pulling your arm out of his grip and standing up to bring more distance between you.

He really doesn‘t. He doesn‘t understand the way your heart clenches every time a guy even just glances at you in public. He doesn’t understand the way your thoughts start racing even when someone is just walking in your direction. He doesn‘t understand the way you‘re terrified of talking to anyone while out with him — out of fear to trigger his jealousy.

The air feels thick as you look at his expression, his desperate eyes, the bruise on his cheek and his still-bleeding lip.

“Explain it to me,“ he says, “please, what am I doing wrong?“

“You don‘t see the way you‘re hurting me, hurting everyone around you,“ you whisper, your voice just as thick now. The words feel like they‘re stuck in your throat and you have to force yourself to speak them. „I hate seeing people hurt, especially you. I hate seeing you get hurt, and knowing- knowing that it‘s because of me.“

“That‘s not true, baby, I‘m-”

“Please, Chris,“ you whisper, tears collecting in your eyes, “Please let me finish. I hate avoiding to go- to go out in public with you just because I can‘t… I can‘t trust you not to lash out at someone, I hate b-being scared every time someone looks at me or talks to me, I- I just… I hate seeing you angry, I hate seeing you violent, I hate seeing you like that… And yet you- you keep doing it, n-no matter how o-often I ask you to stop…“ Your throat is clogged, your breaths are laboured, your eyes are watering, and you physically can‘t speak anymore, the words having drained out of your head. But there is one sentence left, one you‘re terrified to even think.

And Chris is just standing there, the words burning in his mind, on his skin, digging into his flesh while he tries not to rush to hug you because he knows, he knows it wouldn‘t help. And then he feels the tears running down his face, and the pain ripping through his chest. You don‘t trust him. You can‘t trust him, you said it yourself. You‘re scared of him.

Fists clenching at his sides, he lets that sink in. Everything he‘s done for you, everything he thought he‘s done for you, crumbles under the heavy weight of reality, the realisation that he‘s been hurting you all along.

He steps forward, raises his arms, and sees the way you cross your arms. A shielding gesture. Chris thinks he can hear his heart finally shatter at that, after slowly cracking over the entire conversation.

There are no words he can use to explain himself. He knows he should apologise. But how do you apologise after terrifying your girl over and over again without even noticing? What words are there to express the mixture of frustration, fear, and self-hatred he‘s feeling against himself?

Chris drops his arms to his sides.

He turns around, and leaves.

And you are left alone. The front door slams closed, but you don‘t even flinch. Your mind is full, and so are your eyes, your ears, everything is clogged with memories, everything is breaking inside you, but you are relieved.

You are relieved, because how could you bear his overwhelming presence any longer, with one last question, one last sentence burning on your mind, a question you can‘t ignore but also can‘t speak, not in front of him?

How can you be sure he will never lash out at you? How can you be sure that you will never be on the receiving end of his fist?

masterlist

[spectr3inl0ve]

bruce wayne and his controversially young gf but jason jokingly calls bruce 'cradle robber' and unknowingly makes him upset!!! bruce and reader uncomfortably laugh it off while babs scolds jason!! like poor brucie genuinely is enamoured by reader but is filled w sm guilt over the age gap and jason isn't helping :((

[angelscovee]

𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑗𝑟𝑙

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ☞ ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴀɪɢᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇ�� ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ? ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜᴛᴜʙᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ sʜᴇ ᴠʟᴏɢ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ

⇝ ᴘᴀɪɢᴇ ʙᴜᴇᴄᴋᴇʀᴇ x ʏᴏᴜᴛᴜʙᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⇝ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

⇝ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

"hey y'all!! so today i'm doing a day in my life cause its been a while since i did one of those." i set my camera down on my vanity as i sat down to do my makeup.

i started doing my makeup as i talked about the things i had to do today. i was blending my foundation when the door to my room opened. i smiled as i looked at the camera.

"we have a special guest today ya'll!!" i said as i turned my camera towards paige as she waved at it.

"today im gonna be having my girlfriend join me today in todays vlog for the first time ever." i said with an exaggerated gasp.

once i finished my makeup i changed into my outfit as i gave the camera a full look at it.

"im wearing a shirt that i got from hot topic, i thrifted these jorts, and i'm wearing some black converse." i spoke to the camera not noticing the way paige was blatantly staring at me.

as i walked back up to my camera to pick it up i could see paige looking at me through my mirror, i turned around with a smile as i stared at her.

"do i have something on my face?" i asked with a raised eyebrow knowing shes probably been looking at me like that for a while.

"nah you just look.. really beautiful." she said looking at me admiring how i looked as i shook my head with a smile looking away from her a blush rising to my face.

"okay anyway, today is gonna be a sort of chill day, i just have a few errands to run not to much like last time." i said talking to my camera as paige and i walked to her car.

i set down my camera in front of me as i got inside the car.

"alright ill see ya'll when we get to target bye!!" i said as i shut off the camera buckling in and storing the camera in my bag.

"when you're about to post the video tell me so i can be the first one to watch and like it." i turned my head towards paige with a smile on my face.

paige has always supported my youtube career since we started dating. everyday im thankful i have someone that actually supports me.

"don't worry i will, ill watch it with you too, i heard theres gonna be a cute blonde in the video." i said with a grin as i could see a smirk start to form on her face.

"oh yeah? guess we'll have to watch it then, heard that this really pretty girl is doing a day in the life vlog." she stated as she kept her eyes on the road.

my eyes were completely focused on her though, the way her eyes focus on the road, the way her eyebrows slightly furrow when shes concentrating.

gosh shes perfect. i don't know what i did to deserve someone like her but in glad i did it.

i really am the luckiest girl aren't i. i kept on staring at her as if shes the last thing i was ever gonna look at. after about five minutes i finally spoke up.

"i'm the luckiest girl, with a girl like you." i said catching paige off guard as i saw her blush.

i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with her. the love of my life.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Ok but polygot reader who's like a pro singer who sings im all the languages they know all across teyvat cuz y not <3

Having a duet with yunjin and xinyan

Harmonising with barbara

Singing for nilou's dance

I WANNA SING LULLABIES TO MY CHILDREN SO BADLYYYYYYYY

Orah my beloved genius you <333

LMAO SORRY I JUST HAD TO USE THIS GIF

Orbit: Short Headcanons-ish

Stars: mostly Mond/Liyue characters, mentions of other singers/musicians

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known. & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

U get to sing a solo with Barbara yes!!

but u know whats more important? whos more hype abt ur songs/diff languages???

Venti.

Venti is.

Venti is vibrating with barely contained manic energy

poor guy is sick of always being familiar with songs, nothing is "new" to him, but ur songs?? they're from a different world, and he can't know any of them!!!

Venti's has a surprising amount of strength in those noodle arms bc ur suffocating in his hug rn-

He is constantly begging asking you to sing for him, sing in public, he'll put you on the Barbatos statue hands just so everyone can hear you,

constantly pleading politely requesting if he can lay in your lap under the Windrise tree while you sing slow songs

Hogs you from Barbara, Klee, and anyone else in Mondstadt who would want to personally hear ur singing/duet with you lmao

u had to bring in the cavalry (Rex Lapis/Zhongli) to get a week away from him lol

luckily the retired god was more than motivated to bring u to Liyue, after all he spends a fair amount of his time listening to operas/music

DUETS DUETS DUETS!!

Yunjin blew ur eardrums out of excitement the first time u copied her singing perfectly, kidnapped u for an entire week of festivities where u were the special singer guest <33

Xinyan looked at you like u hung the stars in the sky for both playing a little guitar/singing to her rock music (as she's used to instrumental rock so far bc its been just her)

Qiqi, Klee, Yao yao, Diona all ask (in their own ways lol) for lullabies,

they each wanted you to sing to them every night but it wasn't possible... so u got cloud retainer to invent a machine to record some lullabies you've sung in each of their countries languages so they can sleep 🥺<333

and the dancers.

you cannot escape the dancers.

Nilou, yunjin, eula, gaming, ayaka, doesn't matter, u cannot have peace.

u will sing for them all at some point, u will have repeated performances, u will attract crowds, u will be going on a world tour

(Lyney has also kidnapped u for his magic shows to show off ur singing in French)

☆

finally scheduled a post and am able to rlly get at my asks more frequently now thank goodness

im so ready to open ask box again 😭😭

hope u guys have a fun Tuesday!! :)

Safe Travels 0rah,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[that-spiderdog]

What do you think of your sweetheart angel ? I call the reader’s spider name the spiderangel .

"Ah, my sweet angel... I love them so much... They're so pretty and cute and hot and nice and kind and awesome and incredible and lovely and adorable an-" [ He keeps rambling about his partner for a little too long... ]

[ennabear]

What do you think Abby's breath feels like? For example, when you're talking face to face or when she leans in to kiss.

so soft and sweet!! i imagine when you’re talking face to face with her she’d be confident enough to lean in close and make you blush, but when you lean in to kiss her she sucks a breath in because she gets butterflies.

when she’s sleeping, it’s probably fanning out to tickle your neck or your back depending on the position you’re cuddling in (and she won’t sleep without her cuddles, obviously.)

when you’re having sex, her breath prickles your flaming skin as she pounds into you. her mouth sucks hickies and punctures bite marks into your skin but once she pulls away, that sweet sting is lit ablaze by her warm breath.

also as a bonus, i think her breath smells like mint 24/7. she probably brushes her teeth like 4x a day, flosses, mouthwash, gum/mints, etc. her hygiene is CRAZY good. yeah, it’s probably because her dad drilled into her about the benefits of having good oral health as a kid and scared her with stories of kids who lost all of their teeth, but her dentist loves her anyways. <33

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

in my head jason doesn’t have proper causal clothes. like bro is constantly wearing a more chill version of the red hood fit. it’s even worse when he has his motorcycle helmet with him because it is also red. he’s got poor civilians like:

“omg! is that the red hood—oh no that’s just the wayne kid that like came back to life or something.”