#the ones I buy have little random facts inside

[daffi-990]

FAVOURITE FACT TO SHARE

Okay so atm my favourite fact to share is that when you sweat, that stinky smell isn’t actually the sweat itself, but the bacteria on your skin.

These bacteria feed on odorless chemicals released in sweat, which they then convert into thioalcohols—which is responsible for the smell.

[itneverendshere]

okay we know rafes help reader in situations like with electricity and no car and such. but maybe it’s the first time where he knows he’s in love with her and she’s the one for him, where she doesn’t go to him for any help. and it’s maybe like not having enough money to buy groceries for herself, or how she walks to work still bc she can’t afford gas. and he gets so mad, and she thinks it’s an inconvenience to him. but it’s actually because rafe will always be there for her, and no matter what the problem is , he can fix it just for her

you got me overnight - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(bartender!reader universe) warnings: first fight and confession 🫂

Rafe knew convincing you he was worth a shot was the easiest part of your relationship.

You were absolutely perfect, made to be his. He could picture you right now, the way you’d smile at his stupid jokes, the warmth of your hand in his, or how you’d send him those random "good morning" texts that hit him like a gut punch every time. You were everything. It wasn’t just the way you looked, although that obviously had him floored, but the way you thought about things, the way you cared about people. It was all of it. You gave a shit.

That was something new for him.

He never thought he’d get someone like you, someone who made him want to be better. It was months later, and he was hooked.

Totally gone. You were the real deal for him. Every time his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, it hit him in the chest. Hard.

So when you dropped it on him, casually, that you were walking to work because you didn’t have the gas money while he’d been away on a family holiday, it set off something inside him.

You said it like it was no big deal, like it was just another part of your day. He was losing it. The idea of you walking to work, sweating it out while he was chilling on vacation, made him feel sick. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him earlier, didn’t ask for help. Why didn’t you call him? He could’ve handled it in a second, no problem. You didn’t need to be doing stuff like that. 

“You’ve been walking to work?”

“Yeah… it’s fine. It’s not far,” you replied, brushing it off like it was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing. Not to him. He knew how far your walk was.

He knew it wasn’t just around the corner. And you didn’t have to be doing this. Even if he hadn’t been there for the past week to give you a ride as he usually did, he could’ve taken care of it even if he was miles away. He was always here for you, even if he wasn’t physically there.

Rafe gripped the counter tighter, trying to keep his frustration under control, for your sake. “Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t tell me you were low on gas.”

You gave a little shrug, as if that was the end of the conversation.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s not your problem.”

Didn’t wanna bother him? Not his problem? You were his problem, the best kind of problem, and he couldn’t understand why you thought you had to handle everything by yourself. It pissed him off—not at you, but at the fact that you were doing this, struggling in silence. It was like you didn’t trust him to be there for you. 

You didn’t trust him enough to lean on him when you needed something.

“What do you mean it’s not my problem?” His voice came out harsher than what he'd hoped for, and you froze, eyes wide.

“Whoa. Chill,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. “I didn’t think you’d get so worked up about it. I can handle it.”

But that wasn’t the point. You shouldn’t have to handle it. Not when you had him. You were supposed to lean on him, to come to him when things like this came up. 

That’s what being together meant.

It was crazy to him. Every part of him wanted to protect you, to make sure you didn’t have to deal with anything like this on your own. The thought of you walking to work—tired, probably stressed out—while he was away doing nothing important...he hated it.

"You don’t have to handle it, though," he argued, voice softer now but still frustrated “That’s the thing. You don’t get it, do you? I want to help. I need to help. When you're struggling, that's my problem too. I wanna be there for you. Always.”

You looked at him like he was overreacting like he was making something out of nothing. “Baby, it’s not that serious. It’s just a couple of walks. You’re acting like I was in danger or something.”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. "It's not about the fucking walks. It's the fact that you didn’t even think to tell me. Like I wouldn’t care.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples like you were tired of this conversation already. “I didn’t wanna bother you. You were on vacation. I didn’t want to stress you out over something so small.”

He didn’t know why it pissed him off so much, but it did. It was gnawing at him like a splinter under his skin, “You’re serious? You didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” 

You shifted on your feet, already defensive. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I figured I’d just handle it.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” he snapped, stepping closer to you, his hand gesturing wildly. “You figured you’d handle it? What the fuck? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to know about something like this?”

“Because it’s stupid gas money, Rafe!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling to the surface now. “I didn’t wanna bother you with something so small! You were gone, and I didn’t want to make it a whole fucking thing.”

He could hear the irritation in your voice, but it just made him angrier.

You thought you were protecting him from being “bothered,” but all it did was make him feel like you didn’t need him. Like you didn’t think he could help, or worse, like you didn’t want him to.

“Small? Are you fucking kiddin’ me? You walked to work for how many days, in the heat, probably tired as fuck, and you think that’s small?” His voice was rising, and he hated that he couldn’t control it, but he was too worked up now. “It’s not about the gas money. It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. You kept it to yourself, like I’m just some fucking dude who’s not in your life like that.”

You crossed your arms, your own frustration clear. “Rafe, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. I didn’t need to tell you because I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless.”

“That’s not what this is about!” he nearly shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “This isn’t about you being helpless or not! It’s about you letting me be there for you, letting me help you when things get tough. Shit. That’s what this is, what we are. You don’t fucking get it.”

“I do fucking get it, Rafe!” you snapped back, stepping closer to him, your eyes burning with misplaced anger. “But I don’t need to run to you every time something goes wrong. I’m not gonna fall apart because of a few days without a car.”

He was grinding his teeth now, trying to keep his composure but failing miserably. “It’s not about falling apart. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even think to lean on me! You didn’t trust me enough to just call and say, ‘Hey baby, I’m low on gas. Can you help?’ You shouldn’t have to figure it out on your own.”

You threw your hands up, exasperated. “I did figure it out! I walked. It wasn’t some huge disaster. I made it work.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the kitchen. “Why can’t you get that? You don’t have to handle shit like this alone! I want to be there for you. I need to be there for you. Don’t you get that?”

You flinched at the volume of his voice, but you didn’t back down.

“You’re acting like I don’t care about us because I didn’t ask you to bail me out. I care, Rafe. But I can deal with things on my own, too. I’m not just gonna dump every little problem on you like it’s your job to fix everything.”

Rafe shook his head, running his hands through his hair for the millionth time, pacing now because he couldn’t stand still. “It is my job, though. That’s the whole fucking point. I’m supposed to be the one you come to when things go wrong sweets, big or small. I’m supposed to be the one who makes your life easier, not the guy you hide stuff from.”

You let out a frustrated laugh, disbelief coloring your tone. “Hide? Seriously? You think I’m hiding things from you? It was gas money, Rafe, not some deep, dark secret.”

“It feels like it, though!” he shot back, voice cracking slightly, betraying the emotion he’d been holding back. “It feels like you don’t trust me. Like I’m not… like I’m not enough for you to depend on.”

You went silent at that, your arms dropping to your sides as you stared at him, the tension between you thick and heavy. “That’s not fair,” you said quietly, shaking your head. “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” his voice cracked slightly, “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m out here thinking I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back, but you’re just out there, dealing with stuff alone. It makes me feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m not even part of your life like that.”

“That’s not what this is,” you said, stepping toward him now, the fight draining out of your voice. “I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want you to worry. Not because I don’t trust you. I thought I was helping by not making you deal with it.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Helping? You think it helps me to know you’re struggling and didn’t say anything? That’s not helping. Shit, that’s torture, baby. I’d rather know and fix it than find out after and feel like an idiot because I wasn’t there.”

You sighed, rubbing your face with both hands, exhaustion settling in. “Rafe, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I didn’t think it was that serious.”

“It’s serious to me,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, the anger ebbing away, leaving only the hurt behind. “Because I love you. And when you love someone, you don’t want them to handle things alone. You want to be there. Always.”

You froze, eyes wide as you stared at him. What? He hadn’t planned to say it like this, not in the middle of a fight, but there it was—out there and real.

“I love you,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I need you to understand that means I’m here. For all of it. No matter how small it seems.”

He said it. He loved you. Maybe it wasn’t the best timing, but at least it was out of his chest. This man who had always been so intense, so fiercely protective, was looking at you like you held his entire world in your hands. And you did.

He loved you. That word—love—felt huge, almost too much. But it was what you had felt for him too. It was why you held back from asking for help, not because you didn’t trust him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with every little problem. You thought you were protecting him. Now, standing there, you realized maybe you’d gotten it wrong.

“You l-love me?”

“Yeah. I thought that was obvious by now.”

“Rafe…” you started, but he shook his head, his jaw clenched like he was bracing himself for rejection.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, turning away, his hand running through his face. “You don’t have to say anything. I just—I just needed you to know.”

“No.” You stepped forward, reaching for his hand before he could pull completely away. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just say it and walk away like I’m not standing right here.”

His gaze shot back to yours, confused and a little bit guarded, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“I love you too,” you said, the words feeling right as soon as they left your lips. You squeezed his hand, needing him to feel it. “I love you, okay? I didn’t ask for help because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess. I thought I was being strong, handling things on my own. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t need you. I do need you,” you continued, stepping closer, your voice trembling slightly. “And I know now that I should’ve just called. That I should’ve let you help me, because that’s what we do. We’re a team. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest, his grip almost desperate. You melted into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the calming thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re not a burden,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You’ll never be a burden. I just—I need you to let me be there for you. I don’t care what it is. Big or small, I wanna know. I wanna help.”

You nodded against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, letting the warmth of his skin calm you.

“Okay. I promise.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. There was something in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before—relief, maybe, but more than that. Love. He felt you relax against him, your body molding into his.

“Say it again,” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You chuckled softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “I love you, Rafe.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. “I need you to get something,” he said softly, his voice much calmer now “When I say I love you, I’m not just saying it. I mean it. Like… for real. I’m in this, all the way.”

You blinked up at him, your eyes wide “I—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

“No, listen,” he interrupted, “I’ve never felt like this before. You’re everything. And I love you for it. I love every single part of you.”

He felt his chest tighten as he said it, like the words were coming from somewhere so deep inside him that he hadn’t even realized they were there until now. But they were, and they were real. He didn’t just love you—he needed you. He wasn’t sure if you’d even processed it yet. Then, slowly, you grinned, your eyes glistening just a little. 

 “This just… it feels so big. Holy shit, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt.”

“That’s because it is big,” Rafe said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours again. “It’s the biggest thing in the world to me. You are.”

Your breath hitched, and he could feel you trembling slightly in his arms. You reached up, cupping his face with your hands, and for the first time since the fight started, Rafe felt like you were really seeing him. Not just in that moment, but all of him—the guy who was scared out of his mind at how much he needed you, but who was willing to do anything to keep you close.

“I love you too,” you said it again, your voice shaking a little as you said it. “I’m sorry.”

 “We’re in this together,” he kissed your knuckles, his own fingers gently brushing through your hair. “No more going through stuff alone. Not you, not me. We’ve got each other now.”

You smiled, and Rafe felt like he could breathe again, really breathe, for the first time all night. “Deal,” you whispered.

And right there, he knew that everything was going to be okay.

Because you weren’t just someone he loved—you were his person. 

[jweekgoji]

Yandere!Five/Reader (platonic/headcanons)

the story contains: spoilers for season 4 (+ some changes in plot), yandere!five(-s), strictly platonic, five here is in his 20s (physically) and in his late 60s (mentally), overprotective old man five, soft yan!Five, OOC cuz it's yanderes 🤷

I really like to imagine Five being overprotective over someone young and still full of joy. You can be either a kid of one of his siblings, or just a random child he found during his time in The Commission. It wouldn't be that far away from reality, The Handler took little Lila and trained her to do the dirty job, no one would be surprised if that creepy woman ends up kidnapping another child born on October 1st for herself.

Either way, Five is a good familial figure. We all saw how he acts towards little Grace, making small cheering comments from time to time to his niece when she is enjoying her birthday party. I expect him to be much softer if it's someone who is always close to him and constantly tags along with Five. Let's say, he knows you enough to let you go with him at the end of Season 3, since all of his siblings left, he basically has no other choice but to be the only one who has to protect you.

At first, he might get a little irritated because of it. It's not because he finds you annoying or hates being around kids. The problem is, he is not a social person himself. He never had a proper childhood because he spent 45 years stuck in the apocalypse. Then his time in The Commission, stuck with people either invading his personal space, or always staring at him due to him being him. The man got no time for a good rest. He also got no experience in how he should take care of a kid.

Despite a good bag of problems on his back, like the fact that he is still considered a child himself because of his appearance, no job, no money, no place to stay, he somehow gets everything you need. It would probably cost him a lot of pride to sacrifice, people constantly saying «Aww, are you looking after your little sibling at such age? Where are your parents?» makes him want to say something snarky, but he would bite his tongue, since he doesn't want people to ask more questions. He is used to doing everything on his own, dealing with every trouble by no one but himself because it's how he got things done for ages. Not so surprising, Five is pretty good at it.

When he gets his job as a CIA agent, he does not get so much time to be with you, he's more busy even though he is «the one of the professional young agents», trying to investigate more and more. But I believe that he would absolutely think about you during his work, he would go nonchalantly in his mind «Should I buy them the cereal with that dumb colourful toy inside? No, that stuff has too much sugar for someone their age—», which is pretty ironic since Five has a little sweet tooth himself, knowing his famous toasts with peanut butter and marshmallows. He doesn't give you a chance to eat that stuff too much anyways, because he believes « You'll get to eat those when you grow older», while you probably pout and tug on his clothes, trying to make him share with you this tasty sweet thing with tons of deadly sugar! He will give up after a good 15 minutes of you jumping around, being noisy and whiney, so he would roll his eyes and give you like less than 1/3 of the toast, saying 'here is your half, happy now?🙄'. At least he managed to keep you quiet for some time, while he can focus on some little time of his rest.

Five wants you to be independent just like him. Mainly because he doesn't want to think about potential scenarios where you are without him, all defenseless and have no idea what to do. He will teach you everything, how to protect yourself, how to use the oven, who you should call immediately if something happens (he will probably write a phone number with a marker on your wrist, since kids tend to be forgetful and easily distracted and he does NOT take such a risk).

But Five would never push or press on you, he doesn't want to make another child assassin with childhood trauma, think of it as a grandfather taking you to the lake to teach you how to fish. He is constantly near your side, guiding gently but firmly, to you it's mostly about having fun but also learning new things. Five will praise you, give you some advice and will pet your head if you do something right. I do believe he is overprotective, that he doesn't want to even let you near anything dangerous, but he's also paranoid that if another apocalypse comes back, you should be able to survive.

When Five gets his powers back and reunites with his siblings, you will always be with him. Of course I can imagine him having a nanny to call so you would be away from all his family stuff and there is someone whom he can trust enough, but...he might trust himself more than anyone else (but also it's more interesting for the story than you being somewhere away from all the fun lol). When weird things start to happen, Five is looking for anyone even slightly suspicious. Why is this Elf Guy looking at him? Is that guy looking at YOU ? Stop looking at his kid!

Thankfully for him, you weren't around when Lila and Five stuck in that subway. But instead of spending years here, giving up on the idea of coming back home, that would never happen. Because come on, it's Five. He would never give up on coming back to his family and you, someone he also considers as a part of his family. Maybe they're not ideal, they might hate each other, sometimes even annoy him, but he would never allow himself at least a single minute of proper rest since he believes that his only priority is to come back to people he cares about.

The moment he finds the notes on how to come back, he will do it in an instant. When he sees his family safe - he is happy, even though he would hide his inner feelings. You're a little confused when he just hugs you tightly to his chest all of the sudden, sighing in relief the moment he realizes you're with him. Still the same little you, not a single change in your appearance. « Something happened?» you ask softly, carefully placing your arms around him. for some reason, it feels weird. he was never a person who could hug you just because he feels like it. the only time he might give you that it's only if you initiate it, needing comfort because you were afraid of storm or just woke up from the nightmare. « No, no, just stay like that for a little bit,» Five whispers, trying to calm his racing heart. he's thankful that this body at least can take all the stress he constantly experiences in his life. you are probably surprised and confused but he doesn't care about it now. he just came back to you after years of being apart. at least for him it was, for you — a few hours. Despite how unusual it makes you feel, you don't question it, you will give him all the comfort he deserves after whatever he went through.

A good happy ending we deserve would probably be Five (accidentally) taking you to this buffet full of his other versions. You're probably so shy and awkward to see all of them, so you stick closer to him, holding his hand. Five is a little more protective too, he doesn't trust his other selves as we know. I can imagine a little you being so scared to even make a single move, because the moment you look away, you might get lost! Is that your Five? Or is it the one who's near the other table? Why is that Five drunk? When did he find the apron?? But all of them are very nice to you. Five who works as a waiter would gladly help you to find your guardian and maybe he'll spoil you with food they serve here— Your Five is definitely not happy with how much attention you gain from.. other versions of him, but he knows that they all care the same of you.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Bf!James Headcanons

Summary: sfw + nsfw headcanons for bf!james

Pairings: James Potter x gryffindor!fem!reader, platonic!marauders x fem!reader, platonic!lily evans x fem!reader

Warnings: language, James is a simp, nsfw stuff duh, underage drinking, switch!james, boobjobs, mention of pegging, cum (idk i think im js kinda fascinated by cum), oral(male and female receiving), breeding, slight choking, contraceptives, way more I just don’t feel like listing.

A/N: characters are set in their 7th year.

SFW:

First off, we all know this man is a simp for his girl. Like he is down bad.

This man will go and buy you candy from Honeydukes, he will buy you all sorts of stuffed animals, you name it.

Give him homemade gifts! He loves it! Collages, bracelets, small gift baskets, flowers and flower crowns

James absolutely loves when you have a shared class with him, the way you walk hand in hand to the class and sit a seat away from him. He constantly is passing notes back and forth with you and getting in trouble for it, but he doesn’t care one bit.

Sirius loves to tease James for how “pussy whipped” he is. James can’t even deny it.

Permanent puppy dog eyes when he looks at you.

Surprisingly good at gossiping with.

You steal his clothes and he is perfectly fine with it, in fact he prefers it. Sometimes he’ll even bring you a random piece of his clothing bc he wants you to wear it.

You were James’ date to the Yule ball. Sirius spiked the punch. Remus was a victim of the punch.

Oh god. One time the marauders went out to the shrieking shack and got super drunk, James wouldn’t stop whining for you. When the boys came back they sent Lily to fetch you. You got stuck sitting with one very intoxicated James Potter in the common room, you both wound up falling asleep on one of the sofas. The next morning you were woken up by James running to throw up.

Loves to take you on picnics next to the Black Lake. This boy can’t help spoiling you.

He just sneaks in the kitchens and the house elves give him all the food for your dates.

James’ parents adore you, their house is practically your second home.

You come to every quidditch game, you wear one of his scarves and wear as much gryffindor clothing as you can.

You scream James’ name and cheer for him, you give him a kiss after each game and you give him a little more than kiss when they win.

Play with his hair. He will start purring.

He smells like grass, sandalwood, cigarettes from sitting next to Sirius and aftershave

Will use your lotion, perfume, lipgloss, chapstick, boy don’t care.

NSFW:

Oh my lord. James is in love with your body. He wants to touch every part of you all the time.

mating press, full Nelson, cowgirl, missionary are his favorite positions. And let me tell you, he knows how to hit.

Boob jobs. He’s obsessed with them, he loves to make it messy by cumming all over your face and tits.

Ultimately James is a sub leaning switch. He’ll fuck you just how you want tho don’t worry.

James loves trying new things. He will come to you with porno magz he snatched from Sirius asking you timidly if you want to do that stuff.

He has the highest sex tolerance ever. James’ always hard and always needs to go, he can fuck 3-4 rounds b4 he’s down.

Peg him.

He’s so loud when he’s subbing. James will moan and whine and babble at you. When he’s in charge tho… he’ll dirty talk and groan and grunt, occasionally a whimper.

He loves to cum on you, on your face, tits, ass, thighs, pussy. He wants to see you drenched in it. He loves how messy and gross you look after.

James loves to cum inside of you also, he has a massive breeding kink. He will keep pumping you with his loads, so make sure to tell him to stop and learn sum morning after spells.

Prefers giving head over receiving. Don’t get me wrong, he loves blowjobs but he loves the taste of your pussy a tad bit more. James eats like a god too. He will overstimulate you just so he can slurp up your juices.

The blowjobs are great in their own way, the soft warmth of your mouth, how expertly you work his cock, oh and the gag reflex that drives him crazy. He almost busts on the spot.

He loves to fuck you in the showers after his games, his way of blowing off steam. After a particularly hard game, his hand may snake around your throat causing your vision to blur and you to lose your breath.

Getting handled by James is the definition of getting manhandled like a rag doll. He forgets his own strength.

He hates condoms, would rather pull out or some other contraceptive.

Baby is definitely a pervert and steals your panties, you know but just don’t care since he always returns them. He takes them to sniff and lick sometimes James wraps them around his cock and masturbates to the thought of your tight little cunt.

He is a fan of degradation and praise, giving and receiving.

Mommy kink. He will suck on your tits too, if you could produce milk, he would love it. Just wants you to baby him.

He has really sensitive nipples, do what you want with this info.

Good with after care, he’ll clean himself up then grab washcloth and wipe you down, afterwards lying down, cuddling you and thanking you.

Not proofread! I was bored ash so do what u want with this😭 ngl I kinda wanna write a stepdad!james fic next

[berrygoodjob]

Hiii do you have any bf headcanons for Sho, Ren, Haku, Rui, and Jiro?

Tokyo Debunkers as boyfriends hcs pt 2

including: Ren, Rui, Jiro, Lucas, Haku

Part one part three

Ren Shiranami

—he just wants to cuddle up and watch horror movies with you

—he’s gonna make a blanket nest for the two of you with all sorts of snacks and things so you don’t have to get up during the movie

—he’ll definitely hold onto you and keep you comforted during the scary scenes 🩷

— very much a tsundere at first. He’ll be like “ugh, it’s not like i like you,,,,” but then he’ll just think about you 24/7, he always wants you around, and even Haru noticed how much better his mood always becomes when you’re around.

—he likes when you hold him. He’ll definitely complain, but he’ll get so butthurt if you stop. Like “ugh, why do you keep holding onto me…… Wait I didn’t say to let go,,, I guess you can keep it up,,,,” but on the inside his heart is racing and he’s so happy to have you there (and it shows on his blushing face)

— can and will complain about the jabberwok house anytime something weird happens.

—haru has come through his window before in the middle of one of your horror movie dates. You all screamed, Ren nearly attacked Haru.

Rui Mizuki

—he wants to hold you. He wants to kiss you all over. He wants it so bad, but he won’t come near you.

—he’s so scared of his curse hurting you. He gets so sad to think about what could happen even if he accidentally gets too close

—he always makes sure to wear a protective layer when you’re around.

—since he can’t touch you, he shows his love in other ways. He flirts a lot but only with you. He dropped the flirting with others the second you came into the picture

—he plans all sorts of cute dates with you, from picnics to fancy dinners.

—he gives you so much praise and reassurance, and he’s always ready to lend an ear if you’re having any sort of issue no matter how small or insignificant it may be

—he does all the stereotypical gentleman things like holding doors open for you, buying you flowers, he’s paying for all your dates, etc.

—if you come visit him while he’s working his heart may just explode from joy. He’s just so happy to see you. He’ll make a drink that you’ll love solely based on your personality.

Jiro Kirisaki

— He never really understood the appeal of a relationship until you came along.

—he was very confused by his own emotions at first.

—he went to Yuri to ask if it was some kind of mental disorder because he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Yuri informed him that it was likely just a crush, then told him to get back to work.

—Jiro now as your boyfriend, really tries his best to understand every little thing that goes on in your head

—he’s made a mental list of all the tiniest reactions you have to everything in your daily life. Every. Single. Thing.

—he’ll confide in you about how rough his job can be and how exhausted he is.

—sometimes in the middle of cuddling with him, he’ll start giving you a health evaluation. He says it saves time and is more efficient if he just does it then and there.

—he’s like a puppy and will do anything you tell him to, from tying your shoes to even making sure to get more rest.

—will give a lot of random fact on a very wide variety of topics. Sometimes you’ll just be chillin and he’ll turn and say the most out of pocket thing then go back to being silent like it was nothing.

Lucas Errant

—he’s so protective of you.

—he wants to be your best friend and boyfriend all in one.

—he really will do anything for you too.

—he likes to stand right beside you, he’s not huge on pda, but he thinks just standing by your side and being in your presence is the best

—he’ll really open up to you and be much more vulnerable about his life before darkwick along with his twin and his home life

—behind closed doors he’ll cuddle up against you and really relax, he gets SO SO nervous that you’ll slip away from him. So he always makes sure to tell you how much he loves and cares for you.

—Man will write down a physical list of date ideas and ask you to rank your top three. And he’ll take you on those dates and make them as special as he can.

—also does all the stereotypical gentleman things, you will never touch any door ever again.

—he likes to follow you around and help you with whatever it is you’re doing. Also likes to have study dates with you!!

Haku Kusanagi

—honestly he works so hard to keep everything sailing smoothly, he’d do the same in a relationship.

—he always does his best to keep you happy and comfortable at darkwick academy. He checks up on you a lot, but also leaves you space to figure things out. He knows darkwick can be a little overwhelming

—he likes to take walks with you around Hotarubis grounds, even if it’s a little gloomy.

—he feels so content just existing beside you. Hell make you tea and just sit in the gardens and admire you.

—he tells you a lot about his family and the shrine, he gets very vulnerable. So please reassure him that he’s doing great and remind him to take breaks.

—if you praise him at anything he’ll make sure to do that thing around you more. You like the way he makes tea? He brews you some every time you’re over. You like the smell of his new shampoo? He’ll use it every time before he sees you.

—You compliment his looks and he’ll turn into a flustered mess. It’s funny to see someone so easygoing get so red and start stuttering.

—gives forehead kisses or presses his forehead to yours sometimes to just destress from all the damage control he has to do for his fellow students.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Bleach Men Taking Your Baby to the Grocery Store Headcanons

author's note: yes the premise is random but it's also very cute and perfectly in line with my recent onslaught of baby fever. also, the banners in this post were created by the always amazing @actuallysaiyan!! thank you for the gorgeous banners, babe! 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x reader, byakuya kuchiki x reader, grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader, renji abarai x reader, ichigo kurosaki x reader

warnings: children ages 5 and younger and grimmjow's parenting lmao this is mostly fluff and some mischief mixed in from the babies

Kensei is definitely the tough parent of the two of you, and he relishes in that fact

But goddammit do those baby eyes make him waver

As he carries little Mila into the store, he tells her they're only there for necessities

No candy, no sugary cereals, only what you've tasked him to buy for dinner

Despite being only three and a half, however, Mila has a pretty good idea of how to get her way with Kensei

It's gotten slightly less effective since the pacifiers have been removed from her arsenal, but anything that cracks her dad's tough exterior is remarkable as is

It starts off innocently enough, though soon the way she sings her little song and bops her head around becomes rife with intent

"Daddy, can has hug?" She blinks up at him, holding her arms up

Either he's willfully choosing to fall into the trap, or Kensei is merely blind in the face of his precious girl

"Of course, baby." Kensei picks her up from the cart and kisses her wonderfully chubby cheek, leading the cart behind him as he continues through the store with Mila hooked on his hip

Mila curls up, humming as her eyes scan the shelves for something she wants

"Hold Momma's list for Daddy, okay?"

Mila's little fingers hold the list carefully, and soon Kensei is at a crossroad

"Broth. What kind of broth?" He mutters, fishing his cell phone from his pocket to call you

As usual, it turns into a bit of a squabbling match. He thinks remembering every little detail is silly, and you think you've made this dish so many times he should know you need chicken broth

Kensei is sufficiently annoyed by the time the phone call ends, and Mila strikes then

"Daddy, can has kiss?"

"Yes, baby." She gets a kiss on either cheek, and the kiss she gives his cheek right back is just about the final nail in the coffin

With Kensei holding her, she's able to reach the shelf and snag a little box of animal crackers

"Daddy, can has this?"

Played by the fucking toddler again!! That's three times this week!

"... Don't tell your brothers." Kensei sighs, hanging his head in shame

It's not all bad though; he does get another sweet kiss from his princess

Byakuya is a strict but ultimately fair father

Little Jasmine has grown up under his watchful eye, though through that she's certainly learned just how many of his limits she can press and how to get around them

Going to the grocery store is rare, and even more so if you're not present for the journey

But it's vacation time, and you're busy setting up the cabin for your family's stay, so Byakuya has been tasked with gathering enough groceries to make it through dinner and the morning's breakfast

Byakuya holds Jasmine’s hand and they walk inside together, Byakuya using a tissue to pick up one of the small hand baskets. There's no telling the last time this thing has been sanitized!

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Byakuya asks the five year old, and Jasmine hums thoughtfully

How can she end the first day of this vacation with a delicious banana split?

Appealing to her father's tastes will increase the likelihood of success, and her father is quite fond of spicy foods…

“Can we have curry?”

The light in his eyes isn't missed by the girl, and she can practically taste an ice cream sundae with a waffle bowl already

“You're becoming more accustomed to spices, I see.” Byakuya hums and begins to survey the store's offerings, whereas Jasmine is mentally preparing her list for dessert

“Daddy?” Jasmine dials up the sweetness in her tone while Byakuya examines the various cuts of chicken on display

“Yes?” He hums

“Can we have a treat tonight?”

“What sort of treat?”

“A surprise treat. Please, Daddy?”

Byakuya pauses. He's no fan of sweets, and in general sugar is limited in the Kuchiki household

But she did say please

“Mm… I suppose.”

Byakuya doesn't meet your eyes when he and Jasmine return from the store with more ingredients for ice cream sundaes than dinner and breakfast combined

He is such a sucker, but he's happy to be played when he receives his banana split with a chocolate syrup drawing of his beloved Wakame Taishi from his darling daughter

Renji tries his best to be a strict father, but his determination wavers frequently. He wanted for many things as a child, and as a parent he doesn't wish to push that same feeling on his child as long as he's capable of providing a warm, loving home

Not to mention, that damn two year is old is just so cute it makes his heart melt at the mere sight of the toddler

“C’mon, honey, gotta get some soup for Mommy.” Renji murmurs as he carefully takes little Rin from his car seat, carrying him into the store on his hip

“Why?” is Rin’s favorite question right now, and Renji’s eye twitches a bit

“Because her tummy is upset.”

“Why?”

“... I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know!”

“Why?”

Renji gently pinches his son's lips between his fingers. “Shhh… Quiet time.”

But of course, the moment he lets go, Rin is back at it again

“Why?”

“Because now Daddy has a headache.”

Rin, as gently as he can while simultaneously not managing much grace in the act, pats his father's sunglasses that sit atop his head

“All bedder?”

Renji's lip practically wobbles at the sweetness. “Yes, Daddy's all better. Thank you, sweetie.”

Rin rests his head against his father, playing with the Renji’s chain while he surveys all of the varieties of soup, Renji occasionally pulling the chain away from the baby's open mouth

Rin whines after his third attempt to eat the necklace, so Renji quickly grabs the first can of chicken noodle soup he sees and makes a dash for the checkout. No baby meltdowns in public, for the love of God

Renji gently bounces the baby, pleading softly with him to calm down. It's not working very well, however, and these damn checkout lines aren't moving at all!

Desperation wins and Renji's grabbing a lollipop before he knows it, tearing the wrapping off and popping the sucker into Rin’s teeny mouth

His plan to calm the baby works, and by the time he's actually able to check out and purchase the soup, the small pop is already gone and the tantrum is starting to blossom again

And just as Renji gets the baby strapped back into his carseat, he checks his phone to see a text you sent twenty minutes ago that practically sends his eyes popping out of his skull

Can you pick up a pregnancy test too?

He glances over at the toddler, and can practically see the boy as a big brother already

Even with a fussy baby in round two of the long lines, Renji's smile doesn't waver and he just kisses and coos at the hopefully soon-to-be big brother

Grimmjow is an interesting parent. Much like how every day with a four year old is a mystery, every day with Grimmjow is a deep dive into the unknown

So when sending the man and his mini-me to the grocery store, you're not quite sure what they're going to come home with. Hopefully it at least includes the items on the list, otherwise dinner is going to be very different from what you've planned

“Oi, keep up!” Grimm looks over his shoulder, the four year old having been distracted by a vending machine

“Want snack.”

“Too bad. Let's go.”

The toddler’s stare is a little too lead paint-y for Grimmjow's liking

“Zen.” Grimmjow looks on, unimpressed as he fishes a coin from his pocket. “Fine, brat. You win, you get a snack. I win, I get a snack.”

That gets the boy to smile, clapping his hands as he jumps in excitement

Grimmjow smirks. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

The coin is flipped off of Grimmjow's thumb and he catches it easily, Zen waiting with bated breath for the results. Does Daddy win or does he lose??

Grimm sucks his teeth, shaking his head and tucking the quarter back into his pocket. “Heads I win. Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

Zen pouts, watching his father slip a dollar into the vending machine and press the buttons for a honey bun. “Aw man…”

“C’mon.” Grimmjow opens up the snack, taking a big bite and grabbing the front of Zen’s coat, carrying him inside of the store like a handbag

The boy can't help but giggle as he looks up at his father; he loves air jail!

“You're in jail. Stop laughing, fuckin’ psycho.” Grimm shakes his son a bit, hiding his own laughter into the next bite of his honey bun. He's a hardass, but that baby's laugh is precious and melts him like ice cream on a sunny day

Heads turn at the way Grimmjow carries Zen, but Grimm is highly unbothered by such judgment. His kid is happy and healthy, and anyone that thinks otherwise can kiss his ass, for all he cares

“You got the list?” Grimm looks down at Zen, the boy fishing out the neatly-folded post-it note you lovingly tucked into his jacket pocket

Grimmjow perks a brow as he reads off the ingredients you've listed. “Say, kid—” he looks down at his son. “Whaddya say we ditch the list and get some pizza instead?”

Zen claps happily at the idea and Grimm grins menacingly, crushing up the grocery list and tossing it on the floor as he hoists his boy over his shoulder, stuffing the last bite of the honey bun in his baby's mouth whilst flipping off a scandalized woman at the checkouts

Growing up with two younger sisters was good for something after all, Ichigo thinks as he wrangles his twin girls through the parking lot with relative ease

The three year olds are stubborn and independent, having insisted they walk instead of having daddy carry them! But they still want to hold his hands, of course

why no he is not melting like a lava cake, why do you ask?

The girls gasp at the sight of a shopping cart with a racecar on the end that's the perfect size for two little ones!

“We don't even need a cart.” Ichigo deadpans, though it's in one ear and out the other as the babies pile into the little racecar, turning the steering wheels and beeping the (thankfully noiseless) horns

He feels like an idiot but as the dutiful father he is, Ichigo complies with his girls’ wishes and pushes the cart into the store

Chubby fingers point as little voices call out for candies and trinkets, and Ichigo's quick with each of his responses

“No.”

“I said no.”

“No ma'am!”

He's definitely cleaning their ears out when they get home, because clearly they can't hear him! Why else would they ask for things a million times over, hm?

“Daddy always say no.” Indigo pouts, her sister nodding in agreement. All they want is some candy!! Why is Daddy so mean?

Ichigo sighs in frustration as the aisle he needs to go down is absolutely packed, and he's stuck with this behemoth of a shopping cart. Settling it at the end of the aisle, he kneels down to make eye contact with the girls

“Stay put; I’ll be right back.”

Ichigo quickly rushes down the aisle, weaving between people to get to the pasta section

Now… If only he could remember what shape of pasta you told him to buy

Indigo and Imani look at each other, covering their mouths to hide their mischievous giggles

Those Push Pops they were eyeing are still nearby, and Daddy isn't!

As the tag team they are, Indigo and Imani spring into action, Indigo rushing to get the candy while Imani (who turns up the cuteness to a ten!) rushes down the aisle to her father

Ichigo frowns and picks up Imani, scolding her for leaving the cart

It isn't exactly effective, however, as the baby eyes and the cooing let her off the hook easily

When they get back to the cart after Ichigo remembers which pasta you've requested, he sets Imani back into the racecar

Indigo slips a blue Push Pop into her twin's hand, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial smile

They almost get away with it too, though when Ichigo's strapping them into their car seats he notices the lollipops

“Stop stealing!!!!”

These girls will surely be the reason he takes medication for his blood pressure, and he dreads the day when they become teenagers!

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER ONE — THE POISE, INTEGRITY and LUCK OF A KENNEDY

MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: you go head-to-head with your new neighbor, eddie munson, and lose something precious to you in the process. content warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI swearing, classic 80s classism, tommy hagan jumpscare, eddie munson jackin off word count: 3.4k

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you it ends well for you. 

I wish I could tell you that this is nothing but a bad dream, or a fugue state, or an extremely vivid hallucination brought on from that weed your friends buy from that burnout in the horrendous denim vest that is now your next door neighbor. 

I wish I could tell you that you’re not sitting on your designer suitcases in the weed-ridden lot of a trailer park, watching your mom (who is already it’s-five o’clock-somewhere drunk) charmlessly haggle about the rent. 

See, you used to have money, but now you don’t. 

You used to have a dad who wasn’t incarcerated, but now you don’t. 

You used to have integrity, but the IRS seized the last of that along with your childhood home in Loch Nora. 

I wish I could tell you that you weren’t totally fucked. But it seems that there’s no way this total shitheap of a situation could get worse–

“Need a little help with that?”

–except there is. There totally is.

You flex your hand, relieving it from it’s writing cramp. You’ve been hunched over your journal, perched on your ready-to-burst luggage for what seems like hours now– admittedly, you’re the kind of girl that’s used to valet service. Bellhops carrying your suitcases to your room when you used to join your dad on business trips. 

But valets never looked like this. Squinting at you from beneath his ratted-out waves, Eddie Munson gives you a once-over that makes your stomach lurch. You know him the same way everyone in Hawkins knows him– either barrelling through the hallways like a tweaked out autocrat whose only dominion is over his group of unwashed dorks or palming off baggies at parties. But there’s something about Munson that’s always rubbed you the wrong way. He’s so loud and defiant and achingly obvious, smug when he’s got no right to be. 

Especially now. 

“Excuse me?” you drawl, snapping closed the leatherbound journal. 

“Just wheeling out the welcome wagon. It’s not often we get new neighbors with so much…,” he pauses, gaze scanning over the boxes and bags and randomized ephemera being loaded out of the cheapest moving van Hawkins has to offer, “Shit.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, Munson, I’d say you were casing the joint.” In fact, you find yourself wondering where exactly your jewelry box is– y’know, the leftover shit your parents didn’t already pawn. The millieu of your grief made you forget about the high possibility of people in the trailer park stealing your stuff.

Munson grimaces. “Do I look like a thief to you?”

“You look like a drug dealer to me,” you snipe, smile all fake. “You might be looking to diversify your criminal skillset. How should I know?” 

From where you sit on your straining suitcase, you’re about eye-level with Eddie’s crotch. And call him a weirdo, call him whatever, he doesn’t mind the view. As much as he’d like to pretend he’s above the discordant buzz of Hawkins’ gossip scuttlebutt, news of your family’s downfall is hot shit. He can barely believe it’s really happening, and right in his front yard; Hawkins High’s stoniest, coldest fox and her equally foxy mom were packing their fur coats and shit into a double wide. Eddie couldn’t lie– he liked seeing people like you get knocked down a peg. So he’d come to gloat. A little. 

But you’re all snappy and full of venom– not like in school, where he’s almost positive you’ve never made eye contact with him.

He doesn’t mind that change in attitude either.

“C’mon. That luggage looks a little heavy for you, princess,” he says. “I don’t entirely trust you getting it inside the trailer without breaking a nail.” 

“I don’t need your help,” you say, shoving that tattered journal into your book bag. Eddie wonders what kind of bullshit you’re always writing in there– every time you’re not in the middle of some idiot milleu with your popular cohorts, you’re practicing your longhand. 

“You could use it, though,” he counters, and the condescension in his tone makes your cheeks flare up. You spring from your seat on the suitcase, making Munson take a shocked half-step back. His eyes blaze, rounding out as he takes you in at your full height. 

Still taller than you. He'll be okay. He thinks.

“I’m a goddamn cheerleader, you Neanderthal looking dipshit,” you spit, “I’ve got a core of steel.” 

You turn and dip, reaching for the thick leather handles of the case and discover–oof–that’s a little bit way heavier than you were expecting it to be. But spurned by sheer stubbornness and a need to get away from him as quickly as humanly possible, you brace yourself against the screaming muscles in your arms and wobble the baggage all the way to the trailer door. Your mom stands in your path, dress slipping off her shoulders, blearily looking toward the Munson kid as he retreats to his own trailer with a languid backwards tread. He can’t look away from this scene. 

“Mom. Mom, can I fucking–” you struggle through gritted teeth, “The bag, Mom. Get out of the way.” 

She moves out of your way at an aching half-speed as Munson’s eyes burn hot on your struggling frame–he’s loving this, he’s loving seeing you in the shit just like everyone’s loving seeing you in the shit–and you deposit your suitcase in your brand new matchbox-sized bedroom with a heaving gasp. Shit.

You cross the room in about three steps, heading to the window to close the blinds– shshk. Sshsk.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

The blinds begin to close, but stop dead not even halfway across the window. They’re stuck, leaving you without a particle of privacy. Which sucks, of course, because you were really banking on some scheduled crying time tonight. 

You had held it in for as long as you possibly could, all that hurt and frustration at the disaster your father had landed you in, promising yourself that you’d let it all out once you and your mom had a safe place. A place that wasn’t your estranged aunt’s basement couch, or a motel you could barely afford. A place that you could at least pretend was home. In your minds eye, you had envisioned something modest-if-shitty– the sunnier end of Cherry Lane, maybe. You hadn’t counted on a place that required a gas hookup. 

You tug on the beaded chain with a desperate force and no give– exasperated, you let your head slump against the filthy windowpane. The bedroom window stares directly into the window of the trailer opposite, where a warm yellow light flickers on and illuminates another bedroom. 

Peeling posters and a guitar on the wall. Of course. Of course you’ve got a bird’s eye view into Eddie Munson’s fetid cave. He spots you in the window and pouts a big ol’ pitiful pout– poor little rich girl. Missing your velvet blackout curtains? 

You can’t flip him the bird quick enough before he closes his fully functional blinds. 

–

You sleep like shit. Exhaustion couldn't even beat you into a slumber. You couldn’t be bothered to begin the unpacking process and instead fished out whatever closest resembled pyjamas from your luggage (an oversized t-shirt from a father-daughter trip to Columbia University), curling up on your bare mattress with your coat thrown over you, but the thing that was really keeping you awake? You couldn’t find your pen. 

Your prized possession pen, your fountain pen in the ruby-red casing. Your journaling pen. You refuse to write in your diary with an inferior instrument, alright, that’s just not how it’s done, but it’s nowhere to be found. It’s not rolling around the bottom of your book bag, though you’ve emptied the thing three times. It’s not anywhere.

You ask your mom if she’s spotted it anywhere, but she’s still in a Valium haze when you’re buzzing around, trying to get ready for school. 

That’s a whole other ordeal. Your acceptable school clothes are, again, buried in some suitcase that was hastily packed as agents waited for you to vacate the property. And by appropriate, you mean your carefully chosen pastel color palette– the very best of the very trendiest, the ra-ra skirts and the bomber jackets that sit so perfectly on your poised shoulders. The kind of clothes that make someone like Tina go, God, I wish we could trade dads. Just for the credit card. 

Now, all you’ve got to hand are the clothes that feel like your dirty little secret– thrift store suede and dark, rich knits, dresses of velvet and leather boots. The kind of things you collect just to collect, to dress up in when you know no one’s going to be looking at you and think someday. Someday you’ll be someplace where you don’t have to wear the exact right JCPenney piece of shit to fit in with a crowd. Because these are the kinds of clothes that feel right, but make people, important people, people like Carol go–

“Jesus, Lacy, dressed for a funeral much?” 

You hadn’t though the ensemble was too dark, but hey, in the harsh light of day. You bashfully shrug your jacket closer around you, faux fur collar tickling your ears. “I’m in mourning.” 

“Shit, I hate driving out here,” Tommy Hagan squawks from the driver’s seat, already agitated first thing in the morning, “I always feel like I’m gonna get carjacked.” 

Forget your shitty car; the only thing they’d be stripping for parts out here is you, Tommy, you want to quip, but you just fasten your seatbelt. Carol had managed to guilt him into giving you a ride this morning, an effort in pity and also because she wanted the gossip from the trailer park before anybody else. 

“Yeah, how was it, Lace? Did you like, deadbolt the doors and shit? Because you really gotta do that out here.”

“You should get a bat to leave by the door. Y’know, for intruders,” Tina blankly adds, staring into her compact mirror. 

“You should get a gun,” Hagan says, peeling out of the park with a quickness, “if that’s who you’re livin’ next to.”

“What? Who?”

“That Munson freak,” you sigh, resting your head against the windowpane again, “He like, basically threatened to rob me when I was trying to move in yesterday.”

A chorus of disgust rises up in the car that makes you feel good– warm, surrounded, accepted. Even though it blatantly wasn’t true, you’d do just about anything to win your friends’ approval these days. You noticed a certain waver in their stares when you revealed where you’d be moving to, after your dad was sentenced and everything.

A lot of the time, you didn’t feel like they wanted to be there for you, more that they wanted to be the first to hear the dirt on Hawkins’ most scandalous family. 

Usually you’re the one on the receiving end of their deep, dark secrets. 

It’s like they feel like they finally have something on you. 

Or, no! That’s crazy, you’re just being paranoid. These are your friends. As much as high schoolers can be friends. 

“I’ve got just the thing to take your mind off it, Lacy,” Tina says, pinching your arm, “Kegger at Harrington’s on Friday. He even asked about you–”

“--he said he could give you a discount at Family Video if you need it–” Hagan sniggers, earning a smack in the ear from Tina. 

“--shut up! So, you’re not a total social pariah yet, okay?”

You blink. You know Tina means well, but sometimes she is so fucking tactless. “Um. Didn’t think I was one, Tins, but thanks for the reassurance. I guess.”

–

He’s not a thief. He swears to God, or whatever the cooler alternative of God is, he’s not. 

But he’d be lying if he didn’t consider keeping the stupid red pen just to see if you’d miss it. It’s engraved, he noticed, while rolling it between his fingers as he lay in bed last night. And Eddie Munson is a man not unfamiliar with the value of a decent writing utensil. Those D&D campaigns don’t write themselves. You want something that’s going to be in it for the scribbling long haul and this thing’s not bad. Etched in teeny tiny letters on the pen cap are your initials– the letters of a name no one calls you anymore. 

Which is the part that makes it stupid, obviously. What is it with rich people and putting their monogram all over everything?

God, she’s obsessed with this fuckin’ thing, Eddie thinks. Wonder how much it’s worth. A lot, to you, obviously. You’re always etching with it in English, using it to push a lock of hair behind your ear in the library. Tapping it against your lips when you’re standing at your open locker, the tip settling right into your Cupid’s bow, the red casing bouncing off the plush pink of— woah. Pause. 

Eddie had to take a beat. 

He’d been tapping the pen against his lips too. Thinking about you. Thinking about your lips. That nasty little pout you gave him outside your trailer, the snarl it curled into when he goaded you on. 

Fuck, was that kinda… were you kinda…

It’s enough for him to jam the pen into his mouth and palm himself over his boxers, just to make sure. And— yep. He’d hummed, a kind of well whaddaya know! and slipped his hand under the worn elastic waistband. He even gave himself a couple of tugs, just to make sure. 

And the thing that made him really sure was the Technicolor vision he had of confronting you in the library’s restricted section.

Yanking that pen away from your mouth and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Clamping his mouth onto yours and sinking his tongue so deep inside he could taste the cherry Tab lingering on your uvula.

Guiding your hand, your writing hand, past the undone clink of his belt and waistband of his jeans so you could stroke him to the head. 

Ink stains mixing with precum. 

Moaning into your mouth. 

Giving you something to write to dear diary about. 

So now, back in the harsh light of day, this stupid rich bitch pen is burning a hole in his pocket. 

Almost like payback, as if you’d embarrassed him by making him hard in the privacy of his own trailer, he approaches you in the most audacious setting imaginable— the cafeteria. 

You sit there, among your usual gaggle of Gap zombies, but you look— different. You’re dressed different. Cool jacket, Eddie involuntarily thinks before mentally slapping himself. Shut up! We’re here to humiliate her, remember?

“Lacy,” he says, but he draws it out all over his tongue so it sounds like laayyyy-ceeee, and you are visibly disgusted by this. He looms over the table, barely containing the twisted grin on his face. He's playing the part of fake bashful here, you see. “You, uh, dropped this outside my place last night.” Your shoulders go tense. Eyes of your space cadet friends snapping back and forth, from Eddie to you to Eddie to you. 

Because it’s true. Technically, you did drop it and technically, it was outside his place but the implication is what's killing you. 

Eddie can barely outstretch his hand before you snap the pen from him, icy fingers a shock to his skin. This sick thrill gathers like a twister in his stomach as you freeze in place, staring him down with a laser pointed glare. Fuck. Off. And. Die, it says. 

But he doesn’t! “Oh gosh, no need to thank me, Lace! Really, it was no trouble at all— what are neighbors for!”

Mocking giggles start bursting from the popular kid peanut gallery. But the flavor is… off.

Eddie scans the little in-crowd that are scoffing at your expense— which, okay, is totally what he came over here to do but… these are meant to be your buddies, right? Shouldn’t Hagan be threatening to beat Eddie’s ass right about now?

But instead they’re just… letting you stew. No one’s telling Eddie to back off, no one’s calling him their second favorite F slur (freak, naturally). 

Nicole Summers is laughing into her sleeve. That’s rich. Underclassman Carver is almost looking at him like, Yeah man, you got her good!

Which does not feel good. Feels kind of shitty, actually. 

Too easy of a win.

You didn’t even get a chance to fight back. You couldn’t. 

Fuck. 

Eddie turns heel and heads back to his table, a gaggle of befuddled Hellfire heads eager to know what the hell was that, man?! But even he can’t quite put his finger on it.

He feels… bad for you. 

—

“Anybody got bleach?” 

It’s the first thing you manage to choke out after a chorus of ooh, Lacy, what a good neighbor! and Hope that’s all you dropped outside his trailer, girl! All through lunch period, you’re the fucking laughing stock squared thanks to that long haired douchebag. 

“Bleach ain’t gonna cut it,” Carol smirks as you both exit the girls room and head toward your respective lockers, “That thing is totally contaminated with freak cooties. Better toss it— unless you don’t mind.”

See, that’s the thing. You do mind, because it’s your stupid goddamn special idiot sentimental pen and now he’s gone and— and— freaked it up somehow. Exploiting the fact you’ve had to make a major lifestyle downgrade because it makes him feel better. It makes you feel even more exposed than you’ve been getting used to feeling lately. 

Before you can get into it any more, Carol is clotheslined by Tommy to go, I don’t know, finger each other behind the basketball bleachers or whatever it is they do instead of going to study hall. You’ve lost track. 

You push past the gathering rush in the hallway to access your locker. Just as you slam the door closed, it appears again, like an insistent apparition. 

“What, Munson, are you here to tell me you put a bomb in my book bag? Because, if so, great. At least that’ll kill me.” 

Munson stands there, leaning against some poor bastard freshman’s locker, brow all tight. 

“Was I kind of a dick earlier?” 

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I was. Shit, I knew it!”

“Why the fuck are you talking to me.”

“I didn’t mean it to come off like that— well, okay, I kinda did, but that was pretty cold. I mean, your dirty laundry’s already all over Hawkins, I probably shouldn’t have been like, waving your panties around—“

“Munson.” You gesture toward him, as if you’re going to clutch him by the forearms to shut him up, but halt at the last second. Fuck, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand the way he’s standing there with this earnest look in his eyes, on some hair metal Ferris Beuller protagonist of reality bullshit.

Your eyes flare white hot, jaw flexing.

“Listen to me. We may live in a regrettably closer orbit now, but that does not require us to acknowledge each other as human beings. In fact, if you try and pull some shit like that again— in fact, if you even so much as deign to look in my direction again, I will slash the tires on that fucking decommissioned World War II ambulance you call a van. You do not exist to me, and I better not exist to you. I am not your neighbor, I am a figment of your fucking rotted pothead imagination at best. Leave me the fuck alone or I will eat you. Capiche?”

You know for a fact that these are the highest volume of words you’ve ever spoken (or will ever speak) directly to Munson, and he knows it too. You don’t let loose like this— you don’t even talk to anyone outside your friend group unless extracurriculars or group projects call for it. Not because you’re shy, but because you’re discerning. 

Munson has managed to disarm you of all that with one stupid little pen. 

He’s staring at you with a deviously shiny-eyed gaze, one that makes you feel like you need to button the modesty button of a blouse you’re not even wearing. 

“M’kay, well, let me know if you need a ride after school!” he chirps and shrugs and takes off down the hallway to some class he’s certainly failing. 

And you’ve just earned the first big fat F of your life, by letting Eddie Munson get under your skin.

author's notes: hi! if you've read this far, i owe you my eternal thanks. been a hot sec since i wrote fic so i appreciate it. - thee perennial reference to lacy's nickname— best imagined sung to yourself in your bedroom mirror and having a classic 18 year old existential crisis, lol! - the journal and fountain pen motif is a not entirely subtle reference to veronica sawyer from heathers. please expect this trend to continue - as far as timelines go re: steve's working life and tommy and carol's high school careers, bear with me. all will be discussed or at least briefly mentioned but will there be inconsistencies? of course there will, babe. i'm here to fuck around, i'm not here for continuity - horndog eddie munson you WILL live forever! - please reblog, like & comment to show support! i've got some killer chapters planned for this fic and i live to entertain u

[nicksbestie]

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part five (read part four here)

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none!

Word Count : 1038

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i didn't forget about this little project, don't worry!!

You stared at the bookmark, and the number scribbled onto it, pushing down the anxiety and deciding to send a message.

hi! is this matt?

You didn’t have to wait long for a response, the almost immediate ping of your phone catching you by surprise, indicating a reply.

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX : yes! i assume this is ____?

You quickly saved his contact, simply saved as “matt :)”.

“yes! how are you?” 

The conversation only blossomed from there. You were glad that you lived alone now, because had you still been living at home, your family would have teased you about just how much you were smiling at your phone. You texted Matt nearly nonstop, and you had been enjoying every moment of it. It was just like your normal conversations at The Ivy, sharing book thoughts, or snippets of your day, or even funny jokes. You had received a ton of silly pictures from Matt’s brothers, as they had a habit of stealing his phone and sending random selfies. You found it funny, Matt found it annoying, but either way, you always had something to talk about. Conversation with him was never dry, which you had been slightly afraid of when you had texted him for the first time, and he always replied as quickly as possible, unless he was at work. 

When you weren’t talking, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed speaking to him. It was really nice to have someone who actually wanted and enjoyed talking to you. It was another couple of days before you could actually take any time off to leave your apartment, and of course, the first place that you went when you left that afternoon was The Ivy. It had been pouring rain, but you couldn’t stand being inside your room for one more minute. So, you pulled on a raincoat, grabbed the umbrella by your door, and began the short walk downtown. Since it was warm out, and the sun was peeking through some clouds, the walk wasn’t miserable, and you actually quite enjoyed it. You had always loved the rain, and since you had an umbrella to keep you dry, you didn’t mind being out walking in it. 

It wasn’t long before you pushed open the door to The Ivy, shaking your umbrella out beforehand. You wrapped it up, putting it into your bag, and moving to a shelf that had some colorful book covers, as they had caught your eye the second you walked in. You noticed that a lot of them were new shipments, having just been placed on the shelves, and you were so excited to pick up a couple of them and pore over the pages. You read the backs of a few of them, and they seemed intriguing, so you held them in your arms as you made your way over to the cafe to get a cup of coffee. Besides, you deserved it after your insanely busy previous couple of days. However, when you got over to the counter, there was already a cup with your name scribbled on it, with it being your usual. 

You went and picked it up, smiling when you noticed Matt waving at you, sitting at one of the tables with his own cup. “Was this you?” You asked, motioning to the cup. He smiled at you, nodding. “I saw you walk in, figured I’d order your usual for you since I was grabbing my own coffee anyways.” You smiled, taking a drink from it, enjoying the way you automatically felt relaxed. “Well, aren’t you sweet.” He grinned, a smirk on his face. “I try.” You read the back of the book that he was reading, nodding in slight interest, and it was at this point that you noticed the name tag being on his shirt.

“Wait, are you working right now?” 

He shook his head, turning a page.

“Nope. I’m on my break, but I took it so late that I actually get off only fifteen minutes after I go back on shift.”

You sat with Matt for the rest of his break, chatting about random things, mostly books and coffee, but also how both of your mornings had gone prior to being at The Ivy. Matt had worked a short mid-day shift, so he hadn’t been there all morning, which he was grateful for. He had picked up a coworker’s shift since they had been searching for coverage due to a family emergency, and he was heading right back home as soon as he got off. You found a good book to read when Matt had to clock back in, and you dove right into it. You were enjoying the gentle atmosphere, and the time flew. You were a fast reader, so you got through a good chunk of the book before Matt got off the clock and found you still at the coffee table, coming over to say goodbye before he left The Ivy. 

“So, where are you heading after you leave here?” 

You softly laughed, shrugging.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. The rain has gotten a lot worse, and I was going to go walk around shops, but I’m not sure I want to go back out into that. I may just stay here for a while until it lets up, but I’m glad I got to see you! Even if it was within your working hours.”

He smiled, removing the name tag off of his shirt.

“Yeah! One of these days, we’ve got to hang out outside of this shop. I do have a personality other than work.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that you do. You’ll have to show me it eventually.” 

Matt looked like he was pondering an idea, so you quietly waited for a response.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” 

You were slightly taken aback, and nervously laughed.

“Damn, you have to ask me out first!” 

Matt smiled, shaking his head.

“Not like that. Just for dinner. You can meet my brothers, we can spend time together outside of where I work, a nice get to know you more night. If you’re not interested, I totally understand!” 

You smiled at him, walking towards the door with him.

“I would love to.”

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[theemporium]

💰 charles finds your olddd Pinterest boards filled with things little you once wanted. so of course, he buys them all for you. one by one each day until you start realising what they are🤣 charles loving & spoiling even little inner child you <3

like… is that a PONY??

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It was subtle at first.

Charles was a giver in every sense of the word, and that was something you had come to learn and appreciate over the time you knew each other. However, for a relationship that started on the foundation of him buying you gifts, it wasn’t particularly odd for him to splurge some money on you for pointless reasons whenever he felt like it.

You were used to the bouquet of flowers. 

You were used to the small pieces of jewellery. 

You were used to the fancy dinners at high-end restaurants. 

However, when Charles handed you a box with a very old but familiar pair of designer heels you remembered seeing all over the magazine covers when you were in school, it did make you raise your eyebrows a little. 

But Charles kissed away any second thoughts or questions you had before grinning widely, telling you he hoped you would wear them to the restaurant he was taking you to that night. And truthfully, you didn’t think twice about them as you thanked him for the gift. 

Yet, slowly but surely, more of his gifts started making you a little suspicious. 

You loved your boyfriend. You truly did. But he was never the most observant in real life despite his skills in a car, and you highly doubted that he just happened to remember all these random conversations you apparently had months ago. The mere fact he would use that excuse every time you questioned it should have been reason enough for you to know something was up. 

However, the confrontation didn’t happen until Charles had driven you out of Monaco, into some nice countryside in the south of France. 

“You bought me a what?!” 

Charles grinned proudly as he gestured to the building around you, surrounded by large fields that disappeared into the horizon. “A stable!”

“Charles,” you started but the words died in your throat as you tried to take it all in. You could hear the horses inside, neighing and huffing and probably wanting to be let out into the fields rather than the stalls they were currently resting in. Hell, the fact there was more than one was overwhelming.

“I even got your favourite kind of horse!” Charles continued, just making your confusion grow. 

“My favourite kind of horse?” You questioned with your brows furrowed together.

“Yes, it’s all black like the one in—” However, before he could even finish his sentence, he cut himself off. His eyes widened like he realised he said something he shouldn’t have, and that suspicion in you spiked once again.

“Like the one in what?” You questioned, though he remained silent. “Like the one in what, Charles?” 

“Nothing,” he tried to laugh it off.

“Charles.”

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink colour as his expression grew sheepish. “I…found one of your old moodboard things. On that app you sometimes use.” 

And your heart melted when you realised what exactly he found. An old Pinterest board you had started in your early teens and added to throughout the years until your early twenties. It was a collection of desires and wishes you had made growing up, a place for you to put the things you always considered unattainable.

And here you had a boyfriend checking everything off the board like it was a list.

“Charles,” you murmured softly as you moved closer, your arms wound around his neck before you placed your lips on his. “You’re so incredibly sweet.”

“I just want to make you happy, mon amour,” he murmured back with a soft smile on his lips.

“You make me happy,” you assured him.

“Then I have done my job well.”

.

[coryosbaby]

Rafe Cameron x reader (18+)

You and Rafe aren’t friends.

That’s the only thing you really know about whatever you two have going on. The inherently sexual situation had began at Midsummers, when he had cornered you in a random bathroom and had got down on his knees and demanded to taste you.

You wouldn’t have anything against him, if it wasn’t for your friends. Hes nice to you, always has been, but you know that’s only one side of him. Because on the other side of the boy, he’s mean, and he’s violent. Especially to the other pogues. And if you’re being honest, the guilt from the fact that you’re fucking him in secret eats at you everyday.

And so what if that smile whenever he watches you cum makes something in your heart cease? And so what if his hands, although mostly rough, hold you gently while he when they know you’re having a bad day? And so what if sometimes, just sometimes, you see his face in public and want to run towards him and kiss him with everything you have?

You try not to think about all of these things as he fucks you into his mattress right now. And honestly, it’s working.

“Always running that fucking mouth,” rafe growls. you’re moaning, whining under him as he pounds into you, your swollen pussy begging for release. “thinking you can say whatever the hell you want. but you’re fucked out of your mind now, aren’t you baby? can’t say a single fucking thing.”

Your hands come up to grasp his shoulders, and you press hot, wet kisses onto his biceps. he groans, whispering, “fuck.” under his breath when your tongue traces the vein coming down his arm.

“Desperate girl. yeah, you want this dick, don’t you? Little fuckin’ whore…” his fingers reach down to rub your swollen clit. Your wetness practically gushes down your thighs at his words.

The boy’s name is all you can say, all you can think, as you come undone for the the third time that night. your tight pussy squeezes his cock in such a harsh grip that it has Rafe’s hips stuttering. your juices squirt all over the man’s cock as you feel his hot seed spill inside of you. Rafe practically whimpers at the feeling of his release. never would he have thought he would be able to fuck you like he dreamed of so many times. And if we’re being honest, he wants you, all the time; wants to take you on dates, buy you gifts, get you married to him so he can show you off to everyone and everything. Maybe even get you to be swollen with his child.

But knowing Rafe, he’s addicted to the feeling of harming his own mind. Whether it be with drugs, or violence, or denying his feelings for the love of his life right in front of him. And that’s why he’s been so quiet, so full of confusion and despair.

But despite this, however, he begins to get caught up in the smell of you, the heat of you. And as his hand is wrapped possessively around your pretty throat, as he coats your walls in his creamy white seed, four words that dictate Rafe’s entire brain spills out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“I fucking love you.”

[cherrymoon4]

Hmm fratboy!Geto i want him

You’ve been best friends since you were in diapers, you literally watched him grow up into this fine ass man.

Obviously he is kind if a slut, he loves all the attention he receives; so seeing him let a stupid bimbo flirt with him shamelessly at this stupid party your friends dragged you to shouldn’t bother you one bit. Especially cause you were best friends, and besides seeing him surrounded by people (girls especially) was nothing new.

So why did you feel your heart crack a lil as he flirted back? You knew his routine by now: be the nice flirty gentleman with any random girl he deemed attractive enough, take her to some bedroom (not his, never his, you were the only girl allowed on his bed), fuck her brains out and probably give her the best orgasms of her life, and disappear the morning after; he especially liked acting like he doesn’t even know who they are, when those girls come up to him later on to try and get a date.

So you were familiar with his routine, and yet every time you saw him take another girl away for some “privacy”, you couldn’t help the bile that rose up your throat.

You knew it was wrong, feeling this way about your best friend, but there was not much you could do about it.

Just the thought of him with that girl you saw him with, touching her and letting her touch him, was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You left your soda somewhere and quickly walked to the nearest exit, trying to not trip over the sweaty and very much drunk bodies dancing around.

As soon as you opened the door to the balcony, you took in a deep breath; but no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, tears started flowing down your cheeks, messing up your mascara and probably making you look like a fool.

And you felt like one too. You felt so so stupid for letting your feelings blossom, knowing that this was gonna happen; he would never be yours, he probably doesn’t even find you attractive, so why why why did you have to fall for him like this.

Your self-induced misery is interrupted by the sound of a closing door, and a deep familiar voice calling your name in that stupid soft tone only he uses for you.

You froze as soon as you heard him, back still turned to him even when you managed to ask a little “y-yes?”, trying your hardest to sound normal and not like you had been crying like a child.

He doesn’t talk, only walks closer to you till the point of his shoes almost touch the end of yours. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and you feel dumb for thinking he wouldn’t immediately understand that you were in fact not okay.

Without turning around, too scared of how close he would be, you try to come up with something;

“N-nothing..nothing’s wrong. It was just getting a bit overwhelming i-inside, that’s all” you lie, or try to at least.

Obviously he doesn’t buy it. “Turn around then” he says in that voice of his, and you can’t help but follow his words like a little puppet. You turn around but keep your eyes straight ahead on his chest, not brave enough to look into his eyes.

“Look at me sweetheart” he says softly, his deep voice comforting as he takes notice of the smudged mascara under your eyes. You look up hesitantly and meet his eyes, finding him looking at you with that frown of his, concern written all over his features.

“What’s wrong baby, hm?” he asks, bringing a warm hand on your cheek and gently drying the remaining tears with his thumb. The pet name makes your heart flutter, and you internally slap yourself because he did not mean in that way you idiot!

“Told you..” you murmur, but he insists, and asks the question again. “..It’s dumb” you try to avoid answering, but he doesn’t let up; “It’s not dumb if it got you feeling all sad” he says softly, bringing you to his chest and holding you close, one hand on your back and the other petting your hair.

You relax into his warm chest, and as the tears come down again you don’t try to stop them; you only grip his shirt tighter, as if afraid he would go. In return, he holds you tighter and presses his cheek to your head, occasionally placing small kisses onto your hair.

“What happened pretty girl? Do I need to beat someone up?” he jokes lightly, but is voice has a bit (a lot) of seriousness in it, and you know that if you tell him a name he wouldn’t think twice before fighting someone for you.

“You” you mumble into his chest, pressing yourself as close as possible to him.

“Oh..what did I do baby? ‘m sorry” he apologizes sincerely, even though he doesn’t know what he really did; just the thought of hurting you in any way makes him wanna jump off that balcony right in that moment.

“Why are you here sugu’? You should already be fucking that blonde girl by now” you can’t help the bitterness in your voice even when you still clung to him like a koala.

“..Is that why you’re sad? Because of that girl?” he asks with a tilt of his head, taking your face in his hands gently and pulling your face up and away from his chest to look you in the eyes.

“N-no..yes. I d-dunno!” you sigh “It’s just— I’m tired sugu. I hate feeling like this whenever I see you talking to some random girl, even if I know that you don’t r-really care about her. I hate it s’ much and everytime I picture you touching someone else I just f-feel like throwing up so hard I vomit my heart; and I don’t want y-you to tell me that you feel the same way j- not the same way that you want to throw up your heart but the way that you like me; I-I’m not saying that you like m-me! I’m saying that I like you and I have for so long it’s honestly annoying at this point and what I mean is that I d-don’t want you to say you like me just c-cause I like you—“ your rambling is interrupted by soft lips on yours. Your mind takes a while to register what is happening, and as soon as it does you let out a gasp, one that suguru greedily swallows in your kiss.

When he pulls away you’re left feeling so warm all over, but also really confused. “Done yet?” he asks with a grin, hands still holding your face and now caressing your red cheeks.

“Y-you..why, I-I don’t understand sugu” you stutter out, and he looks at you fondly before leaning in close and placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Let’s go baby, we’ll talk over some mcflurry yeah?”

Then they kith again and make love and have babies and geto never chooses the wrong path and never gets depressed and never dies and everyone is happy ! (i am gege and i am rewriting everything right now).

[vivakitkt]

Genshin men when you are pregnant

Characters: Xiao, Wanderer, Diluc, Childe

Warnings: Grammar mistakes, not proofread, cringy(?) fem-implied reader!

A/n: Hello everyone! I don’t think I will be writing anything like a whole story for a character for a while because I’m feeling a little bit of writer block so I decided I’m probably going to continue to write short little stories like this! With that being said

Please enjoy! <3

Xiao

Was in denial the first time you told him that you were pregnant. But ever since you got your ultrasound and saw his child, he fell in love. Very good at taking care of your pregnancy cravings and your aching muscles. When you go out to buy baby clothes, he buys anything that you want. When you reach the shoe section, he stands in shock as he see the tiny shoes that his own child would be wearing one day and breaks down a little. He’s always there when you need him and is even more weary of your safety now that you have to carry a whole entire other human in your stomach. Whenever you start to feel sick in the morning, he immediately wakes up not that he was sleeping in the first place and goes over to help you. Enjoys putting his ear in front of your stomach and listening to his baby’s kicks! When your water breaks, he’s already panicking and making sure that you have every that you need for the hospital. Cannot stand waiting outside and hearing your screams inside of the room. When you finally finish giving birth, his eyes instantly melt at the sight of your newborn and gives you a quick peak on your forehead thanking you.

Wanderer

If you told any one of his many different identities in the past that he would have a child with the love of his life one day, he wouldn’t believe you. When you revealed that you were pregnant to him, he froze and scared you half to death thinking that he wasn’t happy. He was in fact beyond happy. Happy, scared, excited, concerned, and many other feelings. Could he even be a good father? He was scared. Scared that he would hurt his child in the same way that he was previously hurt. But you reassured him many multiple time over and over that he would be a great father. Throughout your pregnancy, wanderer would surprisingly be really good at taking care of you. When you suddenly wanted to eat dango in the middle of the night, he still went outside to go and buy it for you, even through his look of annoyance. As great as he was taking care of your during your pregnancy, one thing he could not get understand was your random mood changes and emotional state. While watching the news you would randomly start crying in the middle of the weather forecast, saying that upcoming rain in the forecast made you emotional. Through your emotional being, you were also more sensitive than usual. When he wouldn’t eat because he gave most of his food to you, you would start yelling at him to eat and wouldn’t stop til he did so. When you went into labor, he was restless. Pacing back and forth in front of the room like a maniac. When the doctor finally called him in, he felt like he could breathe again. As soon as he saw your tired body holding a little tiny human, he cracked. He walked over to your body and let out a couple of tears he was sobbing.

Diluc

The day he found out that your were pregnant, he was ecstatic. Almost to the point where he had tears filling the brim of his crimson eyes as he embraced you tightly thanking you continuously. Since then your house has been filled with baby clothes, furniture, locks, a whole entire nursery was already built, and even a green house for you to relax in. Your rich husband knows no expense when he is shopping for you and for his unborn one in your stomach. Oh you’re hungry? He’ll buy you an entire gourmet meal. Oh are you tired my dear? He has your favorite blanket, stuffed animals, and snacks all prepared for you. Are you cold? No worries he can just warm you up using his body heat. You just need to stay in his arms! He is the perfect man during your pregnancy. When he isn’t there with you, he makes sure to tell Adelinde to take extra care of you. When you are in labor, if you told someone that he was the held house hold of the Ragnvindr clan and owner of the Dawn Winery, they probably wouldn’t believe you. He is absolutely in shambles hearing your strained screams and people also yelling. Then the world goes quiet as he hears a small little squeal finally coming from the room. He immediately rushes in when the doctor tells him to come and sees you holding your child in your arms. He approaches you and kneels down to see your child more clearly as he uses his big arms to embrace you and your child together.

Childe

As soon as you barely utter the words pregnant to him, he stands in shock for a split second and then immediately picks you up to spin you around. He has a big family and always wanted a family of his own with the one he loves. So when you got pregnant, he was more than grateful to you. Couldn’t wait to tell his family that you were pregnant. He had a really hard time holding in the secrecy of your pregnancy. Every time you both went outside or shopping for baby clothes, he felt the need to include “Oh by the way my beautiful amazing wife is pregnant?” Or “Yea did you know my absolutely gorgeous wife is pregnant with my child?” He needed everyone to know that he was having a child with you. When you are pregnant, he spoils you rotten. Like I mean gifts every single day. You would probably need a whole closet or room to put all of the stuff he gifts you for your baby. Anything baby related, he would have it. Takes extra care of you when you are pregnant. Doesn’t let you touch a single grocery bag, laundry basket, or trash bag, this man will take care of everything for you. When your friend texts him that your water broke, he panics and immediately drops everything to run to you. When he arrives to the hospital, he is all sweaty and out of breath from running so fast. Everything was worth it though because he was there in time for his child’s birth. Instantly goes to hug you and then look at his child with a few tears in his eyes.

[feitanii-ll]

巛—𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘 𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗞—⫸

[[ knight !reader x royal !link scenarios ]]

you've been assigned to him for as long as you could remember. people have observed your bond, and it's quite obvious that you're the only reasonable match— the only one he's willing to let take care of him. you wouldn't want to change that fact either, but taking care of link comes with an unfathomable amount of responsibility. such as...

★ "put down that damn frog!"

you're the closest you've ever been to a heart attack at this point. taking the prince out on a voyage where there were monsters lurking about was the last thing you had wanted to do, but unable to resist his insistent, silent pouting, you couldn't exactly denyhim what he wanted.

he's cute when he's curious, which is everyday. you let him roam around with his large observational book, studying and taking notice of whatever shroom or flower was blooming by whatever random tree.

speaking of a tree, you figured to set up a small campsite under a large tree not too far away from the castle. there was a fire going in a pot, and the boy had been throwing random food stuff inside and hoping for the best dish to come from it. you watch with a soft smile— that is, until it deflates as you spot a few bokoblins a little too close and sigh, standing up.

"Stay here." you mumble softly, to which the boy smiles and nods, eyes glued to the way you reach up to grip the handle of your sword, pulling it up and out of its sheathe.

yoi don't take long— really you don't. the bokoblin type was blue, more than easy to take down. you don't even break a sweat until you begin walking back to the tree, only to feel your breath hitch and your heart stop. that damn monster of curiosity (or, link) was holding a poor frog over the pot, probably more than ready to drop it in for Hylia knows what.

your shouting startles the boy, making him go wide-eyed and sheepish as you storm up to him. you take a second to glare before snatching the creature from his hands and setting it back into the small body of water that he was most likely snatched from.

"seriously? I was gone for five minutes." you protest.

his face goes expressive,

'it's for science!' he signs

"I know, link... you always say that." you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, opening your eyes to see him flipping frantically through his research book before holding it open, shoving the open page in your face.

a silly healing elixir that he had been mentioning non-stop. it was probably the reason he was so adamant about tagging along.

"yes, my liege, I know about the elixir. but if you want it so bad, why don't you just simply buy one?" you suggest, exhaustion in your voice.

his face scrunches in disgust at the idea, throwing the book down before signing again,

'too far. want to experience creating it on my own'

you look from his hands to his face, being met with his saddened eyes. if he were anyone else...

"fine..." you mumble, to which he silently celebrates, "just, not in front of me, please?"

'thank you.' he steps closer, and you smile.

'no problem'. you sign back.

* * *

★ "please be careful, my liege." you voice to the blonde prince.

he'd gladly tell you that he was fine if his hands weren't currently full. if anyone else saw how you and link interacted outside of the castle, you're sure you'd be killed for your crimes.

maybe it wasn't a good idea to let the prince of hyrule use your sword and swing it around however he pleased, but in your professional opinion— he's a natural.

"you're doing great!" you smile, shaking your head as he was caught up in his own little world. and he really was. so great that he couldn't heat a word you said. holding a weapon just felt so natural to him, and he absolutely loved it when you offered it up for him to use during leisure time.

his swings are heavy and lethal, but it's obvious to you that he isn't pacing himself. the movements are so natural that he doesn't even comprehend the strain it's putting on his body— not until his swing is stopped.

link looks down at his tightened grasp on the handle, but looseness it as he realizes that you had caught his wrist. his disgruntled expression softens significantly as he looks up at you in awe and embarrassment as you hold his wrists with one hand, and remove the handle the handle from his grip with the other.

"that's enough," tour voice rings through his head as you chuck the sword to the side, face growing serious as you keep holding his wrists, "you alright?"

he can't respond with occupied hands, and so he nods, heart pounding at your serious expression. he wonders what he's done wrong, or what should be wrong, until he begins to feel an ache in his back and shoulders, making him wince. you notice.

"I know that feeling... it's why I stopped you." you explain whilst removing your hands from him. "you're good, but you're straining yourself. you're not fit for that type of intensity."

he mouths a small 'oh', and you sigh, frowning as he rubs his aching shoulder.

"it's alright... I've got something to heal you right up."

the male smiles softly, nodding in appreciation. you were always taking care of him like this. but your encouragement for him to get a little rough and rowdy is why he liked you so much. though you wanted him safe, you weren't constantly sheltering him. he hated that.

he taps your shoulder, to which you turn to him,

'sorry.'

you smile and shake your head, "don't apologize. you did really good my liege. wonder what you'd be like as a knight, actually." you chuckle.

he smiles back, letting the butterflies float around in his tummy.

* * *

★ "what do you think you're doing?"

you felt like you've done this... a lot. for the umpteenth time, you've caught the prince walking around the castle grounds, barefoot, and draped in a softened blanket as he attempts to protect himself from the nighttime breeze.

the look he gives you is one of disappointment as he thinks you're going to take him back inside, but he's pleasantly surprised when you shake your head and simply rest a hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward.

"Don't worry...I'll sit with you."

he smiles, clutching the blanket tighter. beyond the wall, he can spot the swaying of the grass, the wispyness of the clouds in the deep blue sky, and the stillness of the ancient guardians that settled into the ground. he truly loves his kingdom, and you can see it true. he walks until he reaches a spot that makes it easy to see the vast land and takes a seat on the edge of the castle walls.

"this is nice..." you sigh as you sit beside him

he nods, and your eyes glance over to him incase he's ready to talk back. and he does:

'I think I enjoy nighttime the best.' he signs, glancing between you and the beautiful view amongst him, 'sometimes, i think about running. I want to explore.'

you heart aches

"I know, my liege... I'm sorry you feel trapped." you whisper

to your surprise, he laughs softly, shaking his head, 'not trapped... just hidden potential'

you smile. such a purse and positive response. his head turns to face you, eyes so blue that you can't help but observe them thoroughly. he scoots closer beside you, careful, as to not fall, and rest his head on your shoulder.

"I think..." you wrap his blanket around him tighter, "I think we were definitely meant to be this way, my liege." you whisper, and watch as his eyes flutter shut

but not before he nods in agreement, and your heart tate spikes at what he says next.

his hands don't communicate, no. nit this time. instead, you're blessed with a sound ao angelic, so soft that you'd dread if you accidentally missed it.

"I think so too..." he whispers.

* * *

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 2

Masterlist || Part One || Part Three

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.8k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

You finish making your way through the rest of the museum with a little time to spare. Unfortunately, you barely remember a single thing you looked at. Your thoughts were consumed by one particular gift shop clerk.

When you’ve finished with the last exhibit, you find your feet taking you back to the Ancient Egyptian section.

When you left the shop earlier, you told yourself you wouldn’t be so impulsive. You know where Steven works. You can always clear an hour or two in your schedule and make your way back after running a proper background check. But you can’t stand the thought of waiting.

You’ve never been so impulsive, especially not when inviting people into your life. Not when it comes to letting them so close and paying them to do it.

But you’re drawn to this man—this stranger more than you’ve ever been drawn to anyone else. Part of you wonders if it’s because all the others in the game have specific goals in mind. For most, their personalities were akin to sharks hunting for blood, not looking for anything other than what you and others with wealth could give them.

Not all sugar babies are bad; the ones you were involved with weren’t. You preferred them not to act entitled to you or your money. You needed them to know that just because you could pay for anything they could dream of, it didn’t make them any better than someone else—or better than who they were before they started getting into these arrangements. You need people you actually enjoy being around, spending time with. A connection on some level. Otherwise, what’s the point?

Admittedly, you liked it when they were new to the game and had never had a mommy or daddy before. There’s nothing quite like taking someone and showing them all the good things they deserve. 

You have a feeling Steven will be like that, the light in his eyes shining brighter than any of your previous babies because of the mere random chance of it all and the disbelief that he could have such things.

As the gift shop comes into view, you pray Steven is still there. The museum’s closing in an hour. Depending on when he started his shift, he may already be gone for the day. You don’t think your pounding heart can take it if he isn’t behind the counter or sweeping up another mess.

Stepping inside, you deflate when you don’t see him. In fact, you don’t see anyone. The shop is empty. No Steven, no Donna, or even another employee to be found. Frustrated with yourself for being so disappointed about not finding a stranger, you turn to leave, already reprimanding yourself in your mind for acting like this.

“Oh, hello,” someone calls. You slowly turn back around, relief filling you.

“Hello,” you reply, facing Steven as you try to control your expression. You’re a professional; you should act like it.

“You again!” Then he cringes, face flushing. “Not that I mean that in a bad way. It’s just…usually, people only stop in here the one time, especially after I’ve scared them off.”

“You haven’t scared me off.” You walk up to him, stepping closer than he got to you earlier.

“No?” he asks, confused.

You shake your head. “I said I’d see you around.”

Steven shrugs. “People just say that. They don’t actually mean it.”

“I don’t lie, Steven. When I say something, I mean it.”

He appears flustered then, blinking rapidly in disbelief and looking around the shop like he doesn’t know what to do.

“You erm…” His eyes catch on something. “You didn’t buy anything earlier. Did you want one of the Horus figurines?” He rushes to the display, grabbing one of the birds to hold out to you.

You follow, stepping close. Without taking your eyes off Steven, you take the bird from his hand and put it back onto the display.

“I want to take you to dinner,” you say.

“You do?” Steven asks, a little breathless.

You nod. “When’s your next free evening?”

“Tomorrow,” he quickly answers. Good. You like that he’s not questioning you and is quick to answer.

Smiling, you name a restaurant, one of your favorites. It’s not the most expensive place, but it’s not one Steven would likely visit regularly and probably only on special occasions. You doubt working in a museum gift shop pays very much.

“You’ll be there at six.” You’re not asking, needing to see how well he’ll listen to you.

“I’ll be there at six,” Steven repeats.

“The reservation will be under my name.” You give it to him, which he softly repeats as well.

You take a step back, and Steven sucks in a breath as if it was his first since you decided to stand so close.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Steven.”

“Grant,” he hastily blurts when you turn to leave. “Steven Grant. My name.”

You smile at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Steven Grant.”

You walk into the restaurant precisely at six. Some would say you’re punctual to a fault, but you simply find it to be a common courtesy—though it really isn’t that common.

You don’t like your time being wasted and try not to waste others’. It’s rather disrespectful, in your eyes, to ignore set deadlines or meeting times. There’s a reason that time was chosen, after all.

And even though you’ve technically arrived on time, you consider yourself late. You like arriving at least a few minutes beforehand, but your last meeting of the day ran long. One of the department heads liked the sound of his own voice a little too much and couldn’t seem to get to the point. And that’s not going into how it annoyed you that it couldn’t happen earlier in the day due to so many schedule conflicts between you and all the heads.

You also wanted to be early to see Steven arrive. It would allow you to see what he’s like when he doesn’t know you’re looking. Your oft-requested table gives you an excellent view of the door without being directly in front of it, making whoever you’re eating with search for you and giving you time to examine them before they put on their mask—if they have one.

As you look toward your table, you see Steven already seated. He doesn’t see you, though. He’s too busy fidgeting with his askew tie. The collar of his dress shirt isn’t in any better condition, but despite his outfit, he was able to tame his curly hair fairly well.

You continue to stare as you’re led to the table, but Steven, so lost in his thoughts, doesn’t notice until you’re seated and handed menus.

“Oh!” he exclaims when the menu is put in front of his face. Then he finally looks up and sees you across from him. “You’re here.”

He looks a little stunned, and you smile.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s just… You know.” Steven laughs awkwardly.

“No, I don’t know.” That could mean a hundred different things; you’d rather not guess and pick wrong.

He shifts in his chair, uncomfortable. “I… wasn’t quite sure if this was real, to be honest. Was wondering if I was going to show up just to find out you were having a laugh.” He laughs again, trying to play it off as a joke, but it’s obvious that was a genuine concern for him.

“Has someone done that to you before?” you ask casually, though underneath you silently seethe. It doesn’t make sense to you how someone could be that cruel. It especially irks you that it may have happened to Steven. You already feel protective of him even though he hasn’t even heard your proposition yet, let alone accepted it.

“Not exactly,” Steven says, though he doesn’t look you in the eye and takes a large gulp of water.

You don’t press the subject. “Do you believe me now when I say I don’t lie?”

He meets your eyes then and sets his water down.

“Yeah, I do,” he says softly.

“Good. Remember that.” You don’t want him to forget because you know how your offer will sound when you finally get around to it.

“So what’ll you be having?” you ask, changing your focus to the menu. You’re eyeing your favorite while wondering if you should try something different.

Steven fumbles his menu a little as he opens it. “Do they have anything vegan?”

The question makes your brain short-circuit.

“...I don’t know,” you say apologetically. “I’m sorry. I should have thought to ask—”

“That’s alright,” Steven quickly interrupts. “I can usually find something.

“I still should have been more considerate.” You get like that sometimes, so focused on what you want and how to get it that you…forget others aren’t like you. You don’t do it maliciously, and you try not to be like that at all.

You got excited about Steven. You met him, and in the span of a few minutes, you decided you wanted him. You almost berate yourself again for not doing this the proper way. If you had, you would have known something as basic as his dietary restrictions.

You make a mental note to do better next time.

“Normally, I try to mention it, but…I was a little overwhelmed,” Steven admits. His eyes aren’t downcast at the menu like you had expected. Instead, he meets your eyes easily.

He meant it to be reassuring like it was his fault, but you only end up feeling a twinge of shame.

“I did come on quite strong, didn’t I?” You’re not exactly sorry for it, but you know you’re too much for some people. You’re afraid you’re too much for Steven.

“I liked it.” Steven quickly says before his eyes widen, and his face flushes, embarrassed. You don’t know why; you appreciate the honesty, the words draining the tension from you. You haven’t scared him off yet.

Maybe…maybe he’s afraid he’s too much for you.

“You did?” you ask, needing to be sure Steven wasn’t just saying that. Similar to his assumption that you didn’t actually mean it when you said you wanted to see him again.

“Of course I did.” Steven’s cheeks are still flushed, but he doesn’t hesitate.

“That’s good,” you say, relieved. You smile at Steven, to which he happily returns.

The two of you manage to order dinner. Steven found a quite delicious-sounding pasta dish he could have while you stuck with your favorite, needing the comfort and familiarity of it.

While you wait for the food to arrive, you make small talk. You’re not exactly a fan of it most of the time. It’s tedious, and people tend to say a lot while saying nothing at all because they can’t stand sitting in silence. With Steven, though, it’s not terrible, not to mention necessary. 

The two of you know nothing about each other, and he needs to know where you’re coming from, what you can offer. You start out slowly, talking about your interests and hobbies before moving on to company. You talked about how you started it and how it grew. You don’t say anything about money, not yet. People can be funny when wealth is brought up. And you respect Steven enough to trust that he can figure it out for himself. The prices on the menu, while not the most expensive in the city, are higher than what the average person could comfortably afford on a regular basis. And then there are your clothes, sleek and stylish, quietly saying, ‘I paid money for these.’ There’s even the bag on your arm. If someone isn’t familiar with the brand, should they even make out the logo, they can tell the quality.

To your relief, he seems to take it all in stride. His eyes widened when he seemed to realize what all it meant, but the surprise didn’t linger, his expression didn’t turn predatory, and he didn’t ask the typical “So how much money do you make in a year?” while drooling over what it could mean to be with you.

Over the years, you’ve learned to tame yourself. Never talk too much about yourself all at once and ask questions about the other person at the right time—even if they interrupt you and you can’t finish your thought. Steven, however, never interrupted to talk more about himself, letting you talk as long as you wanted, even prompting you to talk more when you stalled. He even seems to lack your same sense of needing to hold back.

Once he got started on his book collection, his fish, Egypt, he didn’t stop. You let him go, struck by how much he was willing to share about his interests like he wasn’t afraid of what you would think. Or at least, that’s what you thought it was before he stumbled over his words and apologized for talking so much. You didn’t mind. You liked seeing his face light up when he spoke about things he genuinely cared about. It was much nicer than the dull, bored expression most people had when they didn’t know what to talk about.

Dinner hasn’t progressed very far—you’re only halfway through your meal and plan on getting dessert—but you’ve decided. You thought you already had when you couldn’t leave the museum without asking him to dinner, but the more you talk with him, the more you just know.

A part of you thinks you shouldn’t ask and let this be a proper, old-fashioned date. Let yourself have a proper partner.

But then you remember when you’ve tried that in the past. Remember how your heart broke when they all decided they didn’t love you. When they stopped pretending they cared when they weren’t getting what they wanted out of you. Eventually, that was your money once you far surpassed the bar of what would be considered successful for most people.

That was when you decided that if money was all someone wanted from you, that’s what you would give them. Then, they wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with you, and your overwhelming desire to care for someone could be met. Plus, there was the added bonus of telling someone exactly what you wanted and expected from them, and they obeyed without question. It makes it easier than a regular romantic relationship would be.

You like Steven, but there’s no guarantee he won’t leave you heartbroken if you let him in that way. So no, he can’t be your boyfriend. 

But he can be your sugar baby.

It’s safer that way.

The conversation comes to a lull, and you decide to pounce.

“I have a proposition for you if you’d like to hear it,” you say, suddenly nervous. You’ve never asked a baby to be yours without knowing well in advance that they would say yes.

What will you do if Steven says no? There’s no taking an offer to be someone’s sugar mommy back, no way to laugh it off, and then ask him to be your boyfriend. You’re well aware this isn’t what ordinary people do, so ordinary people have a hard time truly talking about it.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Steven asks, brow furrowed slightly, though there’s a slight smile on his lips.

“I’d like to take care of you if you’d let me.” There, the words are out, and you were even able to look him in the eye when you said it. A small victory in itself for you.

Steven’s smile drops, confusion falling over his face. “Sorry? What do you mean exactly?”

You’ve never had to explain it to someone before. Even the brand-new babies you’ve had knew what they were signing up for when you connected with them.

“I don’t have children or family of any sort, but I like taking care of people. I have more money than I could ever spend in several lifetimes, and yes, while I do donate quite a bit, it’s not the same as giving one person everything they want when they couldn’t have it otherwise.” You pause, but Steven doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at his plate, stunned.

You decide to continue.

“I like you, Steven, and I don’t like very many people, not really. But with you, I know, and I would like to have your company. You would be compensated, obviously, and I could give you anything you’ve ever dreamed of. If you asked for the moon, I would find a way to pay for it if it made you happy.”

You aren’t usually so blatant about showering a new baby with money and gifts, practically begging them to accept what you can give. It mostly kept them from seeing you as a piggy bank and more as a person. But it’s different with Steven.

“That’s…that’s very…” Steven trails off. He keeps shifting nervously in his seat, unable to look at you.

You’ve made him uncomfortable, and your stomach drops. You drop your eyes to your plate, your favorite meal turning sour in your mouth. You wonder if you’ll be able to eat it again after this.

“Like a…like a sugar baby?” Steven whispers as he looks around the restaurant, afraid of being overheard. It makes you wince.

This was a mistake.

“That’s exactly what it is, yes.” There’s no point in trying to sugarcoat it.

Your eyes flick up to meet his before quickly dropping again. You push your food around on your plate, no longer hungry.

“Aren’t I a little old for that?” Steven laughs, sounding a little hysterical.

“Only if I were a pervert who wasn’t interested in anyone over twenty-five,” you say without thinking. You don’t usually speak like that unless you’re with close friends, especially since some of the other mand daddies you associate with do, indeed, only seek those in their twenties. Steven’s reaction has you so distressed you’re starting to lose your filter.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not that, then,” he laughs, sounding calmer. Surprised, you finally look up.

Steven looks hesitant, but not like he’s going to run for the hills. Not right now, anyway.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asks softly.

“Of course I am.” You don’t look away when you say it. You can’t.

Steven does, though, staring down at his plate and twirling his form in his hand.

“... I’ll need to think about it, obviously,” he says, and you’re shocked, to say the least.

While it’s not a yes, it definitely isn’t the ‘no’ you were starting to expect. Yet.

“You can take however long you need,” you tell him. He doesn’t need to answer you today. You weren’t expecting him to.

Steven nods. “Let’s finish dinner for now, yeah? Unless you want to leave?”

The words make you laugh, no doubt sounding a little hysterical yourself. “I’m surprised you don’t want to!”

“I’m willing to keep an open mind,” he says.

You nod. “That’s all I can ask for.”

The rest of dinner goes fairly smoothly, though there’s a lingering tension in the air, an expectation that had been set yet not met. You decide against dessert. What started as a fun dinner has left you feeling nauseous even though Steven hasn’t outright turned you down.

When the waiter arrives with the black leather booklet holding the check, he hands it directly to you like he knows. He probably does; you’ve brought babies here before. You don’t even think twice, only glancing at the bill that can’t even be considered a blip in your finances before placing a card inside and handing it back.

Steven is fumbling with his wallet all the while.

“I invited you. Dinner’s on me,” you say, figuring he’d take that better than trying to explain how you never intended for him to pay for anything tonight.

“Shouldn’t I…? I mean, I’m the—” Steven cuts himself off at your raised eyebrow. “You know what? Nevermind. Thank you,” he finished quickly, shoving his wallet back into his pocket.

“You’re welcome.”

You both go silent.

“You’re really going to consider it? Because it’s okay to say no right now.” You have to say it. You’d prefer Steven be upfront with you and decline now rather than ghost you, never to speak to you again.

“I don’t know if I want to say no,” Steven admits. “It really is a lot to think about, and it’s not like I know what I’m doing. And I really do like you, so I’m not going to tell you to bugger off just because I wasn’t expecting something like this to happen.”

“You’re not insulted?”

“Should I be? Isn’t the more appropriate response to be flattered?”

“And are you?” you can’t help but ask. 

Steven looks down shyly, his face flushing once again. “I am.”

A smile threatens to spread across your lips, but you try to tame it.

You turn away from him and grab your bag. Digging inside, you pull out the small notebook you keep for notes and a pen. You rip out a page from the notebook and write down your phone number.

“Take your time letting me know,” you say, sliding the paper across the table to Steven.

He stares at it for a moment, perhaps trying to memorize the number, before carefully slipping it into his pocket.

“Do you need a ride home?” you ask, standing, sliding your bag onto your arm.

“N-no, I’ll be alright, thanks,” Steven stammers, quickly standing and bumping the table.

You can’t tell if he’s trying to be polite or distance himself from you. Either way, you want to push the topic, so used to giving your babies everything, asking after their needs, but you don’t. Steven hasn’t agreed, and you don’t want to pressure him into a decision. It’s a choice he has to make for himself, or the relationship will never work.

But there is something else you can do to show him that you care.

“Do you mind if I…?” You gesture toward his tie.

“No?” he answers, clearly not understanding what you’re asking.

You don’t clarify. Instead, you step close and reach for his tie. Steven goes still, his breath catching, as you loosen his tie and fix the collar of his shirt. You straighten it, pulling it down from where Steven had it placed a little too high on his neck. Then you cinch the tie back up, making sure it lays straight, and smooth a hand down it—down his chest—before stepping back. The slight change makes all the difference, making him look more put together than he had just a moment ago.

You want to do that for him more often.

“There.” When you look up, Steven’s pupils are blown wide, his face flushed. “Shall we?”

“Mhmm,” Steven hums, making you smile.

Outside the restaurant, you spot your car, the driver having pulled up to the entrance to wait for you.

“I hope to hear from you, Steven,” you say softly. 

You’ve grown a little too attached, you think. You’ll be devastated if he says no. Even worse, perhaps, if he doesn’t respond at all.

“You will,” he promises with a firm nod.

Taglist: @multific

[cokou]

✧ ── 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 # Trafalgar Law

✉ ! Knowing that your kind will vanish of the world soon enough as the population was running low, Law just wanted to help you.┆Do not translate, transfer, or reform, this is my only account (exp. Ao3), will not be cross posted anywhere.

✂┄ Fluff┆Child bearing, Pregnancy┆part 1┆m.list ┄✘

─────────────── ✧

You unexpectedly joined the ship together with the heart pirates. Yes, while it was confusing for the crew to get used to a random recruit all of the sudden, you did become the secretary of the ship. Mostly to help Law, in other ways as well.

The conclusion of the crew on how you became such an officer right after joining was that their captain, Law, had fallen for you. Which wasn't true but maybe just a little, he just couldn't afford sending you off board right after blowing up inside you, so he might as well take you in for extra help. (In extraordinary ones)

But who were you to refuse his help? Even if his intentions seem diabolical, he'd atleast help you raise your child. It wasn't your plan to carry an offspring these days, especially with a pirate who seems like a magnet for danger.

While you realized that you were carrying his child, you had been thinking of aborting them (ˢᵉʳᶦᵒᵘˢˡʸ), though atleast thinking about it, it would help you with the population lost of your own race. Law already knew that, of course, he himself was a doctor, so it wasn't such a biggie whenever you have your pregnancy problems.

Fortunately, the hardest parts were keeping it out of his crew's league's, Law insisted that his reputation would get tarnished if his crew ever found out, so he tries ro delay their knowledge about you as far as he could, maybe until the baby was born.

He insisted to name your kid Lami if it ever was a girl, telling you that it was his early sister who unfortunately, met her death at such a young age. If it ever was a boy, he'd say he wanted it to be Cora(zon), or Rosi(nante), he didn't explain why, but doubting the name he picked firstly, he was definitely somewhat special to him.

✂┄┄┄┄┄┄ 4 months in ┄✘

The baby was revealed to be a boy, based on the ultrasound that Law performed. You picked their name, cora!

Law had someone going on aswell, his love for you. Yes, of course he'd need that in order to bear a whole child with you, yes. But the feeling was growing deep inside his heart now, and not by his dick.

The ship was also resurfaced to a new country dock, Law let his crew wander around a bit and went to go stock baby items with you. Yes, he turned the old engine room that no longer has pipes into the baby's nursery, but of course disinfecting it and cleaning it first. When i tell you, he almost emptied his wallet with everything he bought.

He also took you to stroll around the country, buying you several new clothes or maybe some accessories. Of course he never forgets to explore the lovely grassfields and flowerfields with you. It almost felt like he took you out on a date (he did).

Nothing ever is complete without his crew butting onto the scene trying to figure out if you and Law are on kahoots! You and Law were awfully close these months, yes, of course in order to check you for symptoms or simply staying by your side while multitasking his paperwork. And considering that Bepo ends up walking in on Law's office while you were there too made him included in the hottest gossip on the Polar Tang!

✂┄┄┄┄┄┄ 9 months in ┄✘

Little Cora was born! Law had held Cora in his arms, almost spilling happy tears across his crying form. Law approached you and slowly, carefully placed little Cora into your arms as you two smiled happily together.

It was also the day that the affair between you and Law was introduced into the crew, along with Cora. You were happy, the happiest of all, specially because you delivered a child, together with someone you loved, and the fact that no one judged you in this ship for your appearance.

Of course, your son ended up inheriting your horns, it made itself obvious when you had delivered him, showing signs of a little thorn by his forehead. You weren't happy as he might be treated out of his league, but considering that Law sworn to protect him no matter what, made you cheer up. The crew threw a welcome party for little Cora as a welcome to the heart pirates!

Law had made it official with you, swearing that he would forever adore you and his child.

────── ✧

6 years had passed, even when Law still sailed out in the vast sea, he had built out a house for you and his dear Cora. He regularly calls you on a den-den mushi, hoping to hear your voice and cora's, asking how you have been. Law visits you atleast 2 times a month, while the Heart pirates still may not be disbanded, he still kept you company.

How did I forget to mention that, you and Law had been married? Yes, a year ago, before sending you off the Polar Tang to ensure safety, Law proposed to you. He truly vowed to never leave you and his child ever, never in a million years will he abandon the two of you.

✉ ! Law, he loves you a lot and your child, just as much as you love him.

✧ ─────────

© Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[drowndrawn]

The fact that Tumblr needs new users constantly and that it can't be fine with the regular user base is only a problem inherit to what we call social media because social media exist inside the capitalist system, in which enterprises always needs to keep expanding so they won't get eaten by bigger ones.

I was thinking about it in relation to the censorship on this site regarding Palestine (is it a coincidence?), and, in my little mind, maybe the only way for keeping Tumblr alive and working as our home would be for us (regular users) to buy it and to run it like the AO3 is by OTW.

We all know how interconnected AO3 and Tumblr are, and imagine if in AO3 we lived by being censored (this is quite the opposite case of AO3) and in constant risk of all our production being wiped out. Being AO3's other hand for fans around the world and, honestly, the only place where you don't have to fight for obvious shit like people having the right to be what they fucking are and the only place where you get to obsess over something for days and months on end without a single complaint, Tumblr should be ran by us, not by some random conglomerate that just wants to eat and not be eaten.