#they can send small reactions of support
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fortfried · 2 months ago
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I have this friend who is able to remain hinged at all times. Like no matter what tragedy or life disappointments come to him, he'll be sure to clearly, succinctly and humorously explain what's going wrong atm. On insta stories! Now me? I'm gonna crash out on tumblr as a quick purge of negative emotions.
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scoutswritingcorner · 8 months ago
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Can I request Hazbin Hotel characters reacting to an artist!reader that draws a lot but never shows anyone their work but one day accidentally left it out and their partner finds it and sees several sketches and finished drawings of them? Sorry if it’s an odd ask, I’m an artist and I thought it would be a cute idea I don’t see nearly enough, it’s okay if you can’t. Thank you either way!!!
Artist Rendition
Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader
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TW:A little flirty with Angel’s reaction. Other than that none!
A/N: Not an odd request at all, Friend! For Angel’s part I did write for a male Reader and Fem Reader for Vaggie! KINDA SHORT I APOLOGIZE FRIEND!
-🦌Alastor���-
-🦌 Alastor was very curious to see you carry a sketchbook around all the time. He wanted to pry so badly.
-🦌 But he didn’t, he simply ignored the book and only ever asked about it if you were near him. You always get flustered and hide the book even further. Oh now he’s wondering what kind of dark secrets you have in there~
-🦌 But to his surprise when he finds it open and on a page, he sees drawings of him, he carefully flips the page and sees a half down sketch of him sitting in front of the fireplace.
-🦌 Oh boy you just made his ego inflate and his undead heart soar to new heights. His tail starts wagging and that’s the only way someone can catch how happy he is.
-🦌 Now? He’s going to poke a little fun at you, “My Dear, if you had to pick anyone in the hotel to be your muse who would it be?” 
-🦌 Silly deer man loves you and your abilities, he often tells you that your work needs to be displayed in a museum.
-🍎Lucifer🍎-
-🍎 Oh boy- when he finds out you can draw? Oh he gets super excited and asks if you can draw him a duck- even if it’s a little doodle! He doesn’t care!
-He doesn’t really ask or pry into your hobby much but he will admit he does want to see what you draw.
-When he does see that you drew him of all people he gets all flustered and he’s prideful cause his partner?? His darling little angel drew him?!?
-He will volunteer to pose for you, he’s used to sitting still for hours on end! 
-He will even pose naked if you want him to! Just say the word and he’ll drop his clothes right there.
-🎰Husk🎰-
-🎰 He watched you sit at the bar and draw to your heart's content and never really commented on it.
-🎰 When he does peek into your sketchbook it’s to pull behind the bar into a safe place so nothing ruins your work.
-🎰That’s when he notices the drawings and doodles of him and his tail curls happily. The way you captured him doing menial tasks sends his heart into overdrive.
-🎰 You were too good for him, damn it. The next time you find it? It has a little sticky note on the cover of your sketchbook and it has a little drawing of you with a small message, “Had to go out with Alastor. Love you, Dollface.” 
-🕷️ Angel Dust 🩷-
-🕷️ Oh this man- he loves it! You’re an artist and he’s also like an artist! But of a very very different genre.
-🩷 He also doesn’t pry much as he understands privacy. He wants to give you that as much as he can since he doesn’t get much of it.
-🕷️ Once he finds out you draw him? He’s over the fucking moon cause his man? His precious boyfriend draws him! 
-🩷Expect him to start flirting more and more but with art related flirts. “Come on, Suga’~ Draw me like one of your french girls~” im sorry. He’s very supportive!
-👑Charlie👑-
-👑 oh this baby girl..she’s been so busy lately that if she did notice it completely slipped her mind!
-👑 But when she finds your sketchbook? She gets super excited cause you draw this good?? She’s so proud that she immediately goes to find you!
-👑 She is another who fully supports you! You need anything, don't hesitate to ask!
-👑 Will try to convince you to start painting for the hotel! You can say no it won’t offend her.
-🎀Vaggie🎀-
-🎀 Much like Husk she won’t point it out or comment on it.
-🎀Will find out you draw her when she sees it when cleaning up and gets all blushy cause this is how you see her?
-🎀 Comes clean immediately about seeing your drawings and tells you how amazing they are.
-🎀 Shyly asks if she can pose for you next time, how could you say no to her?
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kryptonitejelly · 6 months ago
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art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.
(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)
art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending
a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.
edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)
-
Good luck.
Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.
You’ll buy dinner if I win?
Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.
Yes, but if you lose…
Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.
I’ll feed you.
Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.
Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.
Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.
You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.
Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.
He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.
Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.
Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.
-
The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.
-
“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.
“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.
“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”
Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.
Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.
“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.
“The red looks good on you.”
“Perhaps I should transfer.”
“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.
“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.
“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.
“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.
“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.
“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.
“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.
“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”
“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.
“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”
“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.
“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”
You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.
“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.
“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.
“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.
“I’m sure Art wo-”
“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.
“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”
You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.
“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.
Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.
“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.
“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.
“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.
-
“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.
“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.
“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”
“What do they say?”
“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”
“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.
“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.
You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.
“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”
Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.
“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.
“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.
“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.
“No.”
“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”
“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.
“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”
“It was creepy!”
“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”
“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.
You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.
“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.
“Art,” you try again.
“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.
“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.
“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.
“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close
“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.
“Maybe we should change that.”
“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.
-
You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.
“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.
“I don’t know, I just don’t.”
“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.
“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.
“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.
“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.
“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.
“Here?”
“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.
“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”
He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.
Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.
You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.
“Stop staring Art.”
“Am not.”
“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.
“Am not.”
“Go to sleep Art.”
-
“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.
“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.
“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”
“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”
“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.
-
“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.
“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.
Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.
“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.
“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.
“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.
-
“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.
“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”
“I read.”
“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”
“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.
“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.
“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”
You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.
“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”
Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.
-
“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.
Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.
“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.
“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.
“We should do-”
“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.
“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.
Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.
Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.
You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.
“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.
“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”
“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.
“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.
“Just good at reading the room.”
-
12 years later
The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.
“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”
You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.
“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.
You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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ohnoitstbskyen · 3 months ago
Text
I deleted the ask, but someone wrote one basically saying "why do you post reaction videos to Helluva Boss? Don't you know the show exploits its workers and they're overworked and get burned out?"
And, I mean, I love your energy, person who asked, definitely hold on to those values and speak up about this. But also, I am afraid I might have some bad news for you about literally the whole entire animation industry.
As near as I can make out from the sparse journalistic reporting that's been done on SpindleHorse -- and as a sidebar, please for the love of god read actual reporting about these things and not just callout posts and fandom discourse -- as near as I can make out, SpindleHorse as a studio is neither all that much better nor all that much worse than basically anywhere else in the industry on their level. It seems like it is (or was? Hazbin Hotel seems to be run differently) a studio mostly run by contracting people on a project-by-project basis, which leads to a crapton of turnover, and a huge need for organizing and onboarding, which according to the reporting I have read, the producers and freelancers have struggled to balance and manage properly, which has negatively impacted a number of the workers.
Top that with the usual catty, clique-based backbiting, sniping and poorly managed conflict resolution that's just kinda endemic in creative environments mostly staffed by twentysomethings and stressed out freelancers, and you have the recipe for a workplace where a lot of people are going to have a great time and feel creatively fulfilled, and a lot of people are going to come away feeling justifiably burnt the fuck out and exploited.
All of this is... not especially unusual for the animation industry, or indeed for any creative industry. Which is not to say that it is good, or that it should be allowed to be normal, or that it shouldn't be reported on and criticized (and please for the love of god support unionization efforts because that's the only thing that will actually address these kinds of systemic problems). It's just to say that if those kinds of issues are the line in the sand you draw where you refuse to engage with a studio's output...
Then, for starters, say goodbye to basically all of anime, because the Japanese animation industry is actively in a state of crisis trying to recruit new talent because its working conditions and pay are so astonishingly abysmal. And the horror stories that escape from that industry make the issues at SpindleHorse look like summer camp at times.
But you also have to say goodbye to a lot of American and European animation. Please do not imagine that Disney and its subcontractors, or that Nickelodeon or Warner Bros, are benevolent employers. They exploit their staff brutally and are currently trying to crush the labor value of animation with threats of generative AI being used to replace jobs. But those corporations also have extremely well-funded PR departments and the ability to silence employees with NDAs and threats of blackballing, so you don't get to hear as many of the horror stories as you might from a smaller independent studio that's less able to silence criticism by holding people's careers hostage.
All of this is to say that 1) it's valid and important to have criticism of both large and small-scale animation studios, and to keep the well-being and happiness of the workers higher in your priorities than the output of Products™.
And 2) if you're going to have a principle for what kinds of problems make a studio's output morally untouchable for you, and what kinds of problems you think should make a studio's output untouchable to other people, you do need to apply that principle consistently to the entire industry, and not just to the independent animation studio that happens to be surrounded by the internet's most inflammatory fandom discourse.
If you don't apply that principle consistently, maybe don't send reproachful messages to strangers scolding them for not living up to your standards, and even if you do apply that principle consistently, maybe still don't do that, because it's mostly quite annoying, and doesn't really do anything to support animation workers struggling for better working conditions.
The Animation Guild in the US is currently in the middle of a bargaining process with their industry, and they have a social media press kit as well as relevant talking points on their website which you can use to post in solidarity with the workers. If it comes to a full industry strike, consider donating to their strike funds to help them maintain pressure. Outside of the US, try and find out what (if any) local unions exist for animation workers, and maybe sign up to their mailing lists. They will let you know what kind of support they need from you.
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vrystalius · 2 months ago
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Hey babess, i have quite the heartwarming request.
So imagine that wife reader is heavily and her water randomly breaks so ofc she gives birth with the help of shinobu(i love her so much) and other midwives ofc. So how would the hashias react during the late stages of pregnancy and birth??
Hear me outtt, what if preg reader was pregnant with twins(im a big family girl lol, i had to let that out). Stuff stuff
Hashira’s reactions during your pregnancy
You’re heavily pregnant. How will your husband react?
Note: I didn’t include the gender and names of the babies, so you can choose the genders and names yourself!
Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x fem!reader
Includes: Food cravings, mood swings, sickness, talking to the baby, birth and a little bonus scenario in the end (different for every hashira)
Words: 5.1k, enjoy!
Sanemi Shinazugawa
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Food cravings
What? You want to eat ohagi again? Sure it’s Sanemi’s favourite food, but you’ve insisted on eating ohagi for every day the past week. The baby needs some vegetables, fruits, vitamins and whatever else. Just anything but ohagi!
He couldn’t even watch when you proceeded to devour sweet potatoes with a chocolate sauce. The worst part is that Sanemi is the main chef of this household and was forced to cook all kinds of monstrosities for you during your pregnancy. But he never said a word about it and just silently judged you for even asking him to bake a whole fish just so you can covered it in sliced fruits and chocolate sauce.
“Are ya sure you’re not poisoning our baby? Are ya really, really sure?”
Sometimes, Sanemi’ll try to sneak in healthy foods into your diet like one would to with a toddler. He’d chop the vegetables as small as possible and try to feed them to you in bits by bits by incorporating them into your favourite foods. You weirdly enough never noticed how your ohagis began to taste like carrots more and more.
“What? No. I’m making them like always. I.. just used the same knife for both carrots and the beans of the ohagi… Whatcha looking at me like that for??”
Mood swings
It’s very confusing to Sanemi how you can be happily munching on your snacks in one moment and then began crying about a dog wandering the streets, thinking someone abandoned him. He’s putting up with it, though. He’d would take you into his arms and try to explain to you that no, that dog is not living on the street and that it belongs to the nice old lady that lives just down the street. He gets a little nervous every time you get emotional when standing in the nursery and inspect all the prepared toys and clothes. Why are you crying so hard? Do you not want a baby? Or are you just this excited to have one?
He doesn’t get your mood swings but’ll try his best to give you reassurance and support. Even though Sanemi’ll be a little awkward and just hover around you in fear of triggering another random emotion in you.
“Hey, darling… how about we move to the bedroom? The nursey is makin’ ya emotional. You’re gonna loose control over ya bladder and I’m gonna be forced to clean after ya. Again.”
But most of the time, Sanemi’ll get soft when you get emotional over the baby stuff like this. Sometimes, he’ll sneak into the nursery during the nights he can’t sleep and rumage all the baby’s things. Sanemi would look through all the neatly folded baby clothes Giyu send over and the toys Tengen’s wives made themselves for the baby. He can’t help but get a little teary-eyed himself, leaning against the crib and looking down at the soft mattress below. He just can’t want to have a little baby in there.
“Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that! A-And ‘m not cryin’, I-I’m just checkin’ on the crib. Y’know, if it looks stable and shit. It gotta handle our fatass baby.”
Talking to the baby
Sanemi loves to lay his head against your stomach and just listen to the baby’s heart beat. His hand would gently caress your stomach while mumbling against your skin.
“Whatcha doing in there, hm? Why are you kicking your mommy? You’re hurting her, y’know.”
It’s a weird sight, seeing a strong man like him baby talking to your stomach while having his cheek pressed up against your belly. He’d take at least one hour in his day just to talk to your baby and tell it aaaalll about your and his day.
“Your mom threw up onto our new carpet and that’s your fault, you know that, right? I’m gonna kick your ass for it one day. Maybe when you become a shitbag in your teenage years.”
Sickness
“In both sickness and in health,” and Sanemi meant that wholeheartedly after speaking those words out loud during your wedding. Even if that means sitting beside you in the middle of the night, holding your hair and patting your back while you throw your guts up. He’s sleepy, he’s tired, but he won’t return to back without you. If Sanemi has to, he’ll cook up some tea or soup for you to calm your stomach. He’d even break Shinobu’s door down for some herbs or medicine if it means making you feel better and cuddling you back to sleep with no worries.
“You’re okay, I’m here. Don’t hold back.”
If you’re throwing up for a while, Sanemi might fall asleep in the hunched over position while holding your hair behind your head, his hand still firmly resting on your shoulder in quiet support. He jumps back awake when you throw up violently again.
“Ugh, you good? Told you seaweed n’ cherries don’t go together…”
Birth
Sanemi wanted to complete one last mission before retiring for good. He noticed how his muscles were starting to soften up and the callouses in his hands began to disappear. Just one last mission, then he’ll become a full-time dad! He promised you it’ll be for just three nights and that Shinobu will be looking out for you while he’s gone. You two can talk about preparations, body changes and whatever you two always talk about.
He was close to tracking this scum demon down when he received a message from his crow about you going into labour. Sanemi wanted to go on a mission one time, just one time! Can’t you hold the baby in or something until he comes home? He knows that he has to behead this demon before coming home. That thing already did enough harm and he didn’t want to retire on a bad note by ditching his final mission. So, Sanemi proceeded to chase the demon down while steaming in anger. He wanted to go on a mission just ONE last time, damnit!!
“COME BACK HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!! MY WIFE’S GIVIN’ BIRTH, WHILE I’M CHASING YOUR SORRY ASS!!”
Shinobu helped you through the whole process of giving birth. The contractions and labour lasted for almost half a day, and you managed to almost broke two of the three butterfly girl’s hand in an attempt to release some pain. You were supposed to hold Sanemi’s hand and almost break his bones while giving birth, not theirs! Shinobu kept reassuring you that Sanemi surely is already on his way! Surely. She had her soft smile on her face the whole time while you pushed and screamed through the pain, reassuring you and offering all kinds of ways to relieve pain during the whole process.
After Sanemi returned from his missions, he was staring at two babies in your arms. His eyes darted back in forth from the one to another. The baby on your left had beautiful white hair and was squirming around a lot, grabbing your robes and was seemingly already complaining about the lack of feeding you’re doing. The other baby had darker hair and was much calmer. It was asleep, resting against your chest.
His heart shattered in a million pieces after processing what just happened. In a good way, that is. He never commented on it, but Sanemi did notice that you were a little bigger for being pregnant with only one baby. He just brushed it off as being a bit bloated or the baby being really big, but never that it were two babies that were hogging all the food you were devouring. Sanemi was bawling his eyes out while holding both of his babies in his arms for the first time. They’re so tiny, so cute and chubby! How could anyone not love them? He was barely able to speak while trying to express how much he loves you and is so glad that you and the babies are fine. This is everything he had ever hoped for: a perfect wive, a family home and two kids. If only his other siblings were here to celebrate this moment with him. Perhaps he’ll allow Genya to visit every now and then.
“I-I- *hic* W-We need an-another- *hic* … the crib’s not b-big enough- f-for- *hic* gah, f-fuck!! *hic*
Bonus: A tight crib
You noticed how Sanemi insisted on putting the babies back to sleep every time they woke up during the night for anything. You usually fall back asleep and wake up in the mornings back in his arms, but tonight, you wanted to wait until he returns to bed to cuddle him. After the babies quieted down and your husband didn’t return, you dragged yourself out of bed and stepped into the nursery, only to find Sanemi laying inside the cramped crib, having the baby lay on one side and the other on the other. He was laying in an extremely uncomfortable position, with hid neck bend at an awkward angle and him laying in the crib with his legs dangling out over the edge. You couldn’t help but giggle a little, seeing your husband scarfing his own comfort for his babies.
“Nemi?…”
Your whispering made his eyes flutter open. His face contorting into a tired scowl.
“It’s the only way to put ‘em to sleep, not my fault they like me so much.”
Now, are the babies attached to their papa, or is Sanemi being very attached to them?
Kyojuro Rengoku
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Food cravings
Whatever you’d like to eat, he’ll provide! Sometimes, if the combinations you come up with sound appetising enough, Kyojuro’ll even try some the foods alongside you! He will not judge you for craving weird foods during your pregnancies, but he is a little worried about your choices. You need to make sure that you eat enough nutrients for you and the baby! Kyojuro’ll try his best to cook up something nice for you, but he ends up buying take-out and feeding that to you instead. He’s scared he might burn something or accidentally poison you, so he’d rather leave food up to the chefs.
“I brought some tempura, some soup dumplings, ramen, udon noodles, mushed and baked sweet and regular potatoes. Oh! And some dessert… Mochi, dango and a slice of cake! Everything you ordered, my flame!”
Shinjuro, after finding out about your pregnancy, would offer to cook for you sometime. He used to make meals for Ruka while she was pregnant, so he thought he might make himself useful and help out. Kyojuro’s father actually vowed to stop with the drinking to make sure his grandkid doesn’t grow up around a drunk grandpa, so this is a first nice step for him. Besides, he feels guilty for being so terrible to Senjuro and Kyojuro.
His meals are surprisingly very well made and tasty. They soothe your nausea, lessen the swelling in the feet and help a lot with your headaches.
“Father, I never knew you could cook this good!” “Shut up and eat your plate.”
Mood swings
Kyojuro feels like he’s causing your mood swings sometimes. He feels guilty when you start crying over little things, like how your favourite tree is starting to change colours in the leaves, or just how much you missed your husband after him leaving for half an hour to get you dinner. He’s used to comforting Senjuro while the two grew up together, so he might know a thing about holding someone. Kyojuro would pull you closer and place lots of kisses on your head and top of your head, rubbing your shoulder with his warm hands. His warmth is very comforting to you, making you calm down a little.
“Are you feeling unwell? What made you so upset, love?”
He’ll try to cheer you up by talking about baby names. In his family, most of the names sound similar and end with an “juro”. Shinjuro, Senjuro, Kyojuro… how about Tojuro? Sounds nice, doesn’t it!? Or how about Kijuro? Or how about you combine your first letters with Juro? That sounds very fitting! And see, your tears are already gone!
“I’m not sure if we should think about girl’s names, my love! My family birthed sons for generations now! But we can write some down if you like, just in case.”
Sickness
Seeing you sick makes Kyojuro nervous, but he’ll stay beside you during your morning sicknesses and nausea. You kind of remind him of his mother, back when she was in the late stages of her sickness, that’s why he gets a little jumpy when you hunch over the toilet snd wretch your guts out. He’ll hold your hair and gently caress your back, silently hovering beside you.
To make sure you don’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to throw up, Kyojuro equipped your nightstand with a bowl you can throw up into anytime you felt nausea hitting you.
“I’ll make some tea for you once you get nauseous again, okay? My mother’s recipe.”
Talking to the baby
Kyojuro loves to talk to your stomach as if the baby is already out and able to talk back. He’d sit beside you in bed, gently caressing the side of your stomach while grinning brightly.
“What kind of hair will you have, hm? Like mine? Or like mom’s?”
Sometimes, he’ll try to convince the baby to let you sleep for once. If you can’t sleep, Kyojuro can’t sleep. He’d lay his head on your chest and sleepily mumble to the stomach while slowly rubbing your sides.
“You’re quite the active one, hm?.. mh.. How about we go to sleep together, okay? Be a good kid and give your mommy some rest…”
Birth
When your water first broke, Kyojuro thought the baby might’ve kicked your bladder or something, causing you to leak. But the horror on your face that followed soon after changed his mind in an instant. He sent out a crow to Shinobu, notifying her about your labour, but it might take a while until she arrives. In the meantime, your husband prepared all the things for a homebirth. You probably wont be able to reach the butterfly mansion in time to give birth there, but in the meantime, would you like water? Food? Sweets? A towel? Maybe not the last one because you’re able to hit him with that. You’re very angry about him impregnating you nine months ago while being in painful labour right now.
Shinobu surprisingly arrived very quickly and got right to work. Her soft voice and kind words as encouragement managed to calm you down as far as to not curse Kyojuro and all his ancestors out. Your anger directed at him actually helped you press the baby, so your husband happily sat there and held your hand while you were attempting to break it while redirecting your pain
Finally, after hours on hours of labour, Shinobu’s encouragement and Kyojuro’s hand turning blue from blood being cut off, you birthed two identical twins. Both had your husband’s flamboyant hair colour and prominent eyebrows. Your husband was trembling and crying after seeing them for the first time. His babies, his kids! And two of them?? In one go?? This couldn’t have gone any better. For around the next hour, while your babies were nursing on you, he kept thanking you for everything you ever did for him.
“I-I love you! I-I love y-you! Th-Thank you for marrying m-me, my fl-flame! Than-Thank you for giving me t-two babies! Thank y-you! T-Thank you!!”
Bonus: Tasty hair
Your babies are for some reason obsessed with your husband’s hair. Maybe it’s because of how bright his hair is or how nice it is to chew on it. You caught Kyojuro offering his baby his hair to hold and play around with, only for it to start pulling tightly on it. It hurts a little and he’s not quite sure how his baby got this strength out of nowhere, but he’s incredibly happy that his baby likes his hair so much!
But he also learned that the twins prefer their grandpa’s hair a little more over his. Shinjuro doesn’t appreciate it as much as Kyojuro is, though. He tolerates them pulling on his hair but doesn’t like it. At all. He’ll glare at his son until he finally takes his baby away from his damn hair! His scalp is already burning!
(But we all know that Shinjuro takes them back into his arms on purpose to tickle their stomachs and to let them pull on his hair as they please. They’re just too cute!)
“My flame, could you help me remove our child? This one seems particularly fascinated by the taste of my shampoo!”
Gyomei Himejima
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Food cravings
Gyomei will not always give into your odd cravings. Instead, he’ll try to redirect your cravings to tastier things. He’s worried that you don’t get enough nourishment for the baby and for yourself, so Gyomei’ll try to feed you healthy foods instead of eating the creations you came up with. Why do you even thought about eating pieces of clay you picked up from right next to the waterfall? You’re lucky Genya caught you before you managed to take a bite.
To be completely honest, Gyomei is incredibly worried that you’re eating things you aren’t supposed to eat while he’s not watching/listening.
“Love, what are you chewing?”
His calm and deep voice makes you stop munching on the raw onion and immediately put it back down onto the counter of the kitchen.
Gyomei insists on cooking for you, even if he’s blind. He’s surprisingly good with cooking and always manages to slip vegetables into the meals in the tastiest way possible! You somehow never notice and just are incredibly happy that he takes some time out of his day just to cook meals for you! Sometimes, Genya joins in when you two eat and just chats with you about your husband’s training and his big brother. He’s also very curious about your pregnancy and how you’re coming along. That boy is just as excited about your baby as your husband is! Genya even gifted you one of his best bonsai trees to keep in the nursery!
“Miss Himejima, are you still hungry? You can have my plate if you like, I’m going to meet up with Tanjiro to eat later in the city together anyway.”
Mood swings
Gyomei understands that your hormones are going a little crazy during your pregnancy, but he still gets a little surprised when your mood changes so suddenly. You get emotional mostly over Genya and how hard he’s training to make up with his brother. You cry everytime when you see him train hard under Gyomei. Your husband finds it kind how much empathy you’re feeling for that boy, but the poor boy can’t really concentrate when a crying pregnant lady watching him train. So, your husband suggested you to not watch them train as much anymore and instead do something else. As compensation, Gyomei promises you to tell you everything he and Genya have been doing that day.
Sometimes, when you get angry out of nowhere, Gyomei’ll just let you throw your little tantrum while listening you silently. After you finished, he might suggest exorcising you as a joke to lighten your mood, but his serious tone and unmoving expression made him look like he’s serious. Wich makes you cry.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not going to exorcise you, I promise, my pearl. I would only do that in the extrem case.”
Sickness
Gyomei knows how to deal with sicknesses and nausea. Once you express feeling sick in any way, he’ll prepare a special herbal tea, open up all the windows for fresh air, feed you crackers and dry food, and of course, equip you with a bowl to vomit into just in case. He’ll sit with you in bed, your head laying on his thighs and his palm resting on your forehead, slowly petting your hair.
He’s mumbling quiet prayers for you and your baby, his deep and smooth voice calming your stomach slowly. Gyomei’d smile softly while having his eyes closed. You told him that his smile is always making you calm, so he’s trying to smile more often for you.
“How are you feeling? I can brew you another cup if you like, it’ll help you.”
Talking to the baby
Gyomei barely talks to the baby while you’re awake. He’ll sometimes lean down and mumble a couple of greetings and kind words before moving on with his day, but when you fall asleep at night, your husband likes to have one-on-one conversation with his child. He’d have his large palm resting on your belly, rubbing it up and down. Gyomei sometimes nuzzles into your sides and places a few kisses on the side before talking.
He’d be praying first, making sure that the baby is alright and’ll come healthy into the world. Then, he’d quietly talk about you. Your husband’ll talk about the things you like to do, about how emotional you get over Genya, how you pout everytime he leaves early in the mornings to train, how much he loves you and how you insisted on get even more toys, even though the toybox is already filled to the brim.
“We are both very excited to meet you… please be more kind to your mother until birth. Her bladder is not as strong during the pregnancy, so do not test it again.”
Birth
Gyomei was praying the whole time he was waiting outside the chambers of where you were currently yelling in pain. His eyes were closed in concentration and his palms rubbing together, his red pearly beads wrapped around his hands. He could hear every mumble of Shinobu to Aoi, every curse you’re throwing around and every bed creak after changing the position. Shinobu suggested that Gyomei should wait outside since he’s quite large and they need more space to move around you. You promised to him that you’ll be fine on your own. He has been crying and praying, crying and praying the whole time for you and the baby, until finally, everything got quiet. Your cries died down, but there wasn’t any signs of a baby crying either. Gyomei was silent, stopping his prayers for a moment.
Until finally, first one baby, then another started to cry out. Two? You were carrying two miracles in your stomach all this time? Shinobu permitted Gyomei back inside and allowed him to meet the babies for the first time. They felt so incredibly tiny in his arms, so so tiny and fragile… The babies are the most precious things, and he felt like the luckiest man in all of history, holding his babies in his arms. His voice was very shaky and more tears than usual were running down his face.
“My love. I thank you for all eternity for giving me this gift… thank you. I am incredibly grateful for everything you have ever done for me.”
Bonus: Who’s who?
Given that Gyomei’s blind, he has always relied on his senses to move through the world. But funnily to you, his senses fail to differentiate wich baby is who. Sometimes you catch your husband holding one of the babies, standing silently there, thinking about who exactly he’s holding right now.
“Need some help, dear?”
Your voice made him turn his head towards you, smiling slightly.
“Yes, I already fed one of our twins. I went to retrieve more milk and lost track of wich one I already fed.”
His voice sounded a little confused but also slightly amused. Stepping closer, you saw how the baby that was laying in the crib was uneasy and wiggling it’s legs around, while the one Gyomei was holding was calm and content. You figured that the squirmy one wasn’t fed yet and took the sleepy baby out of your husband’s arms, setting it back into the crib and taking out the other.
“Here, this one seems hungry, hm? Aren’t you?”
You sweet-talked the baby a little, tickling the little stomach, making it giggle and kick against your husband a little. Gyomei nodded quietly.
“Thank you. I have yet to figure out how to differentiate our twins properly.”
Giyu Tomioka
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Food cravings
He’s a little confused out by your requests that keep getting weirder and weirder. Are you sure you want to eat that? If Giyu would eat that, he’d be throwing up. Oh wait, you actually are vomiting up regularly…
Giyu will give you everything you asked for, but hesitantly. Before placing the plate down, he’d eye you up and down, judging you heavily for what he’s about to dish you. His silent judging eyes are enough to second guess your life choices that made you ask your poor husband to cook mashed potatoes mixed in with strawberry yogurt and sakura mochi with fish filling. Perhaps you’ll take the miso soup instead.
Sometimes, he’ll get so worried he approached Shinobu by himself and asked if there’s any medication he can give to you to make you crave less weird things and eat more healthy. Sadly, there is nothing like that, so Giyu’ll eventually resolved to force feed you regular foods instead. He’ll sit you down and feed stir fried veggies, rice, eggs, soup, tea, dessert and whatnot. Anything else but the monstrosity you keep craving.
One time, he caught you mixing chocolate sauce and soup together in the middle of the night. Giyu was just standing in the doorframe, looking utterly defeated and distraught at your actions.
“I love you, but can you stop poisoning our baby? I want it coming out of you alive.”
Mood swings
Giyu feels like he’s the reason you feel upset so suddenly. Perhaps he should’ve cleaned the house more, or finally finish building that crib. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so angry so randomly. He still is quite surprised how quickly your emotions can change from happy to sobbing about the cuteness of the teddybear Giyu brought home for the baby. It’s confusing.
He’ll try to comfort you the best he can, but your husband already struggled to comfort you when you’re not pregnant and had real reasons to cry about, so how is Giyu supposed to comfort you when you sob over the rice being undercooked?
He’ll just awkwardly pull you into a side-hug, rubbing your shoulders gently.
“Do you want chocolate? I heard people eat chocolate when sad. Or do you just want a hug?”
Sickness
You throwing up and being sick is making Giyu sick. While you throw up into the toilet, your husband would hold your hair back while leaning over the sink, trying not to vomit himself. After your morning sickness passes, he still remains crouched over the sink for a moment longer before preparing a ginger tea for the both of you. He’ll lay in bed for a while, cuddling the blanket while sipping on his tea. He looks like a wet, depressed cat, sipping on his tea with a straw while lying on his stomach like that. He mostly recovers after finishing his tea, but sometimes, he gets really sick. You’ll be forced to take care of your nauseous husband who is supposed to be taking care of you right now! How is he supposed to handle watching you birth your child? How can he slay demons but is not able to watch you throw up?
“Love… can you get me another cup of ginger tea? I’m getting sick again…”
Talking to the baby
Giyu didn’t start talking to your baby until you encouraged him to do so. You told him that talking to the baby creates a bond before it’s even born! So, he’ll slowly start conversations with your belly. He’s not sweet-talking to your stomach, but instead awkwardly holding a conversation with it as if he’s speaking to an adult. Giyu’d sit across you on the bed, his hands propped on his thighs, leaning forward slightly.
“So… how is it like inside the womb? When do you want to come out and meet your mom and dad?”
Birth
Giyu was very panicked when you went into labor. He send out a crow to Shinobu immediately and began assembling something similar to a throne made out of towels and blankets. He forced you to sit down and make yourself comfortable while he waiting on the porch to see when the butterfly hashira is coming. His grip was to tight on the fence of the engawa, he accidentally shattered the wood.
He tried to watch you giving birth, but once he saw the head slowly press out of you, he couldn’t anymore. Giyu held your hand in support and let you squeeze as hard as you want, but he was turned away your lower body, facing you instead. Once he heard the baby’s cries fill the room, he snapped his head around in an instant.
Your husband almost fainted when he saw another baby slowly squeeze out of you. Shinobu handed Giyu the first baby, wich was already wrapped in a towel, so she could direct her attention back to the second baby. His head felt dizzy while holding his baby, not able to comprehend that he’s about to be the father of two. He only build one crib, there’s no room for another. Is he even capable of raising two kids? What if they outnumber and team up on him once they grow up? Now he has twice the chance to fail at parenting and become a bad father!
But once your husband held both babies, all his worries washed away. It was like he was in some sort of trance, watching the babies just sleep and squirm around a little. Giyu didn’t even notice how he started crying until his tears fell onto one of his baby’s forehead and started crying.
“Ahh… uhm. How do you calm a baby down? Do you just rock it? Uhm. Help me, please-“
Bonus: How are you supposed to know what they want?
You watch your husband stress out over why the baby is crying for so many times already, and they’re only two weeks old. You caught him talking to your baby multiple times, just straight up asking what they want. He’s slowly starting to get desperate and you can see it.
“You want food?… No? You wanna be held? Maybe… play? Also no? What do you want then?”
Somehow, only you could understand when and what your babies want. Giyu watches in awe as you immediately figure out that the baby wants to be held and fed, and how quickly they calm down afterwards. You’re just magical, truly.
“How do you know? What do you know that I don’t?”
💠
Phew, this took a while to write! Hope you enjoyed this anon! I tried to incorporate the requested things in this ask from another post of mine, but I might’ve forgotten some. Anyways, my posts haven’t gotten much traction lately, so I hope this one’ll do a little better! I’m looking forward to reading all the reposts and comments you leave, I read every single one of them! Just know that they make me smile like an idiot <3
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!
Take care of yourselves <3
Note: Over 200 Notes!! Tysm!! <33
— I’d like to credit my cat as a co-author and professional purrer.
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year ago
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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
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band--psycho · 2 months ago
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Sylus x Reader - Some Much Needed Rest
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist /Join My Taglist
Sylus had been leaning against door frame of his study, watching you read through article after article for the last twenty minutes in your pjs.
It was late, well, late for you, it was 2am and your eyes were still glued to the screen of the computer in front you,  with very little thought of sleep. 
He strided across the room; until he was directly behind you; but still there was no reaction from you. 
“You don’t get enough sleep,sweetie,” Sylus stated, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. 
“Coming from the man who's awake pretty much all night,” you sassed back, trying to ignore how his breathing was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 
“But I do sleep during the day,” he countered back, placing his hands over yours that were resting on the desk, “You, on the other hand, only ever seem to get a maximum of four hours sleep.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he scolded you.
He made it sound like you didn’t sleep, you did. Maybe a bit less than you should given you worked long hours at the association; but you slept nonetheless. 
“Sweetie,” his husky voice whispered in your ear, making you lose complete concentration on the article you’d been trying so hard to stay focused on, “You need to sleep more,”
In your defense, what you were reading was important research for your next mission the association was sending you on. 
“I don’t know what you’re-” your words were abruptly cut off as you attempted to stifle the yawn that was trying to work its way past your lips.  
You heard a low and deep chuckle fall from Sylus’ lips; mentally you cursed yourself, knowing you’d just proved him right.
“You were saying, sweetie?” he asked quietly, his lips lightly brushing over the side of your neck, you tried not to lean back into him, but you couldn’t help but melt into him. 
“Shut up,” you mumbled in defeat, allowing him to spin the chair you were sitting in around and pull you effortlessly from it and into his arms. 
“Come on, I’ve got you” he cooed,intertwining his fingers with yours and leading you out of the office you’d been hiding away in for the last few hours. 
You could’ve argued with Sylus and maybe you would’ve put up more of a fight had your actions not already given your exhaustion away.
So you followed Sylus, assuming that he was leading you into the guest bedroom you’d been staying in for the last few days, that was until you walked into a bedroom that you knew wasn’t the one you’d been staying in, though it did seem vaguely familiar. 
It took a few seconds of your eyes scanning the room, until you realized where you were. 
This was his bedroom. 
You remembered it from when you’d gotten the brooch from him. 
But why were you here now?
“Sylus?” You questioned drowsily, fighting back another yawn. 
“You need to rest in a room with no distractions or disturbances,” he explained softly, guiding you over to his bed, which was directly in the middle of his vast room. 
When you were in here before, you hadn’t realised how just how vast his room was, nor how comfortable his bed was with its silky black satin sheets. 
It wasn’t until Sylus had interrupted you in the office, that it dawned on you how tired you truly were. 
You blinked quickly, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to stay awake. 
“Get comfortable, sweetie, you can stay here as long as you need to,” he assured you, pulling back the duvet on his bed,with a small smile that made your heart skip a beat. 
You obeyed him, shuffling back a little so that you could get under the duvet Sylus had just pulled back. 
“Where will you sleep?” You yawned, feeling yourself slowly start to succumb to the allure of sleep. 
Sylus couldn’t help the way his heart melted at your words, even when you’re utterly exhausted and on the brink of sleep, you were still worried about him.
It was adorable. 
And it made him love you even more. 
“Don’t worry about me, just rest,” he soothed, kneeling next to the bed, his hand caressing your cheek softly, watching as your eyes slowly began  to flutter shut. 
He went to ride to his feet, but when he felt your hand on his, his movements froze. 
“Stay,” your drowsy voice said; making a small chuckle escape from Sylus’ lips.
He couldn’t remember the last time he slept during the night; but how could he refuse such a request when you looked so adorable asking. 
He couldn’t. 
It was as simple as that. 
So he obliged to your request almost instantly and joined you under the duvet.
You wasted no time in snuggling up next to him, your head resting on his muscular chest.
Instinctively one of his arms wrapped around your middle; whilst his other hand continued rubbing soothing circles onto your cheek, lulling you closer to sleep. 
“Sleep well, darling,” he breathed, kissing you lightly on the top of your head.
The last thing you remember before sleep took hold of you, was Sylus’ low chuckle in response to your mumbled incoherent reply. 
Taglist:
@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22
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luvsupa · 3 months ago
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004 | WAS IT REAL?
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tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, ANGST, mind games, fluff (kinda), they’re both in love with each other but sukuna is stubborn, still don’t know what else to add
w.c: about 2k (sorry its lowkey short)
a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR SUPPORTING MEEE IM SO THANKFULLLL 🫶🏽🫶🏽 just finished my assignments so I had to post this (sorry it’s late)🙂‍↕️
+ likes and reblogs are appreciated !!
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the room is filled with a suffocating silence as you lie propped against the intricately carved headboard, your legs sprawled across the bed. toji is between your thighs, hiding your lower body from sukuna’s intense gaze as he stands in the doorway. your body is on fire, not just from sukuna’s sudden appearance but from the intense orgasm you itching to release but now cruelly interrupted.
sukuna’s patience seems to be wearing thin. each beat of your heart echoes in the quiet room, a reminder that today might be the end for both you and toji. after a long pause, toji decided to pay attention to sukuna as he huffs at the fact he had to cut his time short with you. he couldn’t eat you out without you pleading another man’s name. toji rises from between your thighs, his expression a mix of defiance and amusement as he kneels, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.
does he really want to have sex in front of sukuna? has he lost his mind?
toji’s chuckle is almost as unsettling as sukuna’s silence. he begins to undress, his black haori slipping off his shoulders to reveal a finely sculpted torso, gleaming under the dim light. the sweat on his muscles makes his physique even more enticing.
“calm y’erself,” toji coos, draping his haori over you as a shield against sukuna’s piercing gaze. “we wouldn’t want our fearsome king to see what’s mine, would we?”
sukuna still remains eerily quiet, his stillness more frightening than any of his previous outbursts. your heart swells at toji’s protective gesture, though the dread of sukuna’s silence weighs heavily on you. you and toji now lie side by side, leaning against the headboard, facing the imposing figure of sukuna.
“if you wanted to join us, ryo, you could’ve just asked,” toji teases, his tone light but laced with mockery. sukuna crosses all four of his arms, his biceps straining against his custom made kimono. his face remains a mask of indifference, amplifying the fear that his silence breeds.
the room falls back into an oppressive quiet, broken only by your rapid, uneven breathing. sukuna’s calm demeanour is far scarier than any display of anger could be. you long for him to shout or act out—absolutely anything but his silence.
then, unexpectedly, sukuna bursts into… laughter? the sound is a dark, guttural roar that shatters the silence, his mirthless humour echoing through the room. you exchange confused glances with toji, both of you bewildered by this bizarre reaction. sukuna’s laughter continues as he clutches the wooden frame of the bed for support, hysterically laughing as your heart beats faster.
his four arms clapping in a mocking applause. his cruel amusement makes you feel small, as if you’re the butt of a cruel joke that’s neither funny nor forgivable.
“ah, you truly are naive; it’s fascinating,” sukuna purrs, his voice dripping with venom as he approaches you. the unsettling praise only deepens your confusion. as you try to seek solace from toji, sukuna’s grip on your chin forces you to meet his gaze. he crouches to your level, his four red glowing eyes boring into yours as he lightly pets your head, playing with your hair in a disturbingly tender way.
“k-kuna, i’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice trembling with fear. the way he addresses you, with an almost soft expression, sends shivers down your spine. “how can a single mortal be so weak and foolish that i find myself feeling sorry for you?” he says, his words cutting deep. tears start to form, blurring your vision.
as you struggle to process his words, you realize the room’s silence grew louder. you glance to the space beside you and find that toji has vanished. panic surges through you, your breath quickening as sukuna’s dark chuckle echoes with your growing horror.
wait.
in that moment it feels as though you’ve plunged into the abyss, your entire being sinking deeper and deeper, your soul being wrenched away by an unseen force.
you open your eyes, gasping for air, and look around. the dinner?
confusion grips you as you see everyone absorbed in their meals, lost in conversation. you glance at your hands, pinching yourself and wincing at the sting, painfully aware that this is no dream.
was i daydreaming about toji? 
did sukuna ever speak to me in his room? 
your mind spins, unable to distinguish between dream and reality. you look up from where you were standing, behind toji, and meet sukuna’s gaze. his smirk is predatory, and you feel as if you’re being consumed by a dark, suffocating force.
there’s no way.
no.
sukuna’s smile stretches wider as he nods, a knowing, almost sadistic gleam in his eyes. your blood runs cold.
he’s the mastermind. he planted every disturbing thought in your head—the moments with toji, the intimate scenes, the claims of possession—all illusions, all his cruel manipulation.
he wanted to break you, to see how easily he could worm his way into your psyche, how far he could push you before you shattered, and he’s just getting started. his amusement at your torment was his twisted pleasure during dinner, with no one else to entertain him. not even yorozu, seated beside him, could distract him. but watching you, standing behind toji, your gaze almost eye fucking toji was all it took for sukuna to unleash his dark games.
you feel the heat rising in your body, and the clothes you’re wearing suddenly feel stifling. overwhelmed by embarrassment, you storm out of the dining hall, desperately trying to steady your breath as you walk down the hallway.
tears well up in your eyes as you grapple with the realization that you’re nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game, his mind games manipulating you at will.
you truly are naive it’s fascinating,
his words echo in your mind, a haunting that drives you mad. as you turn a corner, you use your hands to dab at your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. suddenly, you freeze when you spot sukuna standing right in the middle of the hallway, his presence making you jump.
“did you enjoy that dirty little fantasy?” he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement as he grips your arm, forcing you to listen to his taunting. “quite nasty of you to have those thoughts during dinner,” he teases, his face twisting into a mock-disgusted expression.
“are you in love with me?” you blurt out shakily, avoiding his gaze as you try to hold back your tears. sukuna looks taken aback by your blunt question, his eyes widening in surprise.
“how dare you ask me such a foolish question. have you bumped your head on the way here?” he retorts, his tone a mix of aggression and confusion. you wince slightly as he tightens his grip on your arm.
“you’re with yorozu, but you’ve got me on your mind. you’re afraid of love, so you’re content to love me from a distance,” you assert, watching as sukuna’s face goes from offended to intrigued. he loosens his grip on your arm, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“I see what this is about,” he says, stepping closer and backing you against the wall, his enormous frame towering over you. the sheer height and intensity of his presence are overwhelming, and as he presses you against the wall as one of his large hand grips your jaw, you can barely breathe.
“you’re jealous that I’m with her and not you, aren’t you? do you wish you were in her place?”
“you’re avoiding my question—you plant these thoughts in my head so I can never be with anyone else but you,” you accuse, noticing the twitch of one of his lower eyes as both your breathings become shallow. sukuna’s face inches closer to yours, his intense eye contact and touch almost making you whimper. his lips are so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your face.
you tentatively reach up, running your fingers through his soft, pink hair. as you do, sukuna’s eyes flutter closed, a deep purr escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his face drawing ever closer to yours, almost as if he’s going to kiss you. the sensation of his hair beneath your fingers and the closeness of his face send shivers through you, and for a moment, you realize that the king of curses is wrapped around your finger, caught in a vulnerable moment of your doing.
but then, sukuna snaps back to reality. his red eyes narrow with fury as he realizes how close he came to fully surrendering to your touch. his anger flares, and he pins both your hands above your head, slamming them against the wall with such force that you’re acutely aware of how tall and imposing he is.
“I could replace you with a snap of my fingers—you mean nothing to me,” he growls, his words slicing through you like a dagger.
“then do it,” you challenge, meeting his fiery eyes with your own defiant glare. sukuna’s eyes glint with a mix of surprise and admiration at your boldness.
“tsk, what happened to your timid behaviour?” he taunts, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. you remain silent, questioning your own sudden courage. sukuna’s grip begins to loosen as you drop your gaze in defeat, and with a frustrated storming off, he leaves you standing there, feeling both defeated.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
night falls as you and the other servants finish cleaning up the dishes and sweeping the kitchen after the guests have left. having completed your duties, you inform everyone you’re done for the day, and they bid you goodnight. as you walk down the familiar hallway, you glance up to see one of the balcony doors upstairs standing wide open. concerned that one of the servants or maids might have left it open, you quickly take a detour in the direction of the servant quarters and towards the staircase.
when you reach the balcony doors, you peek through and see a tall figure standing outside, enjoying the cool breeze and gazing up at the stars.
“toj’?” you call out, and he turns to look at you, a hint of confusion crossing his face at the nickname you’ve used.
“did you call me toj’ because the thoughts he placed in your head” he asks with a smirk, clearly having overheard your earlier conversation with sukuna. realizing that you and toji had never interacted before, you stammer an apology. he chuckles, reassuring you that it’s okay.
“how much did you hear?” you ask, closing the balcony doors behind you to give you both some privacy as you step further onto the balcony.
“everything.”
oh.
“well—”
“do you love him?” he asks bluntly, his gaze still on the stars as the question hangs between you. his sudden honesty makes you pause, staring at the night sky with him, the moonlight casting a serene glow over the garden below.
“w-when i first met him, i did. he even wanted me for himself,” you admit, watching as toji nods. “but now he tortures me—playing mind games and flaunting that other woman.”
a silence falls between you as you both take in the peaceful night. the stars twinkle brightly, and the moon hangs low, its light reflecting softly off the surrounding trees. you and toji stand there for a while, breathing in the fresh air, letting the moment stretch out, a quiet respite from the chaos of your thoughts.
“i’ve heard enough—how about you serve me and my clan?” toji finally says, breaking the silence. his bluntness catches you off guard, and you turn to him, wide-eyed.
“do you really think he’d let me leave to serve another clan—”
“when my stay is over, come with me. we’ll take you in as part of our family and treat you properly,” he offers, and the idea sounds tempting. you fidget with your fingers, considering his proposal.
“but if you prefer to stay in this hellhole, that’s up to you—”
“i’ll come with you,” you say decisively. toji’s smile widens, his scar stretching as he looks at you approvingly.
“don’t worry y’er pretty head about how you’re getting with me, I already know a plan.” 
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cultven · 4 months ago
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can i get a Deadpool x reader x wolverine where reader is making them watch asmr with them at bedtime :3
🍒
ASMR Cuddles
Deadpool X Reader X Wolverine
Content: Some cursing, Wade being a yapper as always, Grumpy Logan, Fluff, Cuddles, Slime!!, Small Blind Al content
Word Count: 827
Warnings: None
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a/n: This request was just too funny not to write, just thinking about these two men and their different reactions. Wrote this super fast on a whim so hopefully it's ok! Short and sweet :)
“Hurry!” You whined, getting all cozy. This has become a daily routine with the three of you, you get comfy in bed while the other two men stall sleeping. Little did other people know, Wade and Logan were huge insomniacs. Perhaps it came with the profession of being a superhero, you didn’t know, but you were determined to help soothe their minds into sleep. The first tactic that came to your mind? Asmr. 
You had the perfect setup. Bunches of pillows to support your heads and backs into a half-sitting position, mountains of blankets to keep you all warm and comfortable, and finally your laptop at full charge ready to go. Now all you needed was your eccentric and grumpy boys. “Wade hurry up!” You groaned as Logan stepped into the room, finally in his sleeping clothes. 
“Hold on baby girl, I’m doing my skincare routine!” Wade yelled from the other side of the apartment. 
“Why? It’s obviously not doing anything for you.” Logan retorted with a smile as you playfully hit his arm. He just grinned wider at your scolding as you heard one more knock on the walls. 
“Keep it down, fuckers! Some people in this place like to sleep!” Blind Al shouted from her room, which was only a few thin walls away. 
“Sorry, Al!” You apologized, sending Logan a look to shut it. He only rolled his eyes as he crawled into bed next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. As he got himself comfortable, Wade burst through the door with a smile, two shirts in hand. 
“Ok, be honest. Which shirt is more ASMR-y? Pink with rainbows,” He held up a hot pink t-shirt to his chest. “Or, yellow with the X-men logo?” Wade’s arm lifted the other shirt, which was just some old X-men merch he stole from Colossus not too long ago. 
“Asshole it doesn’t matter, let's go.” Logan groaned, blankly looking at the two options. 
“I like the pink Wade.” You said with a smile, watching him put the shirt on and patting the seat next to you. Finally, the three of you get comfortable, Wade on your left and Logan on the right. With the way you three were situated, it almost felt like a puzzle. 
“So, what do you want us to watch exactly?” Logan questions, eyeing the videos you’re scrolling past. 
“It’s videos that make funny noises! They’re supposed to relax you and help you sleep. It even makes some people tingle.” You respond, smiling a bit at the man before resuming your search for the perfect video. 
“What kind of tingles exactly?” Wade smirked at your side. Before he could wait for an answer he hastily pointed at a video on your laptop. “Oh! Let’s do that one! Slime.” Sure enough, that was the video you put on. Within the first two minutes, Wade was completely enthralled, commenting on every little thing. 
“What kind of slime is that?”
“Fluffy, dear.”
“How does it sound so delicious?”
“Beads!”
“Where can I find the things to buy this?”
While Wade was now distracted on Amazon buying the various ingredients for slime, Logan was not so impressed. You could tell the only reason he was currently staying in bed was for the free cuddles. The slime clearly was not of his taste. 
“Logan, do you want to try a different video?” You offered, determined to make the man sleepy through ASMR at any cost. Slime probably wasn’t the best fit for sleep time, not only because of Logan’s disinterest but it only seemed to rile up Wade more as he was currently talking your ear off about all the things he bought for his upcoming slime creations. 
“Eh, no offense bub, but I don’t think any of these videos are gonna do it for me.” You felt bad, you needed to find something that would soothe Logan, and you knew just the genre. 
“How about some general tapping ASMR?” You hastily typed the words into YouTube, much to Wade’s dismay. You found the perfect video, turning up the volume ever so slightly and allowing the ASMR to do its thing. Five minutes into the video you felt sleepy yourself, before realizing that the last few minutes have been in complete silence, which was strange when you lived with Wade Wilson. Turning to both your sides you see Wade completely asleep and Logan fighting for his consciousness. 
“This one good, bub’?” You whisper to Logan, teasing him slightly. 
With your words knocking him out of his trance, all Logan could think to say was, “Shut up.” Before returning to the video, his arm still wrapped around you. Within ten minutes the three of you were out cold, a mess of limbs all sewn together with soft tapping in the background. For the first time in years, Wade and Logan were able to get a good night's sleep and all it required was some cuddles and ASMR. 
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zeppelinlvr · 3 months ago
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Kiss Your Eyes Again
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Sam Winchester x Female Reader
Summary: you and Sam head home from the bar before dean, the two of you get ready for bed but you find yourself wishing you had gotten a room for just the two of you.
Notes: Like half of this got deleted and I had to rewrite it and I almost cried. Also, the fic literally has nothing to do with the song Anything by Adrianne Lenker I was just listening to the Songs album while writing this. I want to thank all of you for the continuous support, I appreciate it so much. Also feel free to send in requests because I'm running out of ideas 💔
Warnings: Cursing, this gets frisky but there's no actual smut, making out, fluff.
w.c 1.4k
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You placed two beers for Dean and Sam down and a seltzer for yourself, on the small table at the bar. Sam, Dean and you were in the middle of a case, Dean and Sam had done interviews with victims and visited the morgue while you looked at autopsy reports, symbols they had found, and the contents of the hex bags they had discovered. You knew the three of you were dealing with a powerful witch as the spells you found being used were from around the 15th century.
“This witch is hardcore, her end goal looks like she wants to be possessed by or summon a demon, we need to get to her before she can even attempt to do that” You told the two as you sat down.
“Why the hell would someone want to be possessed by a demon?” Dean asked, taking a sip of his beer.
“No clue” you shrugged “Some witches have sex with demons too, they use it as a way to seal the pact they made with the demon”
Dean scrunched his face “I’m glad you're smart but you don't have to share everything you know”
Sam was watching you with interest in what you were saying “so we’re not just dealing with some everyday pagan?”
“Nope, this bitch is crazy” you told him with a giggle.
Sam gave you a soft smile, the two of you had been dating for a while but he always looked at you like it was the first time he’s seeing you, his eyes wide, taking in how beautiful you are.
The conversation carried on, the two boys sharing about the people they had met and how a few seemed off their rocker.
You finished your drink then said to the two “I’m tired, I’m gonna head back” You gave Sam a look, wanting him to join you, not only because you didn't want to walk in the dark but you missed the two of you being alone together and you were hoping to get some time with just him.
“I’ll go back with you, I’m tired too” Sam responded.
“Don't be gettin’ your freak on you two, I’m not gonna be out all night, I’ll have a couple more and head back” Dean told both of you, a smile on his face at your reaction of embarrassment.
“He’ll be done before you even finish your next drink” you joked, earning a laugh from Dean and Sam quick to defend himself with statements about how it wasn't true.
You and Sam headed out of the bar, the motel was only about a 5-minute walk away. You gave a dramatic shiver in hopes to get his jacket.
“Sammy, I’m so cold” you giggled and rubbed your arms dramatically
“You don't deserve my jacket after that comment” he replied, rolling his eyes as he shrugged his jacket off and placed it over your shoulders.
“We both know it isn't true and that's all that matters” you told him, putting your arms through the sleeves and cuddling into it, his smell engulfing you.
Sam laughed and brought his arm around your shoulder, his larger frame completely overshadowing you. You brought your arm around his waist and began to gently scratch his back. He placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head.
“I’m not really tired, I just wanted some alone time with you” you admitted “I love Dean but I want to be alone with you sometimes”
“I know baby” he told you “how about we get ready for bed then we can cuddle and watch some desperate housewives”
You smiled at the mention of the cheesy show the two of you had gotten invested in, it started off as a background show that you’d turn on when you waited for the boys to come back to the motel, or when you and Sam were trying to fall asleep, but you quickly became invested and so did Sam.
“That sounds perfect” you told him
The two of you had returned to the motel, Sam unlocked the door and you made your way over to your duffle bag, changing into your pajamas, Sam did the same. You made your way to the bathroom Sam close behind, you brushed your teeth at the same time as him, unable to hold back your giggles at the toothpaste that dripped down his chin and how aggressively he brushed his teeth.
You washed your face and he watched you closely, eyeing the products you put on your face.
“Why do you have so many potions for your face?” he asked, a small smile on his face.
“Sam, its three things, and it's so my face doesn't break out and get greasy” You explained
He was nothing short of intrigued by your explanation “But why is your face wash called la roach pussy?” he asked, reading the bottle
“Its probably french or something” you shrugged “I don't know how to actually say the name”
When both of you were ready for bed, you turned on the current episode of desperate housewives that you were on.
You snuggled into Sam, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you leaned into his shoulder. Both of you attempting to cuddle while still being able to see the show.
Sam placed a kiss on the top of your head “I’m sorry we don't get a lot of alone time, I wish I could give you a white picket fence life, but I think we both know that's out of the question by now”
“Sammy don't apologize, and I’m okay with not having a Stepford Wives style of living” you paused “It’s more interesting to research monsters and see you come back sweaty and covered in dirt, its hot” you giggled and poked his chest, he shook his head in response, but a small laugh escaped.
“Sam, I really do love you and I wouldn't trade the life we have for anything, I like knowing we helped people at the end of the day” you added earnestly.
A smile played on his face as he brought you in for a kiss. It was slow and loving, he brought a hand to hold the back of your head, gently toying with your hair. You scratched and rubbed his shoulder, your other hand on his neck playing with the tufts of hair.
The kiss became heated when Sam picked you up and set you on his lap, doing it with such ease it felt as if you weighed nothing. He worked kisses along your collarbone, a soft moan escaping your lips at the sensation. He placed a few kisses on your shoulder before pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of your bare chest, running his hands along your sides a few times, tracing your figure, before grabbing one of your breasts with his large hands, he began to gently toy with your nipple. Your incoherent encouragement and praises followed, you were unable to speak properly, it had been a while since you had been able to be so intimate with Sam.
“I know baby, it's okay” he said in response to your babbling.
You ground down onto his lap, earning a groan from him, you had your hand around the back of his neck tugging on his hair more desperately now, your other hand holding on to his large arm. You felt his growing erection against your core, your arousal pooling at the overwhelming sensations you were experiencing.
Sam brought his lips to yours again, his chest heaving as he harshly breathed while kissing you. His hand on the back of your head pushed you into him, holding you close. You continued to grind down onto his lap, Sam swallowing your soft moans and letting out groans and soft whines of pleasure.
As Sam was beginning to pull off your pants you heard a knock at the door. You sighed, not wanting this moment to be cut short. You threw your shirt on quickly and climbed out of Sam’s lap, giving him a sweet kiss.
“Are you two decent” Dean yelled through the door
Sam was uncomfortably shifting around, pulling the blanket over his lap.
“Yep, just watching tv” You yelled back
You heard the door unlock and Dean entered the room, laughing at Sam’s messy hair and your disheveled shirt, he chose to keep his comments to himself and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Sam pulled you into him, his chest flush against your back, he wrapped his arms around you, and you snuggled into him. You could tell he was still aroused, his erection poking you. You giggled at his issue, and he sighed but also laughed.
“We’ll get our own room next time” he told you and placed a kiss on the top of your head.
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shooting-love-arrows · 1 year ago
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 reacts to...cheater! reader
Request made by Anon:
Hi! I just read your post about yan 1950 house husband, it's amazing. Can you write his reaction if reader cheated on him? If you don't feel comfortable with this ask, feel free to ignore this.  Remember to take care of yourself and have a nice day.
Hello to you too, dear Anon,
First of all, I must apologize but your request suddenly disappeared from my inbox! Thankfully, I have the content of your request saved in my google docs so I pasted it above. 
Putting that aside, although this topic is sensitive to some, I am fine with writing about that. 
I appreciate your words. It's very nice of you to think about little ol' me. I wish you a nice day too (even if it's not a daytime)!
Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon!
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [CHEATER!] reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied), your lovers genger isn't specified/mentioned/implied either. Don't be swayed by the curses used to describe them; Tw. cheating/indifelity from the reader, cursing, description of a m*urder, delusion (delulu is the solulu), emotional manipulation, gaslightning; A/N: As a person, I do not support this kind of behavior. This is only a piece of fiction, serving for entertaining purposes only.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Denial. Denial. Denial. At first 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 doesn’t believe it. No, he refuses to do so. You’re the most faithful and perfect partner known to the human kind. Right then, he's desperately holding on to that image. But unfortunately, evidence says otherwise. A simple photo, sent to him by your lover, secretly taken by some photographer is clearly showing you and (that whore) your lover, in some hotel room, in an intimate position. It is clear that day that you have an affair. 
“But what if my darling was forced to do this?”
That question sends him into a spiral of delusion, rage and sorrow. As a defence mechanism, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 made up a story where suddenly you were a victim in this whole situation. It was definitely your lover who has forced themselves on you. Probably blackmailed or worse, drugged you to have a taste of sweet love and burning passion you share while making love with him. 
“My poor darling…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 wailed, clenching his chest like someone was physically ripping away his still beating heart from it. Fat tears ran down his rosy cheeks, smudging his mascara and turning him into a crying mess. “I’ll avenge you, my darling. I won’t forgive what was done to you!”
He doesn’t even blink when he sends your lover into the pits of hell. There’s no hesitation when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 plans this hideous crime, making sure every detail is taken care of. And so, it begins small, like creating false and disgusting rumors about your lover. Day by day, he patiently destroys your lover's life. Until the day when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 poisons them through his signature pie and then proceeds to repeatedly stab your lover until no one is able to recognize them in the first place. 
"YOU WENCH!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 roared at the person who happened to be your lover. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" With every word he dove the sharp, kitchen knife deeper and harder into his victim's chest. "DIE!!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 yelled for the final time and knife one last time, straight in this whore heart. He was left alone in the empty and messy kitchen, covered in blood, panting and trying to catch his breath. 
In the end, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 begins to gaslight you. Once again, with the patience of a saint, he began to manipulate you to believe that it was in fact your lover who was using you all this time. You were forced into this vile affair and you are a victim. 
“My innocent darling, you mustn't think about it (them) anymore. I will make everything perfect once again.”
But isn’t it weird how he started wearing clothes that are scarily similar to those worn by your lover? Sniff…sniff…and those perfumes…
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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gojipink · 8 months ago
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kiss it better
ஐ ft. childe
ஐ summary. you told your boyfriend you'll kiss his bruises better, so what happens when his dick aches too?
ஐ warnings. (N)SFW, mdni, fem!reader, deep throating , dirty talk, fem. pet names. 1.2k words
ஐ notes. if i make a blowjob mini series, who would u wanna see!
truthfully, you dont even know how you ended up here; childe supporting his weight against the bathroom sink counter and you kneeling in between his legs, knees cushioned by the bath mat. 
“babbbyyy,” he drawls out with a pout, breaking you out of your thoughts. he teasingly pushes the head of his hard cock against your face, leaky tip smearing precum against your cheek, “you said you wanted to kiss it better, right? you said you’ll kiss everything that was hurting me, didn’t you angel?” 
you huff at him, “i was talking about your bruised face and your knuckles, you perv! i didn't know you would get hard from just a small kiss on your cheek!” 
he scoffs and rolls his eyes, “a perfectly natural reaction to your kisses, i believe. now c’mon give it a kiss, it hurts way more than any of these bruises do,” he says while flashing his boyish grin at you.
you roll your eyes at him before letting a glob of spit fall into the palm of your hand while maintaining eye contact with the harbinger. the lewd sight making childe’s eyes instantly haze with lust as he gently combs the hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail so he can see better.
you take his cock into your hands and lightly work up and down his length, making sure to twist your wrist when nearing his tip. the slick sounds and childe’s light groans sending a shock of arousal straight to your clit. 
his dick twitches with impatience in your hold, “angel, don't tease,” he huffs. “you have no idea how good you look right now. be good for me, baby c’mon, kiss it, it hurts,” he near whines while his grip on your hair tightens, making your breath hitch. 
looking up at him with lust filled eyes, your tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the bead of pre-cum oozing from his slit before planting a wet and exaggerated mwah on his swollen tip. 
childe grins from above you, blue iris nearly swallowed up by his blown out pupils. “s’cute, princess, fuck such a good girl, aren’t you?” 
you hollow your cheeks sucking on his tip while you hum in agreement. the vibrations causing his hips to buck into your mouth a little, making you both moan out. 
“mmmh, the base hurts too, baby. you wanna try kissing it there too, hm?” 
 you pull him out of your mouth with a wet plop, your hand replacing your tongue as you circle your palm around his sensitive head, making his jaw clench tight. 
“can’t reach back there without your help, ajax,” you pout up at him. 
he swears he nearly blows his load from how cute you look saying such a dirty sentence.
“oooh shit,” he breathes out a small laugh, “you want me to help you reach, pretty girl?” he coos, “i’ve got you, baby, say ahhh.” 
“ahhhhh,” you maintain eye contact while opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, giving him a little show as your hands come up to lightly rake your nails along his thigh. 
he grips the base of his cock as he lightly taps his sensitive head against your tongue a couple times, smirking to himself at the obscene plap, plap sounds. 
he stands away from the sink counter to give himself more stability as he inches his long cock into your mouth, hands gripping your hair tight to keep your head still. 
“o-oh, fuck,” he curses under his breath as he feels your hot tongue drag further and further down the underside of his shaft. his mushroom tip hits the back of your throat, throat constricting around him tightly as you choke around him. 
“a-ah! mhm that’s it, sweet girl, just relax f’me,” he lightly thrusts, slowly letting your throat adjust to him. “breathe baby, you’re doing so well. just a lil’ more, ugh making me feel so much better, aren't you, pretty?” 
you look up at him with tear dotted eyelashes, eyes glazed over with need, head a little fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. 
“a-almost there, mmh- such a good girl, yeah? doing such a good job kissin’ on me like this.”
his constant praise making you squeeze your thighs together, feeling the wetness pool in your own underwear, making a sticky mess. 
you whine needily around him, desperate to feel his cum down your throat already. taking a hand away from his thighs to play with his balls, giving them a light squeeze, trying to encourage him to go a bit faster. his breath hitches at the feeling of your gentle touch, feeling the white hot pleasure build at the base of his spine.
“o-oh shit-! big breath angel, ngh- gonna kiss the base for me? gonna make it feel all better, hm?” he slurs out, drunk off the feeling of making a mess out of your throat.
you take in a quick greedy inhale of air through your nose, your hands making their way back to his thighs, digging your nails into his toned flesh. his fingers, twisted in your hair, push your head forward to meet his thrusts, his flushed tip nestled deep between the tight walls of your throat. 
“f-fuck! mmmmh-! ooh sh-shit!” 
feeling your throat struggle to accommodate his dick as it flexes and constricts around him forces him to immediately shoot white ropes of cum down your throat, head tilted up towards the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted together.
your lips meet the skin of the base of his cock in sloppy open mouth kisses as his hips stutter against your throat making you both moan out obscenely. 
“r-right there, oooh goooood girl. good. fuckin’. girl.” he punctuates each praise with short plunges in your throat before gently pulling his softening cock out of your mouth. 
throat finally free of the obstruction, you slump to the floor as you cough and swallow lungfuls of fresh air, fucked out tears and saliva smudged along your face. 
recovering quickly, he wets a hand towel before crouching down to meet you on the floor, gently wiping down your face. 
“s’good for me, baby. did so good, made me feel so much better, pretty. only you could make me feel like that, hm?” he showers you in praise as he cleans you up, grinning at you when he notices a small dopey smile come through on your lips as you catch your breath. 
“alright, upsy daisy, can't let my girl sit here on the cold tile now, can i?” he scoops you up into his strong arms as he lifts you up bridal style off the bathroom floor. entering your bedroom, he lays you down gently on the plush covers of the bed. 
he has a lovesick smile painted on his face as he pets your hair, watching your breathing slow back down to normal. reaching over you to litter your face in small kisses, you breathlessly giggle at his silly display of aftercare. you open your eyes to peek up his beaming face. 
“theeeere’s my princess! you rest here for a sec, i’ll go make some hot tea. i already know your voice is gonna sound a little fucked out,” he giggles. 
“ajax!” you hoarsely whisper shout at him, weakly swatting at his arm. his boyish laugh fills the room as he bounces up from the bed to hurry into the kitchen. 
“you stay there and rest for a second! it’ll be your turn when i get back!” 
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anantaru · 1 year ago
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DAY 31 — drunk sex
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
a/n. hello loves! this concludes the last day of my kinktober, thank you so much to everyone who read along and supported my stuff <3 it means a lot to me and I had so much fun!! after taking a day off, i will post three bonus kinks that will be posted from the 2nd-4th november, that's all and i love you all — yoru <3
𖧡 — including — kazuha, venti
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, drunk syx, teasing venti & dom venti, wall syx, touch starved, both parties are consenting
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𖧡 — KAZUHA
sometimes you forget that even kazuha can be defenseless against alcohol and it's negative reactions on the body, let alone make yourself join him in order to watch out for your boyfriend which wasn't originally that big of a deal— despite both of you now, being batshit drunk, randomly lost outside a dark alleyway and essentially starved for each others touch.
"so cute," kazuha coos and hiccups against your lips, "please, voice your pleasure out to me, i yearn to hear you."
to your surprise, it was a miracle that you both were even able to stand tall with all the alcohol you had consumed earlier running through your veins, and well, the truth was— you haven't seen each other for a while, and what better way was there to catch up on your lives with a couple glasses of dandelion wine accompanying adventurous stories and daily activities.
kazuha eagerly pulls at your bottom lip between his teeth as he whines when you suddenly pull yourself away, "come back," he pouts, "one more, heh, ’please," attempting to kiss you again as you dodge him flawlessly.
yet, he wouldn't be sad for too long— because you see, you could barely wait to feel him as well, not just those small, hasty kisses he would plant on you, but the real thing, the one you missed dearly as you turn your body around so your back could face him, your plush ass greedily wiggling over his rigid erection and drawing a low grumble out of his chest.
oh my, you're just so desperate, and kazuha doesn't even try to conceal his excitement when he flips your skirt up, followed by dragging your slicked panties down so they could clumsily dangle around your knees. so now, as he fists his erection in his palm, gathering his pre cum over his shaft so he wouldn't hurt you upon entering your warmth, you bite back a whimper when he nudges his cockhead against your hole before slowly entering you.
"baby," you pant, "hurry, please more," his painfully red and swollen cock gradually filling you up as your own body grows on hotness, almost feeling as if set on fire when the cold wall you were being pressed against served as an easy way to cool yourself off.
kazuha sighs blissfully as he can finally, finally feel you again, he just missed you so much it practically burned his heart to be apart from you for such a long period of time, his head although ringing, the lingering scent of wine hovering between your bodies when everything appears as if trapped in a blur.
one hand, wraps around your waist while the other presses close to the cold wall to keep his stability, or well, both of your stabilities.
if anything, both of you would die of embarrassment tomorrow that you even had the audacity to fuck outside, shamelessly yearning for those shallow thrusts of his hips smacking against your plush ass that would drive you into absolute madness with unfaltering greed and begs to feel him even quicker, better and finer, his cock rolling in and out of your wet cunt and sending tingles down your spine, your legs wobbly and your erected nipples harshly brushing against the cold wall.
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𖧡 — VENTI
there was a sonata playing in your head on repeat, and at first— you wonder where it came from, then remember that you must've picked it up during the past hours of drowning yourself in booze together with venti happily joining you— and everything started out pretty innocent, in fact, you never really seemed to have looked at him for much longer than two seconds, aside from joyfully listening and humming along to his songs whenever he performed at the angels share.
groaning deeply, venti sloppily kisses your lips while fisting his semi hard erection into the little tunnel of his palm— and again, you curse yourself that you have never admired him from up close, despite the fact that your own vision was blurry, your head slightly spinning as you watch every curve and ridge of venti's solid abs tense and let go in tune with his cock rutting into his hand.
although he too, lets his eyes follow down your body and looks at your glossed up folds drenched in your own slick, your legs parted so he could settle himself in between, "I bet you're so soft," venti slurrs happily, moving forward to roll the leaking tip of his cock across your folds as you flinch at the feeling, pulling out a strangled sound that scratched over the back of your throat.
"you know," he starts, shamelessly nudging his tip over your fluttering hole— so shameless, in fact that you're wondering if it was just the alcohol making him exceptionally confident right now or if he's always like that, taking into consideration that the bard was treating himself to quite the amount of liquor day by day.
"i will admit... i never had the guts to speak to you," he cackles, practically admitting that he was harboring at least something for you, which, truthfully made you let out a surprised gasp— although you haven't thought about venti in such ways before, you were finding yourself drawn to him for whatever reason, it's almost like something divine would pull you to him whenever he performed songs that you considered your favorites.
"you— uh, really?" you breathe and swallow hard, and next thing you know he slides himself in without warning, huffing out a strangled groan as your wet warmth instantly envelopes around his shaft, rolling his hips all the way inside so he could grind against your neglected clit.
"venti!" you whine, "don't just— do that!" bucking your hips as he drapes his body on top of yours, your slick oozing out and wrapping around his shaft. but he grins slyly at you, slamming his dripping length into you as your wet heat clung onto him, your arms folded around his chest so you could whine and sob into his neck.
"me? do what?" feigning innocence, he reaches up to squeeze one breast, and the sight of you enjoying how he pumps his thickness into you was intoxicating, so erotic that he violently twitches inside your tight hole.
"oh, silly!" he continues, "you're so cute, with your mouth open, looking all desperate!" and before you can even answer to that, he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, his harsh thrusts making you moan into his mouth as he skillfully inches back and forth your tight cunt.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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skyeslittlecorner · 29 days ago
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Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful Halloween!
Will it be all right if I request the WHB King's reactions to MC wearing One of those sexy Halloween costumes (any of your choice!)
You're writing is extremely well done And I really enjoy reading your work!
Have a nice day or night :3
Hello! And thank you! And yes, and thank you! I'm writing this answer early, because the time it's posted, I'm probably sitting with family and friends. Hope I can brighten up your three minutes with my silly ideas 
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
You came to Satan in a mummy costume, covering strategic places with bandages. He is delighted. For this joy he will kick anyone who looks at you, and he will want to take you here, now, in this corner, on this wall. The bandages you wore will grow to the status of relics. Satan will tie them around his wrists for difficult fights, and small pieces will be used to tie the most seriously wounded warriors, as a reward and support in healing.
Mammon won't be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you dressed as an Egyptian queen. Dripping with gold and silk, half-naked, combining inaccessibility with luxury... This will be Tartaros' favorite Halloween, because Mammon will take you on his knees and open up the throne room, accepting audiences for ordinary devils. Let all the devils see how beautiful and powerful their queen and his Master is, before he takes you to his chambers to ruin your expensive makeup.
Leviathan will be disgusted when he sees your exposed shoulders, tight corset and short skirt with a deep cut if you dress up as a pirate. What kind of idea is that? And that knife on your thigh. You want to fight with anything? With this? Foolish human. As a pirate, you should be ready to fight a kraken... and he can show you how dangerous and big the tentacles are.
You know those edible bracelets made of powdered candy? This is what the bikini Beelzebub will send you is made of. Only there will be less candy than on this bracelet. So that you can somehow go out on the town, you'll throw on his coat and tie it tightly around your waist. Improvisation is all you have left. You grab your markers, open the phone gallery and in the mirror, sloppily, scribble words on your body; Beel's tattoos. You'll steal Bael's glasses, and voila! Avisos, don't count on seeing your king, because when he sees you, he'll get obsessed. Do you want to be his so much that you're dressed up as him? Do you miss him so much? Come here. All you'll see for the next few hours is him and his clones; he'll point out every mistake in your tattoos and make you learn them by heart on his own body.
For Lucifer, you really tried your best with the makeup. You came in torn clothes, with fake wounds painted all over your body. The poor devil almost had a heart attack when he saw you. He rushed to check which of them were real, and when it turned out that none, you only heard a quiet whisper and felt a warm breath on your cheek. "Not very convincing." he muttered disapprovingly, as if he almost didn't panic at your sight. "I'll help you make them better." He licked his lips. Looking at his sharp fangs... your makeup can't compare to what they will leave.
For Belphegor the sexiest thing you can do is dress up as a mattress, but he guesses that wasn't the purpose of this event. You put on a sexy outfit, drew some card designs, and slid some cards and dices under your clothes and into ruffles. You decided to present the devil with a fait accompli. Took his favorite dice and threw it under your bra. "Oops." You spread your hands as if you hadn't done it on purpose. "I think you lost something?" Although initially unfazed, you quickly motivated him to search... even though your ornaments would soon be the last thing he was interested in.
Asmodeus was hard (as always) to figure out… so you decided to ignore him completely and just have fun. Let's test our king. Will he really think you're sexy in *everything*? Even if you dress up as an inflatable T-Rex? You were already excited when you found out that there was no such thing in hell. Sucks. Annoyed, you decided to tease your king. With Eligos and Paimon you spent a good few days, preparing a tight black dress, a curly wig, and specific makeup. To them, you looked simply sexy; but when you stood before Asmodeus, made up like Lust, his eyes widened. After all, he’s a man of culture who spends most of his time on Earth. “Sassy.” He smiled menacingly as he ran his finger over the tattoo between your collarbones. “Do you want to mock me or please me? Oh, well… Guess I have to ignite you.” Others better appreciate your creation before he sees you, because there will be absolutely nothing left of it.
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harzilla · 14 days ago
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So I got two asks related to the lost sibling AU and I decided to put them together. Nothing is set in stone in this AU.
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In the famous words of Bartok the bat, Can only end in tears!
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If we're talking the bioparents/bio family then a lot of them are shocked, thrilled, even in tears. The reactions vary depending on the family.
🌹Riddle struggles with actually telling his mother. His relationship with his mother is extremely complicated. He just had his entire world view turned upside down and coming to realize his mother has been abusive, and on top of that he finds out that he nearly killed his twin. It takes a long time for Riddle to finally tell his mother and Yuu's there to support him. The two hold hands as Riddle reveals the truth to their mother along with the DNA test that proves they're a match. Riddle's mother immediately going with the idea of Yuu moving back home and learning to be a proper Roseheart. Maybe even hating Yuu's adopted family and thinking they kidnapped Yuu. It's just snowballs into this huge fight between Riddle, Yuu, and their mother. It takes a long, long time before the relationship between parent and children is repaired.
🦁 The second ask specifically talks about Leona's family. While I think it was never stated if Farena was there(but let's just say he was), we know Cheka was. Cheka is, absolutely thrilled. "Who's this? You're a lion beastman too? Are you from the sunset savannah? You look a lot like Papa and Unca!" Leona pulling him off Yuu and grumbling at Cheka for overwhelming them. When Farena finds out he almost charges into the infirmary but Leona keeps him out. Yuu's been through enough already, they don't need to be dealing with Farena too. It isn't until Cloud Calling that Leona FINALLY introduced Yuu to his family in person and only because Yuu asks him to. He has no interest in dragging Yuu into the royal mess of his life and he's willing to ignore summons from his brother to do it. Farena's thrilled of course but Yuu's not exactly happy seeing the way Leona has been treated by the people he should be able to trust. Leona actually has to reel Yuu back from their anger towards Farena, Kifaji, and everybody else. Farena's feelings are mixed but he's happy to realize that Leona has somebody who genuinely sees him for himself. He realizes Leona's closer to Yuu in the short time he's known them, then he is to Farena.
Oh man. So I headcanon, at least in this AU, that mer mamas are fiercely protective of their kids and bigger then their male counterparts. I think Azul's mama and the twin's mama would both show up at the school because, hell or high water they are going to meet their long lost child! No noisy crowman is gonna stop them!
🦈🐬 The twins mama in particular is downright scary. Imagine this really tall lady showing up at NRC. She's really nice to the kids but when she meets Crowley she gets that look on her face and tone and ohh yes, now you realize that she's far more scary then the twins if she wants to be. She squeezes the twins excited to see them but they absolutely have to bring her to Yuu. I see it like when Sophie and her mom are reunited in Howl's moving castle. Excitedly yelling "my baby!" While practically tackling Yuu, crying her eyes out. Holding Yuu's face and bombarding them with questions. Were you taken care of? You look so small! Were you being fed enough? Do we need to send you an allowance? These clothes look dreadful we must get you a new wardrobe. Worried Mama mode activated. Mama bought ready to drag Yuu home but compromises by Yuu coming home during spring break. At least it gives them time to prepare Yuu's room.
🐍 Now, Jamil's family is probably the only ones who actually don't know. Jamil is willing to bury the fact that Yuu is his sibling because, he realizes that if he tells the truth, he's potentially locking Yuu into a lifetime of servitude. There's only a few people on campus who know the truth. Kalim absolutely knows but he promised Jamil he wouldn't reveal it, but it's like how he was willing to fight against Jade's UM because his conviction to keeping Jamil's UM hidden is that strong. Kalim would love to see the two being siblings openly, but he still tries in his own Kalim way
👑 Ohh, this one's interesting. So we know zero things about Vil's mother. So, in this AU, Vil's father Eric used a surrogate. The thing is, the surrogate hid the fact she was pregnant with twins(listen if Lilia can just find a baby and people are chill with it then we can headcanon how adoption and surrogacy works in Twst). Carefully orchestrating it so Eric only knew about one baby. Thus when the twins were born she handed over Vil and disappeared with Yuu. Nobody can track down this woman or the other baby. Eric and Vil never even knew another baby existed. So, imagine Eric's surprise when Vil calls him after book 6 asking if his father knew about a second child. Yuu finally getting to meet Eric in person, and he apologized to Yuu because he didn't get to see them grow up. Eric asking Yuu if it's okay for him to be part of their life. Probably one of the few times Vil has seen his father cry and possibly vice versa.
💀 Cue another excited mama. Oh Idia wants to not involve Yuu in the mess that is the Shroud family curse. But kind of hard, when their hair ignited into the signature shroud flaming hair during Idia's overblot in the middle of S.T.Y.X. She's so absolutely excited that she's trying to ask Yuu 100 different questions, you mean to tell me the Shroud curse didn't developed in Yuu until almost adulthood? Mama is very interested to know about Yuu and their life. Idia almost pities Yuu and Ortho's so excited because his family is all together again! Papa Shroud is much calmer at least.
🐉 Oh I've delved a lot into Malleus and Yuu. I was actually thinking what if... during book 7 when they're in the memories and meet Maleanor. What if she orders everybody to leave except for Yuu. Yuu's so confused because this woman before them feels so familiar, they just watched her nearly strike everybody down with lighting while she yelled at them but the vibe is completely different now. Maleanor being surprisingly gentle with Yuu. Through whatever magic it may be, Maleanor can tell. Yuu crying because Maleanor calls them her precious hatchling and tells them how much they've grown. It's after Malleus' overblot that Yuu finally gets to meet Maleficia. Maleficia who says that Yuu truly looks so much like Revern. Maleficia who welcomes Yuu home.
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denileisariver · 9 months ago
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imagine bruce catching you humping a batman plushie <3
dick comes home one day with a massive box filled with superhero merch, the rest of the family emptying it out quickly, sporting their favorite heroes memorabilia.
at first, bruce doesn't think much of it. he thinks it's cute that they want to show their support, showing love to the people they grew up to be inspired by. that is up until he realizes none of them at all have anything that is remotely dedicated to batman whatsoever.
dick and his stupid superman hoodie, jason with wonderwoman joggers, duke with flash shoes, barbara with dinah's band on a t-shirt, stephanie with a damn green arrow cup. seriously? green arrow?
it makes him grumpier than usual, highkey lowkey insecure because while he is gothams beloved hero, he isn't their hero. he doesn't acknowledge his family besides a grunt here or a shrug there, going nonverbal and isolating himself because he's jealous of the other members of the justice league and is too much of a hard ass to admit it.
so he decides to go to the only person he feels that he can confide in without judgment. you. bruce had been away from you for way too long, even avoiding you because he felt that his reaction was childish, and it really wasn't the big deal he was making it out to be.
so after a couple of days of him wallowing in his self-pity, he goes up to your room after patrol, knowing you usually stood up until late hours of the night waiting for the families return, even though he specifically told you not to.
he isn't aware of what you're doing on the other side of the door, wearing one of bruce's old sweatshirts that his scent still lingered on, and a pair of batman panties that you bought discreetly, before dick had even brought all the other superhero merch to the manor.
you're grinding your precious cunt on the face of a batman plushie that you did take from the box, whimpering mindless babbles of how much you missed bruce, how much you needed him.
you don't notice him opening your bedroom door, completely oblivious that he's staring at you slack-jawed, his cock twitching in excitement in his suit. bruce's eyes follow the curve of your ass that looked so perfect, covered in batman logos all over it. then catching the pointy bat-ears that stuck out from underneath you, moving in cadence with the rock of your hips.
oh. so this is what you do when he's not there.
he guesses that you must've been doing this for a while now, because your back is arching and your movements become increasingly sloppy, toes curling and making a mess of the plush beneath you. he curses to himself a bit in a small whisper, palming the buldge in his pants that was begging to be released.
"that's it, princess. make yourself cum,"
the sound of his voice makes you jump, whining in surprise. you get all flustered, embarrassment replacing how horny you were, almost. batting your lashes at him, you're unsure if you should continue, but bruce tuts in disapproval, urging you to keep going.
"did i tell you to stop?"
you waste no more time, not wanting to annoy him in case he decided to make you get off without his help. it doesn't take long at all, your clit swollen and sensitive from repeatedly rubbing it on the poor stufie, the friction quickly sending you over the edge. you bend over, both because your legs are weak and tired out and to give bruce a better view of your desperation.
your panties stick to your pussy because they're so soaked, outlining the pretty folds of it, your cunt fluttering around nothing. bruce pulls at your underwear, the fabric lifting and going between your tiny seam, your labia wet and exposed for him. the action emits a small moan from you, gently swaying your ass in front of him, hoping to entice him enough to fuck you. which it does.
he squeezes one of your asscheeks with a large hand, grabbing the batman plushie from underneath you and inspecting it. it's damp, the smell of your arousal filling his nostrils. he has to resist licking your slick off of it, but he doesn't see the point in doing so when he has the real thing right in front of him.
so he tosses it to the side, grabbing and flipping you over so you're straddling his chest. his calloused hands grope at your thighs, pulling you a little closer to his mouth.
"if you wanted to ride my face, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart."
you never been more grateful in your life for being a greedy little slut than you are now.
a/n: yes this was inspired by that one webtoon :p
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