#this show was surprisingly easy to color

[aether-weather]

ermm i dont have any new art to post because. my ipad is currently COUGH COUGH unavailable sooo have this sketch page from when i saw violent vira w/ my friend!! :)

(istg if tumblr eats the quality im actually gonna lose it)

anyways the song theyre singing in the righthand corner is tarantula girl!! i really recommend it cause its super good :D

i recommend any songs by vira actually (shes amazing i love her) but especially collar of truth and lolita cause those are my favorites :]

[pyrriax]

hi tumblr im pyrr pyrriax and im in my trimonthly artist arc, lord help me and all the projects that are currently sitting in my drafts while i am lured in by the siren song of drawing

[springtyme]

for the 🍂 can we have some aaron hotch x female reader where she is bonding with jack after having become his step mom? i would love that. your writing is so beautiful and i love how you write very much 🧡thank you

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 ♡

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: After having dated Aaron for a good while and becoming close with his son, you've finally taken the next step and moved in with them. Now, the three of you are taking a weekend trip to bond as a family.

word count: 1.2k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗) 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels resonates in your chest as you glance out the window, the vibrant hues of fall foliage blurring into a watercolor of oranges, reds, and yellows. The crisp air sneaks in through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the scent of earth and damp leaves. You’re on a much-anticipated trip with Aaron and Jack. It's a rare moment of respite away from the complexities of the BAU for Aaron, and a chance for you to bond as a new family. 

Jack is sitting in the seat next to you, drawing a very colorful picture of a dog. He has been drawing a lot of dogs lately, which he has strategically left around the house. Aaron showed you one he had found in his briefcase folder the other day, tucked neatly between pages filled with reports. ‘Guess we have to give that boy a dog,’ you had said. You can’t help but smile as you look down at the little boy next to you, his concentration evident in the way his brow furrows slightly as he adds streaks of green for rolling hills and bright blue for the sky. 

You had been scared to take on the role of stepmom, afraid of doing it wrong, but it’s now been two months since you moved in with Aaron and Jack, and it has been a surprisingly easy experience. Every day feels like a new adventure, filled not only with the challenge of blending into a family but also with the simple joys of watching Jack grow and express himself.

You turn your head and catch a glimpse of Aaron across the aisle. He’s engrossed in a book, brows furrowed in that familiar way that only intensifies his rugged good looks. There’s something utterly comforting about the way he immerses himself in stories, yet you find it somewhat amusing that he always manages to select the most serious literature, even amidst the simplicity of a train ride.

“Dad,” Jack’s voice breaks the quiet, pulling you from your thoughts. He leans forward, resting his elbows and forearms on the table, eyes wide with uncontained excitement. “Can we get hot cocoa when we stop?”

Aaron’s gaze lifts from his book, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Sure, buddy. How about we find a café and grab some pastries too?”

Jack practically bounces in his seat, and you feel an overwhelming warmth at the sight of Aaron with his son. After years of navigating the complexities of being a single dad and a dedicated agent, seeing him cherish these moments of joy lights you up inside. 

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I think that sounds like a perfect plan. We should make it a tradition every time we travel in the fall.”

Jack whips his head, looking up at you with wide, excited eyes as he nod eagerly at your idea. 

Aaron sets his book down, shifting his full attention to you and Jack. “Tradition it is.” His eyes lock with yours, a spark passing between you as the train looms forward.

A few minutes pass, filled with the sounds of the train and Jack’s enthusiastic recounting of his latest school project. You steal moments to appreciate Aaron across from you—the way his hair falls just slightly over his forehead, the way he listens intently to Jack, genuinely engaged, his expression softening as he nods with pride.

You can’t help but smile as Jack’s laughter ricochets around the compartment, a melody you find comforting. This is what you wanted—a family. And in this cozy train cart, it feels as though everything is right in the world.

Suddenly, Aaron reaches across the aisle, his hand brushing against yours. The gentle connection sends a flutter through your chest, and you look over, meeting his gaze. There’s a tenderness there, a silent affirmation of how far you’ve come together, how much you’ve both invested in this newfound family.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, his voice low, almost a whisper among the noises of the train.

You chuckle softly, your cheeks warming. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you say, shifting in your seat to fully face him. 

His thumb brushes against your knuckles thoughtfully, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m the lucky one,” he replies, his eyes shining with sincerity. “We’re making great memories. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy them as much.”

Your heart swells at his words. “You’re a great dad, Aaron. It’s really inspiring.”

He shakes his head slightly, as if the compliment makes him shy. “It’s easy to be good when you have you two in my life.”

Before another word can unravel between you, Jack bangs a fist on the table in excitement. “Look! The trees are all yellow and red! Can we take a picture?” 

You laugh at his infectious energy and nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely!” 

You open your purse and take out the disposable camera you had bought for your trip and hand it to Jack. You help him reposition it so he can capture the vivid scenery outside. As he angles the camera towards the window, he squeals in delight. He takes a picture of the scenery outside the window before turning to point the camera at Aaron. 

“Say cheese, dad!” Jack giggles, and you can’t help but laugh at his infectious joy, which bounces between you and Aaron like a pulse of happiness. 

Aaron obliges and Jack snaps a picture of his dad, giggling with excitement before handling the camera over to Aaron. 

“Now take one of us!” Jack urges, his eyes sparkling with thrill.

Aaron takes the camera, looking between you and Jack, a soft smile spreading across his face. There’s a shared warmth in the space between the three of you, a cocoon of laughter and happiness that feels almost magical. You place your arm around Jack and he leans against you, your heart fluttering with warm affection as you pull him a little closer.

“Alright, big smiles,” Aaron says, lifting the camera to capture the moment. You make a silly face while Jack beams with joy, his mouth wide open in a grin, a perfect reflection of the pure happiness radiating from him.

The click of the camera echoes in the small compartment, sealing the memory of this perfect moment in time. As the train chugs along, the afternoon sun begins to dip a little lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow through the window. You see the sparkle in Jack’s eyes, the way he revels in the joy of the here and now, and the warmth of Aaron’s presence feels like a comforting embrace.

“You think we’ll remember this day forever?” Jack asks, his voice a soft whisper, batting those big eyes up at you both.

Smiling down at him, you nod. “Absolutely, buddy. This is the start of many wonderful adventures together.”

Aaron gazes at you, a knowing smile gracing his lips, and in that moment, you realize the truth of your words. The laughter, the love, and the memories you’re weaving—they’re not just moments; they’re the foundation of your new family.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels becomes a soothing lullaby, wrapping around you all as you lean back into your seat, Jack snuggled against you, and Aaron’s hand resting gently on your knee. Outside, the world blurs into a tapestry of colors, mirroring the vibrant joy in your heart.

In this fleeting moment, you understand that together, you’re crafting a life filled with warmth, laughter, and unbreakable bonds—a life that feels just right.

[teamatsumu]

exclusive. (gojo satoru x reader)

summary: A series of moments with Gojo Satoru, leading to the moment you realize you’re in love with him.

word count: 2,223

warnings: swearing, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), jujutsu high shenanigans, this is pretty harmless fluff

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

Anyone who met Gojo Satoru for the first time had a visceral reaction to him.

Either they found him loud, obnoxious and annoying (both Shoko and Suguru described that as their first impressions of him), or they were starstruck by him. After all, he was Gojo Satoru. The wielder of the most powerful cursed technique in the Jujutsu world at present. The brilliant Six Eyes. And even at such a young age he showed potential that made the higher ups nervous.

And he was easy on the eyes too. Tall, lean, porcelain pale skin, hair like snow and eyes brighter than the blue skies. It was in the way he carried himself, shoulders set back, chin held high, imposing and demanding that all eyes met him. Girls were endlessly obsessed with him, with the idea of him. And he ate that shit up.

You however, would argue that you didn’t have any impression of him at all. He was just there. Okay, that was Gojo Satoru. Cool. Time to just shrug and walk away. He wasn’t exactly someone you had to interact with daily. He was a year older, in a different class. He had friends of his own. And he was quite literally famous. Why would he bother with you?

What you didn’t know about Gojo Satoru was that he didn’t need any reason to be obnoxious. He just was. Seeing someone indifferent to his existence lit a fire in him, and he was adamant on making sure you noticed him. One way or the other.

“So it doesn’t matter to you if I’m cursing you out? As long as I’m paying attention to you?”

You eyed him, watching as he leaned back on the two back legs of the chair he was sitting in until it teetered dangerously. The action kind of put you on edge but you would be damned if you let him know that it bothered you. Mostly because if he knew then he would never stop doing it.

He snapped his fingers and grinned in the affirmative.

“All press is good press.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, it sounds cool.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your textbook. A bout of silence fell on you for a few brief moments, before Satoru felt the urge to ruin it again.

“You’re not gonna fail.”

You didn’t look up. “Thanks?”

“So stop studying.”

You sighed, still not looking at him. You flipped a page. A hand grabbed at your open book, shutting it with a soft thud. You finally turned to glare at the boy. Over the curve of his shades, his eyes were as blue as ever. He grinned wide.

“There she is. Hey, pretty girl.”

Another thing about him, he flirted endlessly.

Your scowl deepened, trying to will away the heat that rushed to your ears. It was annoying, almost frustrating, how easy he thought it was to get under your skin. Saying shit like this as if it didn’t mean anything. Casual. Unserious.

Your train of thought broke when he reached forward and pinched your cheek hard. You yelped and pushed him hand away, wrestling against his strength when he tried to twist closer to you. By the time Suguru and Kento walked into the classroom, he had you pinned on the desk and was messing your hair up the best he could while you called him every colorful name you could think of.

Suguru didn’t bat an eye. Kento just sighed. This was, unfortunately, normal.

You, of course, didn’t fail your exam. Surprisingly, neither did Satoru, even though you had not seen him open a book once. Practical application was one thing (Satoru excelled in that of course), but how did he manage to get the theory right? He had spent every minute of his prep days either bothering you in person, sending you endless text messages, or lounging around in your room and watching TV. The fact that he passed and was now a third year was more surprising to you than the fact that you passed. At least you studied for it.

“You just wanted me to fail so I would be held back for the year and we could be classmates.” Satoru grinned, peeling open a packet of those overly sweet jellies he loved eating. You snorted, turning over in your bed and pulling your sheets up higher. It was nearly 10 in the morning, and Satoru had woken you up with the news that results were out and both of you had passed. Your body was still sluggish, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and residual sleep.

“Is that your breakfast?” You watched him lean back and shake the entire bag of jellies straight into his mouth from above. Your face twisted in disgust.

“Yup. Gotta start the day right.”

You didn’t bother to argue, shoving your face into the pillow and hoping it would suffocate you to death. You heard shuffling and then felt the mattress dip, grunting when you felt something heavy fall over your back.

“So what do you wanna do today?”

You let out a pained sigh, not bothering to turn and look at him, or his legs that were likely draped over you.

“I was planning to sleep in but I guess I can’t do that anymore.” Your tone was dry.

“Damn right. Let's go to the city.”

“Can’t you go bother Getou-san?”

“He isn’t as fun.”

You turned your head to look at him, just in time to see him pull apart a chocolate bar. Your eyes widened in horror.

“No!” You shoved him hard and he toppled off the bed with a loud ‘oof’, until all you could see was his legs hanging in the air.

“What the fuck?” His tone was more baffled than it was pained. You saw his messy head of hair pop up over the edge of the bed, his eyes wide, glasses nowhere to be seen.

“You’ll get chocolate on my sheets!”

“So you pushed me off?” Before he could pull himself back up, you rushed forward, trying to keep him down, slipping off the edge and falling right on top of him. You grabbed the hand with the chocolate, prying it from his fingers. You placed it carefully on your side table, finally sighing and leaning back, looking down at the boy before you. Or more accurately, under you.

Satoru was wearing a huge, toothy grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows. He seemed to have completely forgotten his chocolate. His hands rested on your bare thighs, fingers just shy of the hem of your shorts.

“You know what, you can keep the chocolate. I’m fine right here.”

You glared at him, standing up to walk away, but not before you dug a foot into his stomach. Satoru groaned, but still grinned, grabbing your ankle.

“You should just let things happen, baby. We’d be great together, you know?”

You didn’t let his words get to you, nor did you let your mind dwell on how soft his fingers felt around your ankle, or how his hands had felt on the bare skin of your thighs. You couldn’t think about it, because nothing Satoru did was real. He was just playing. He was a good friend who tried annoying you as much as possible. That’s it.

It didn’t matter that he whined your name whenever you ignored him, or how he would wrap his arms around you until you were curled under him, or how he would pin your arms down so you wouldn’t struggle when he laid sloppy, obnoxious kisses on your cheeks and forehead. Your couch was his permanent bed, and he claimed he was there because your TV was bigger than his. You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just buy a TV for his room. He was loaded.

You don’t know at what point everyone started assuming you were dating, but when Shoko vocalized this perception, you felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you.

“We are not dating. What the fuck? I can barely stand him.”

You ignored the petulant ‘hey’ that left his lips, focused on your upperclassman across the table from you. Shoko was blank-faced, giving you a look that said ‘really?’. You didn’t back down.

“We aren’t! We’re good friends, yes, but-”

A snort from beside you, and finally you turned your head to glare at him. Satoru’s lips were twisted into an amused smirk, and the sight of it annoyed you. You felt like everyone at the table- Shoko, Suguru, Kento, Haibara- were laughing at you. Your face burned in embarrassment, so you lashed out at the one man who always bore the brunt of it.

“Why are you smirking? Wipe that off your face.”

He shrugged, ignoring what you said. “I just think it’s funny that you think we aren’t dating.”

“We’re not.”

“Sure.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “We’re not! What the fuck are you on? We’ve never even kissed!”

Just talking about this was making you squirm uncomfortably, let alone in front of all your friends.

“You were practically in my lap in the car on our way here.”

You smacked his bicep hard. “There were six of us! And it was a tight fit! And- you offered!”

He was grinning by now, leaning closer to you. “Of course I did. We’re dating.”

You blinked, shocked into silence. A few moments passed. “This is gaslighting. You’re gaslighting me.”

You heard a snort and turned your head towards Haibara, who tried to disguise it as a cough.

“Okay, if we’re not dating, explain this to me,” Satoru began, pulling your attention back to him. You tried to will your heart into beating slower.

“Would you have put your legs in Suguru’s lap?”

You sputtered, feeling your face burn as you glanced at the man in question, he looked unbothered.

“No! That’s- no.”

“Nanami? Haibara?”

You didn’t answer.

“Shoko?”

“She’s my senpai.”

“I’m your senpai too.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sure don’t act like it.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Satoru continued, ignoring your quip. His voice was jovial, slightly teasing, and you dreaded where he was going with this. “There’s some stuff you would do only with me?”

You glared at him.

“Almost like…… being exclusive?”

“We are not dating.” Your argument was beginning to sound weaker and weaker. Everyone around you was staring at you with amusement as the gears turned at your head.

“Okay.” Satoru smiled, and you almost reeled back at how soft it was.

“We’re not.”

Oh my god.

……………………..

It took three or four days later to finally get your thoughts straight enough to talk to Satoru about the….. dating incident.

You had been over analyzing everything, trying to look at every interaction between you and him from a third person’s perspective, and you realized how abnormal it really was. No normal friends interacted the way you and Satoru did. Relentless teasing, touching, hugging. The unending push and tug. Caught in the whirlwind that was Gojo Satoru, you had not noticed how close you were to him, and how dependent you were on his presence.

Maybe he was right. In some strange way, you two were a couple.

You sat with this newfound information, feeling it burn and chip away at your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable. How were you supposed to bring this up with him? You watched the figures on the TV before you bound around, not absorbing anything that was being said, your attention only on the slowly simmering pot of water that was your brain and your thoughts. When your door swung open with a loud squeak, you finally looked up.

Satoru was humming something to himself as he lumbered in, spotting you on the couch and grinning.

“Hey, what are your dinner plans? I'm craving Korean barbecue.”

You stared at him for a bit, as he toed his shoes off and tried to struggle out of his uniform jacket. It settled in you like a soft cloud, the knowledge that there was nothing to talk about. Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood up.

“I’m going to change.” Your voice was low.

Satoru looked up, lips pursed into a confused pout that you almost thought was cute. “Why? You look great.”

You muscled past the compliment, not letting it get to you. “I’m going to put on a nice outfit. And do my hair. And you’re going to go change too. Dress fancy. It’s a date.”

Satoru watched you, mouth open like a goldfish, as you puttered through the room and to your closet. He was frozen, dumbfounded. It was a new look on him. And you discovered that you liked it very much. You feigned innocence as you turned to look back at him.

���What’s wrong? I thought we were dating?”

That seemed to break his trance, and a cheshire grin took over his face. He didn’t even bother putting his shoes back on, gathering them in his hands and bounding out the door, making you laugh at how eager he was.

Talking was overrated anyway. This way was more fun.

[rae-writes]

om boys cumcanons

nsfw 

Lucifer

off white, has the thickest consistency of his brothers; it actually can be a bit hard to swallow all at once sometimes because of that, so he practically keens whenever your cheeks are puffed, visibly full of his cum, as you take your time swallowing it all. Tastes a bit bitter from all the coffee he drinks, but it’s not unbearable, and you start to actually like it after a while

Mammon

pearl colored with a golden tint, creamy consistency; you would think it tastes like sugar with the way it looks, but it’s just a distinct Mammon taste (with a tang of sourness from all the hell-sauce), and the texture is perfect for making you greedy to come back for more, which he is all too happy to give

Levi

paper white, but has some transparency to it, with an iridescent shine— it’s thinner than his brothers and a bit runny; he cums a lot so the consistency is good for quickly swallowing it down (and for easy clean up). Tastes like candy— literally. Sometimes leftover beads of it will roll off your tongue when you open to show him and the sight drives him crazy

Satan

milky with a rather normal consistency, though sometimes it’s thicker depending on how pent up he was; it genuinely looks like milk and is very easy to swallow. Tastes rich and almost sweet, like a loaded coffee that gives you the energy to keep going and going until you’ve both had your fill (gives a whole new meaning to the nickname ‘kitten’)

Asmo

pearly with a rose gold tint to it, a bit on the thinner side; he actually likes painting your face/body with it, so it’s pretty to take photos of and not too messy to where it’ll be hard to clean off (and he tastes amazing- like a fruity mixture but not too sweet and not too sour) 

Beel

off white and has the second thickest consistency, though his is more of a creamy texture like Mammon’s; he cums the most out of all his brothers so it’ll definitely overflow out of your mouth (not that he minds the sight). Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste that bad, but you can’t really pinpoint the taste- it’s kind of bland, but given what he eats all the time, you’re okay with it

Belphie

milky, normal consistency, and glints under direct light (like stars); loves having you open your mouth with your tongue out and let his cum drip off- very aesthetic, tbh. He’s a mixture between sweet and bland yet it tastes so good, especially in the morning (where you can be caught giving him a wake up call with head on many occasions)

Diavolo

off white and is the third thickest consistency, but he comes so much (more than Beel) that it’s basically impossible to swallow it all down without either taking your time or having it dribble down your chin. Has a hint of sweetness, but it’s mostly bitter in taste, and even more so because of how much is in your mouth at once. Not the most pleasant, but you manage

Barbatos

paper white, bit of a thin consistency, but thick enough to where it’s pleasant as it pools in your mouth when he doesn’t allow you to swallow until he’s finished working; he’s a curious mix of bitter and shockingly sweet, it’s almost confusing on whether you love it or hate it (you love it, come on)

Simeon

pearly white with a pearlescent glimmer, and the consistency is perfect, just the right amount of thick and thin; and- and his taste??? Delicious— a delicacy, if you will. You could sit and swallow his cum down all day if you could (and when you tell him this during one of your cock-drunk spells while licking said cum up? he ascends. absolutely lets you overstimulate him till he’s passing out right then and there) 

Solomon

off white, on the thicker consistency side; and I know what you’re thinking- but he actually tastes good- it’s kind of irritating, really (and makes you just want to get on your knees instead when he offers to cook for you. He can’t complain though, not when you’re shoving your cum coated tongue in his mouth and making him agree, though that might just be because your taste was mixed in too)

[ch4bby]

I read two fics some time ago with Tim dancing along with Cass, and omg, it changed me- Because... JUST THINK ABOUT IT-

Tim being a rich kid, with really strict parents but who are flexible enough so that they don't have prejudices regarding very conventional gender roles. And thanks to this, Tim is put in classical ballet classes long enough to be able to wear pointe shoes.

Tim likes it to a certain extent, as the exercises, physical conditioning and muscle elongation help him to be able to follow the bat and bird duo around Gotham. Over time he stops attending classes either due to his parents' influence to focus on some other activity, or because he preferred that time to coordinate patrol routes and get more photos.

By the time he starts being Robin, he no longer attends ballet classes. The training left a small mark on the way he moves as Robin, but nothing too noticeable. He finds it easy to jump really high and is able to land silently and smoothly. He doesn't get dizzy easily thanks to the pirouettes and fouettes his teacher made him practice daily.

Also, training with Dick is easier than when he trains with Bruce, since with Dick there are really similar exercises thanks to the older boy's training in the circus as an acrobat. The elasticity is not comparable between the two, but Tim has enough so that some of Dick's exercises are not so impossible for him.

Cut out when Cass arrives and Tim notices that she likes ballet, and even more surprisingly, she dances ballet! It is thanks to this that Tim manages to find a common point between the two to be able to start a friendship, with Cass being really excited to know that Tim also knew ballet!

They both connect thanks to ballet, Tim, taking advantage of the fact that they were both quite similar in height and complexion (even in face, which still leaves him wondering sometimes if they weren't secret twins?) shares with her his leotards and shoes, at least the training ones. Because although Cass can stand on pointe with amazing ease, Tim prefers to help her go over the basic training to get on pointe. Because literally, those things break feet, and he doesn't want to see his adopted sister go through that (We're talking about Cass, though.)

By the time they've been through about two months of helping Cass go over the basics, and remembering moves she remembered seeing from when she lived in the basement of that Ballet school, she can get up on pointe, and Tim hands her some cute yellow pointe shoes that he got years ago, when Robin colors still drove him crazy. So when Cass wears them, they're flexible and soft, not hard and uncomfortable like the ballet slippers one recently bought.

And Tim, he has his cream pointe shoes to wear, also used and flexible, comfortable like an old toy you haven't used in a while and despite everything, you still know how to play with it.

They both select certain days to practice and dance different pieces of music, Tim occasionally teaching her the classical pieces she doesn't know, or showing her how to dance as a couple. Although for this he takes off his pointe shoes and goes back to his leather slippers.

They keep up this routine even when Damian arrives, and so far the only one who knows what they're doing is Alfred, basically because he's the one who usually does their laundry and tidies up the room they use to dance. Making sure the floor isn't too slippery and the furniture is pushed up against the walls to make room. Every now and then, they both invite him to watch a specific dance they've practiced, like a snippet from Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, or The Rite of Spring.

As more time passes, Cass takes more liberties in the dance and fuses ballet with something more contemporary, while Tim sticks to classical ballet. They keep dancing, but now each one gives a personal touch to each pirouette, pas couru, and movement. They make a temporary bar with pvp pipes, which despite everything, works wonders for them.

Maybe Bruce is the first one to find them, after a particularly tiring day in which he just wants to be alone for a few moments and decides to go to the rooms less used, he hears a classical melody from one of the rooms that supposedly, should be empty. And when he goes to see where the music was coming from and why, he finds his two children playing a fragment of Carmen (Gipsy friends duet) and is more than surprised by the ability not only of Cass, but of Tim! Bruce had no idea that Tim could dance ballet, did he learn it now from Cass? Or is it something he already knew?

Whatever the case, what surprises him the most is the amazing coordination of the two, they seem to be the reflection of each other. And with regret Bruce admits inwardly that if it weren't for the distinction of the clothes and the hairstyle, he would swear that he was seeing double.

[fatkish]

Aisles and Class 1A x Fem Quirkless reader platonic hcs who’s cold, reserved, but still polite and nice to others. She’s a strict badass who’s also street smart and masters a bunch of weapons like throwing knives, guns, pole arms, etc, to replace her lack of a Quirk. One of the top students as well as the scariest girl in class as she gives it her all in class, sending anyone who challenges her to the infirmary anytime they fought her. Unlike Izuku, who at least grew up with a parent’s love, she had nobody and had to survive on the streets and illegal underground rings, earning many nasty scars that she hides behind her bandages and clothing which she always covers up with stuff like scarfs, gloves, even if it’s super hot out. She craves any love but backs down due to heavy discrimination, bullying, etc. hcs?

(So I’m gonna assume that Aisles is Aizawa because I don’t recall a character with that name. Also I’m gonna make the reader similar to Illumi Zoldyck from HxH)

Aizawa & Class 1A x Quirkless Reader

Growing up in the underground was harsh and brutal. In order to survive you had to be willing to do whatever it took

Whether it was stealing food, or fighting, you did anything that could increase the chances of your survival

Living on the streets, you grew up facing villains and thugs in the alleys, they would see you as an easy target so you had to learn to protect yourself

After years of fighting and being subjected to multiple quirks, you’ve built up a high resistance to physical pain. Not that you can’t feel pain, you just tolerate more of it better than others

You’ve learned various techniques and skills when it comes to fighting but you’re not just skilled with combat

Having no parents, you had to learn to cook for yourself and became somewhat skilled in the culinary arts

In order to make up for not having a quirk, you learned to wield every possible weapon and mastered the use of each

And in order to have money, you fought in illegal and legal underground fighting rings. These fights landed you plenty of scars to the point that you’re covered in them

You wear bandages and long clothing to hide the scars, however your choice of style can make you look suspicious

Due to growing up the way you did, you developed a rather cold and reserved personality but you maintained your manners and are very polite

You don’t really show a lot of emotion which can make people uncomfortable being around you, but you don’t really care

Originally, you weren’t going to go to highschool but you came across Aizawa one night when you were cornered by some thugs. He was about to step in when you seemingly appeared behind the thugs, then they all fell down unconscious. Aizawa thought you used a teleportation quirk. He understood that you were essentially homeless and had no family so he offered for you to stay with him for the night

As he began to understand your predicament, he was amazed at how quickly you picked up on things. You were incredibly smart and observant but that’s probably due to having lived on the streets

When Aizawa learned that you didn’t have a quirk he originally didn’t believe you. But after testing his quirk on you, he realized you were telling the truth

Aizawa actually gave you a recommendation to UA since he deeply believes that you would make a good hero

When you took the recommendation exam, you met Inasa who surprisingly quickly managed to worm his way past your walls and became your friend during the exam

After having passed the exam with flying colors you were given Inasa’s phone number since he learned you didn’t have a phone

Aizawa had later that day, bought you a phone for you to connect with the friends you would hopefully make

When school came around, Inasa had been coaching you on how to make friends, despite your cold personality you managed to befriend Izuku on the first day (more like he just didn’t have the balls to tell you you were scary)

You saw how Bakugou treated Izuku and you didn’t like how scared Izuku was so you decided to make an example out of Bakugou

During All Mights hero class, you were paired with Izuku and Uraraka. You followed Izuku and protected him from Bakugou. When Bakugou ignored All Might and used his stored up sweat, you decided that you had enough. You quickly went behind Bakugou and started to let loose on him, in the end, you accidentally sent him to recovery girl’s office since you didn’t know how to hold back

When Izuku saw this, he realized you weren’t that scary and you’re just not that good with social situations, he then took it upon himself to make you apart of the Dekusquad and you decided to keep hanging around him

Shoto and Momo have become some of your closer friends. Momo takes you shopping and loves to dress you up

Mineta, Koda and Aoyama are terrified of you. The girls all love that Mineta is too afraid to perv on you, so they use you as a shield to ward off Mineta

Kirishima and Ojiro are constantly asking you to spar with them as well as Bakugou. They don’t care that you can’t hold back most of your strength, the don’t care that sparring with you is a one way ticket to Recovery Girl, they admire your strength and they want to get stronger

When you’re relaxing, Shoto likes to hang around you since you both have the same cluelessness in the sense of social interactions

Although you have a hard time initiating affection, Aizawa makes sure you receive plenty of it whether it’s just a simple head pat or a small hug. Aizawa and Midoriya help you with learning how to express yourself since you’ve closed yourself off as a means to protect yourself

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Hiiii! How are you???

I loved the love-quirk piece you wrote for Touya/Dabi and was wondering if you could do the same trope for Hawks please please please??? 🥺🩷

Ugh I lovvveee Hawks and I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Summary: Love-quirk trope but Keigo Takami edition because he deserve some nice fluff

Warnings: Language; suggestive

Word Count: 2.9k

The wind whipped through the stray strands of your hair, stinging your eyes as you ran toward the scene. It tousled the fabric of your hero suit, wrapping around your body as you took a moment take in your surroundings.

Despite the fact that the commotion seemed to have calmed down a bit, it was easy to see that chaos had just recently erupted. Haphazard concrete was littered across the street, a lamppost smashed through the middle strewn directly in front of you. Its dying bulb flickered amidst the debris, a beacon of energy among all of the destruction.

You had gotten the call maybe seven minutes ago. At the time, you had been peacefully drinking your morning serving of coffee. The word of criminals attacking the Northern side of the city rumbling over the agency forced you to push the steaming cup aside, ignoring the look of dejection stemming from the kind intern who had brought it.

Hawks had gotten there significantly earlier, thanks to his widely known speed and the fact that you were on the opposite side of town.

Speaking of your partner, he was nowhere to be seen, but the stray streaks of red plumage floating through the air alluded to him being close by, most likely taking down remaining villains in the nearby vicinity.

If the multiple unconscious bodies were anything to go by, he had already taken care of most of the assailants. Still, there seemed to be a few scattered around, all of which immediately began gunning for you.

You weren't exactly worried, however. Groups like this believed their abundance in numbers would make up for a noticeable lack of skill.

There was one left moments later, armed to the teeth, but visibly sloppy when it came to close combat.

Arms forward, you readied yourself for a quick win as a flash of color registered in your peripheral vision. You turned, almost positive that it was your partner, but wanting to make sure. That recognizably cocky grin and friendly wave confirmed your suspicions.

That grin faltered for a moment as he watched you pause, fists growing limp and face showing no reaction to the scythe-wielding villain running straight for you.

Reaction time as extraordinary as ever, Hawks shot forward and rammed his body into yours, the both of you colliding into the road as he tried your best to protect your head within his arms. A wall of feathers were unconsciously sent towards the criminal, the man currently screaming and banging on the now iron-like plumes.

Hawks took a breath, your face still buried in his shoulder and cradled beneath his biceps. His attempts to ignore the speed of his heart at your nearby demise went in vain, even as he forced that usual lighthearted upswing into his tone. "What the hell happened? Trying to keep me on my toes or something, sweetheart?"

Pulling away slightly, he readied himself for that usual glance of annoyance he'd receive when using the nickname. Surprisingly, your features held none of that discernible exasperation.

One of embarrassment and guilt lay there instead, your eyes flitting towards the ground.

"I'm sorry... I guess I got distracted." You lifted your gaze to meet his. "I just was thinking that you looked really nice today."

The absolute deadpan expression he wore would've had you chuckling any other day, laughter bubbling at the way his eyes seemed to almost double in surprise. Regardless, a saccharine smile, sweet and alluring, was what you offered.

His flirtatious remarks towards you were nothing new. He had liked you for a while, sure, but his usually amorous persona was known by many, so he wasn't sure you thought much of it. You had definitely never indulged in it, however, usually brushing it off with some sassed retort for the sake of professionalism.

The way you looked at him had his mind in shambles. It looked like you were on cloud-nine, blithe and unbothered despite your near death experience.

"Excuse me?"

Hawks jumped up, lacing an arm beneath your shoulders to take you with him.

A navy-clad police officer stared back at you both.

"Thanks for your help." She cleared her throat, trying to wipe away the look of surprise she was wearing. "We can take the cleanup from here."

"Thanks," he offered her a friendly nod before turning around and walking away, a hand wrapped protectively around your wrist. Craning his neck slightly downward, he muttered a quiet, "You okay?"

"Mhm. I feel fine."

"Uh-huh." Golden eyes glazed over your form, unconvinced.

"I am kind of tired, though. Can you fly us back?"

He stopped.

There had been a few instances where Hawks would fly you back to the agency's building after a mission.

Or, more so, he would offer, you would kindly decline, and he would sneak up from behind, pulling your body into his before taking off without warning.

It was something about the way you were forced to wrap your arms around his neck, hanging tightly in fear despite the fact that he would never allow anything to happen to you.

And even though the display of your annoyance didn't go above the usual huff of complaints after landing, you had definitely never asked for him to do it.

There was something wrong with you, that much he could tell. And while he was covertly enjoying this overly affectionate version of you quite a bit, the worry he felt for your well being easily overshadowed any satisfaction he was feeling.

Still, he nodded, not keen on letting you out of his sight as of now, sliding a hand behind your back and under your knees before pulling you close and rising into the air. He watched your expressions closely, well enough versed in the layout of the city to be able to not pay attention to where he was going.

As usual, your features were brimming with quiet anxiety, but nothing else exactly seemed to be all that different. Besides the way you clung onto him without the slightest bit of protest, of course.

It had been mere minutes before the agency faded into view, mirrored windows reflecting the splendor of an early evening sunset. His landing was just as graceful as the departure, combat boots sliding just barely across the cobblestone road.

You hopped out of his hold, but kept an arm laced around his own as Hawks led the both of you inside. Photojournalists were a constant outside of his agency and he was sure a shot of you two, your head resting beneath his shoulder as you practically hung off his side, would make them go crazy.

And while he didn't exactly mind, he was almost certain that you would be peeved if the paparazzi began spreading word of some dating scandal.

That could wait until you were more than just rumors.

Keigo was nothing if not persistent.

Especially when it came to you.

Automatic doors shut behind you, the soft click of shoes against polished marble echoing off the lobby's walls. The receptionist, a elderly woman with silvery hair and glasses much too large for her face, offered Hawks a wave, expression faltering slightly as she saw your hand laced with his.

"Are you okay, hon?" She leaned over her desk as you came into hearing range, aged voice lowering into a whisper. "He bribe you or somethin'?"

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. It gnawed at the edges of Keigo's chest. "Not at all!"

The older female flicked her eyes up to her boss, eyebrow raised in overt suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure what's going on yet," he sighed, running a hand through his golden bangs. "Can you get me the security footage from earlier today?"

She took a moment, face wrinkling in thought before looking up. "You!"

The subject of her call, an intern carrying a tray of steaming cups from a nearby coffee shop, jumped in surprise. Hawks had recognized him from around the office, but his name was lost, mix up in the sea of other employees that came on for the Summer.

"You're good at the screen stuff, yeah?"

Nodding hesitantly, the worker moved closer, eyes locking with the both of you. Panic washed his features as his gaze went back and forth over the heroes in front of him, each orbital shift making it seem like he was trying not to vomit.

As he reached the desk, he practically ducked under your line of sight, reaching the receptionist's computer, fiddling with it for a moment, and scurrying away without another word.

The suspicions in regards to the intern followed Hawks as he took you upstairs, ignoring the looks of confusion from some of his other coworkers. As the door to his office shut with a soft click, he pulled out his desk chair, slumping down with a sigh.

"Alright, lovebird. You're gonna stay in here while I look through some videos. Got it?"

You flashed in a grin. "Think I'm gonna get in trouble or something?"

"Seeing as I had to save your ass half an hour ago, maybe." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Ya know, I don't think I got enough groveling for that."

"Yeah?" You moved over to where he was sitting, sliding a leg over both of his and sliding down until you were able to straddle his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at him, eyes glossy and voice dripping in temptation like honey. "Thank you, Hawks, for saving me."

If there was ever a time he wanted to tell someone his given name, it was now. Every inch of him wanted to hear that needing tone lilt through his name, not the famed honorific the world knew him for.

Hearing you moan it would be even better.

Still, the possibility of some mind control or body swap being behind your strand behavior gnawed at the peripheral of his mind.

He was desperately trying to ignore the thought of how nice your hips would look between his hands.

Responsibility and desire wrestled in his mind, the latter getting dangerously close to a KO when the knocked sounded from behind his door.

"What?" The sound came out sounding significantly ruder than how he'd usually like it, but that couldn't be helped.

The frosted glass entryway slid open slowly, a trembling hand pushing it forward. A figure followed it, the fidgeting intern from earlier that Hawks had almost forgotten about.

"May I speak with you, sir?" He swallowed, eyes flickering from you both to the ground. "Alone?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Hawks turned to you. "I'm just gonna be a few minutes. Can you wait outside for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded, but the slight pout running through your bottom lip displayed your aversion to the idea.

It easily had Keigo's pants tightening.

Once the door had shut behind you, the intern took the open seat in front of the desk, hands wringing one another in a desperate attempt to smother some anxiety.

Based on his expression, it definitely didn't seem to be working.

"So, uh... I know why she's acting like that..."

Those unanswered suspicions from earlier jumped in Hawks' chest, despite the fact that they had been forgotten mere moments before.

You were a distracting little thing.

Maybe this debacle was as dangerous for him as it was for you.

But if you were his undoing, he wasn't sure that he would mind.

"I promise I wasn't trying to do anything wrong," the worker continued, voice meek and entangled with nerves. "I just... I just wanted to see if she liked me back."

Jealously burned in the back of Keigo's chest, a feeling distasteful enough to be difficult to ignore, but your well being was currently more important.

He ran a hand through his hair, one of the few physical tellers he exhibited when exasperated. "What did you do?"

Swallowing, the man in front of him continued. "Well, um, I have a love quirk and I usually bring the other heroes their coffee, so I kinda sorta used it while it was handing it out to her this afternoon."

Silence hung in the air like some toxic, poignant type of humidity.

"What?"

The worker bowed in an apology, the top of his head barely missing the wooden edge of Kiego's desk as it was thrown downward. "I know it was stupid and I promise I'll never do it again. Please don't fire me."

The number two hero wasn't exactly known to get angry.

But dammit, if he wasn't downright terrifying when he was.

"Are you serious? Didn't you stop to think that she could've gotten hurt?" Hawks stood up, the heels of his chair skimming across the floor. Golden irises flared in vexation, matching the sneer resting on his mouth. "She could've died! Fuck, she almost did!"

Now trembling a bit, the intern let out a sniffle. "I'm sorry. It's just... she's so pretty and is always nice to me."

Sitting down, Hawks took a minute to breathe, letting the indignation filter out before he said, or did, something he would regret. Some part of him couldn't exactly blame his employee; he had fallen for you just as easily.

He sighed, rested his face on the palm of his free hand. "And how the hell would making her fall in love with you prove whether or not she was interested anyway?"

The worker looked like they were about to keel over. "The quirk only works if the effected individual makes eye contact with someone they have feelings for."

Fireworks went off in his mind, blowing a usually cunning train of thought to shambles. To say he was fucking giddy was an understatement and if he hadn't been so pissed off at his own intern, he might've thanked him.

Still, he had one more question.

"So, how do you, ya know, turn it off?"

"You gotta," his employee cleared his throat. "You gotta kiss her."

Anger from moments before and pure glee were fighting for dominance in Hawks' head.

"If anything like this happens again, you're out. Understood?"

The intern nodded fervently, practically sprinting out of the office and offering sputtered words of thanks all the way. You followed shortly after, eyes darting around to make sure you weren't interrupting any meetings.

Hawks stood, immediately walking over to you.

"Is everything okay? That guy seemed kinda ner-"

He pushed his lips against you, swallowing your words with a soft moan as he hands found their way around your waist.

When he pulled back, he watched you blink away the confusion. He could practically see the gears of your mind turning. It didn't take long for embarrassment to wash over your features, a look of amusement falling over his own as you lifted a hand to your face in awe.

"Oh, shit," you breathed. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I swear I didn't-'

"Ah, come on, you don't have to be shy. I thought it was cute." A smirk found its way onto his expression.

You turned away from him, trying to ignore the blistering heat finding its way into your cheeks. "What even happened?"

"You're just too trusting." He looped his arms around your body, leaning down to rest his chin on your left shoulder. "What am I gonna do with you?"

Boyish charm dripping off his features, he continued. "But don't worry, I think I might like it better when you're pretending you aren't obsessed with me. It's more satisfying when I get you flustered that way."

"I'm not..." If the lack of confidence coating your words were any indication of their untruthfulness, the way your heart beat seemed to increase with every syllable was the real betrayal.

That was one of Keigo's favorite parts of his quirk, the way his heightened senses could pick up on every hitched breath, every quickening of the muscle in your chest that reinforced your lies.

He spun your around in his arms, gently taking your burning face in his fingers and forcing you to meet his eyes. They raked over your body, hungry and arrogant. "Liar. You were practically grinding on me earlier."

"Fuck." You groaned, the sound seeming to do nothing but widen Keigo's grin.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I like you too." He gave your waist a little squeeze using his free hand. "And you can get off on me all you want. I'm free right now actually if-"

"Shut up." You gave a lighthearted smack to his chest, but the soft smile brimming from his own confession seemed to abandon any real animosity.

"So, you gonna let me take you out or what?"

You huffed, trying to ignore the way the flirtation lacing his tone made your chest constrict. "Fine. We can go out for coffee or something."

His expression darkened, limbs tightening as he pulled your body into his, head resting atop your like he was scared you would slip out of his grasp. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, cursing those annoyingly attractive muscles that had built up over years of hero work. "You're not allowed to drink coffee anymore."

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

🤍a completely random modern au headcanon for each aot character 🤍

eren jaeger’s idea of late night fun is going to walmart/target/etc. he likes to walk around with his friends and be absolutely childish. bonus: he’s banned from a certain store for kicking an inflatable ball across the store.

armin arlert is self conscious of his body. it’s only really his torso though. when him and his friends go to the beach, he’s always the last one to take his shirt off. he doesn’t even have anything to be embarrassed about, he’s just disappointed he’s not as muscular as eren or reiner.

mikasa ackerman’s favorite color is a dark red. the blood, cherry type of red. she’s got a lip tint in that color and her nails are painted too much. she also chews her nails. she hopes the nail polish is enough to break the habit but it isn’t.

connie springer’s favorite fast food restaurant is burger king. he thinks it’s underrated. you can count on him to fuck up a whopper. he also always gets the cardboard crowns to wear.

jean kirstein loves night time. he loves the solitude, the way nobody expects anything from him, and the fact that he can just be. he doesn’t get lonely during his late nights but he wouldn’t mind somebody to share it with.

sasha braus smells really good. she doesn’t use any super fancy products, though. she’s just one of those people that naturally have a good aroma. her skin is also really soft.

ymir tans really easy in the summer. she never burns or turns red. she’s genetically blessed. the sun also makes the freckles on her face pop and clusters of them pop up on her back/shoulders.

historia reiss loves milkshakes and soda floats. she always orders them with a whipped cream and cherry. she prefers milkshakes from a diner rather than a fast food place.

marco bodt really likes plants. he has a collection of houseplants. they line his window sills and he even has a special little rack with a special little light. he’s got a super green thumb.

reiner braun drinks protein shakes religiously. he pretty much sticks to a diet of shakes, meat, vegetables and rice. there are few times where he breaks his routine, usually just joining his friends for a night of drinking.

bertholdt hoover has a surprisingly high tolerance when it comes to weed and alcohol. at least that’s what it looks like on the outside. he’s pretty cool, calm and collected. nobody’s sure if he’s immune to being drunk, or if he’s too anxious about acting a fool to show any signs of inebriation.

annie leonhardt owns a german shepherd 100%. she’s had it since it was a pup and it’s one of the most well behaved dogs. they’re oddly similar in their mannerisms. bonus: it’s named marley.

pieck finger is the type of girl to sit on the floor. like, at all times. when she’s sad, she’ll lay down completely and just stare at the ceiling. it’s peaceful and it makes her feel relaxed.

porco galliard goes through an ungodly amount of hairgel. his hair is hard like those ballroom/ballet dancers in competitions. he has trouble growing facial hair.

zeke jaeger gets his weed flown to him from another state/country. it’s the best shit around. he’s also never home because he “runs a business.” always found with a blunt near by.

levi ackerman doesn’t like energy drinks or coffee. if he needs caffeine, he gets it from tea or some kind of health drink. he doesn’t understand how kids hearts don’t give out with all their monsters and red bulls.

erwin smith is so friendly despite his appearance. he finds joy in little things like a heads up penny or when the barista remembers his name/order. he’s a pretty easy going guy.

hange zoe breaks her glasses all the time. they either sit on them or step on them. it’s easy for them to lose their glasses because their room is a mess. books, papers, knick knacks everywhere.

my jean fic

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you don’t want to give up on jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).

> idol!jungkook x reader, angst, fluff / word count: 7k

> warnings: tears overflowing </3 mentions of cheating (but again no one did it ok !!), heh judgemental family members amirite, is giving lipstick marks a warning ?

> in which masterlist!

note: anniversary reveal! and more of oc’s pov :( in the aftermath of in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much left to give !! it’s up to u which one to read first if u haven’t. the in which series is a puzzle 😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts after reading <3 hugs and kisses <3

—

“i feel like this shouldn’t be taking this long.” jungkook jokingly remarks as he pushes the shopping cart with folded arms, tiptoeing and tracing your steps as your eyes wander around the entire shelf of feline necessities.

“leave me alone. there’s too many options.” a huff escapes your mouth as your index finger underlines the flavors of cat treats, aiding you in reading the small words.

he pulls back the cart before it could collide with your hip, resting his chin on top of his arms as he impatiently waits for you to pick out a small gift for your friend’s cat, who you will be catsitting tomorrow.

“just pick the one with the happiest looking cat. that should make it easy, right?”

“jungkook!”

entertained by his own humor, his bright giggles harmonize with yours. eventually, you’re forced to sit on your toes so you can scan the other products shoved in the lowermost shelf.

“surprisingly, many of them don’t look that happy.” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself.

“baby?”

“yes?”

“i’m getting bored.” jungkook pouts sulkily, bouncing his leg. in the midst of spacing out, he spits out the first question that pops in his mind. “what crime would you get arrested for?”

“arson,” you answer with a shrug, perhaps a little too quickly. the most adorable packaging you’ve seen so far steals your attention, and it’s almost as if you’re being beckoned by the colorful jars of cat cookies.

tuna? salmon? or chicken?

“oh?” he perks up in intrigue, mouth gaping in surprise. “why didn’t i expect that? why arson?“

“i mean, nothing special. it just sounds efficient? it takes little work but creates colossal damage.”

his face lights up when you stand back on your feet, relieved that grocery shopping is almost over. you place the jar of your chosen flavor, tuna, in an unoccupied space in the shopping cart.

“but realistically? i’d probably burn down my building with my forgetfulness and then get framed for it. i imagine that sometimes when i cook.”

“who would frame you?! tell me, baby.“ he angrily yells in a whisper, a cheeky smile growing on his face. “i’ll investigate and take care of them. that’s what i will get arrested for.”

“damn, how romantic.” you reply teasingly, granting his lips a loving peck. afterwards, you whisper to him as if you’re trading a well-kept secret, hushed voice and squinted eyes. “later. i’ll show you which of my neighbors i suspect.”

—

“baby?” jungkook chirps the pet name one more time, seizing your hand and putting it under his so that he’s pushing the cart while holding hands with you.

you hum in acknowledgement, sparing him a short glance as you look around, just incase you find something else you need while you’re on your way to the counter.

“have you thought of anything you want for our second anniversary?” he asks with sparkling eyes, his excitement uncontainable as more days get crossed out from the calendar. “a gift? and where you want to go?”

and that’s when your calmness completely shifts into chaos. his questions are giant buckets filled with ice, callously dunked over your head without any sign or warning. your walking pace gradually slows down as his words sink in, and you drown in the tornado swirling violently in your chest.

“our… anniversary?” you choke out.

your evident confusion is met by jungkook’s disappointment, halting on his tracks as to not leave you behind. “yes, february 25. that’s in three months… have you forgotten?”

“excuse me-”

a middle-aged woman rudely pushes your back, and you apologize in panic as you face your boyfriend to provide her the space to pass through. your heart drops to your stomach when you notice his stoic expression, hurt and distant, before you allow yourself to be whisked away from the center of the aisles.

“babe, please don’t be mad. i swear, i didn’t forget!” you cling to his muscular arm, hugging it to your chest as you stand behind a long line of overflowing shopping carts. “i literally have all the 25th marked in my calendar. how could i forget?”

“ugh, you tell me.” he frowns at you, lightly bumping his head against yours.

“i just didn’t realize it’s that near already.” the half-lie, half-truth tastes bitter on your tongue. “have you ever thought that time moves too fast when you’re happy and having fun? that’s exactly how i feel when i’m with you.”

yes, jungkook have thought of it a million times.

“fuck, alright, i’m not mad. you’re pretty good at this, huh?”

your sweet smile is pleasantly contagious. a flushed-face jungkook unconsciously copies you. he becomes pliant as you raise his arm to wrap it around you, stealing his body warmth this chilly november afternoon.

“i want to see a waterfalls with you. can we go there?”

he presses a kiss to your temple, unmoving for seconds, before he pulls away with a distinct smooching sound that fills your stomach with butterflies. “mhmm, niagara?”

you fail to hold back an amused snort, covering your mouth to prevent unwanted attention from strangers. “be serious. think local! we barely even go out of town!”

“but i’m serious.” he blinks at you. “we can just take pictures, have a dinner date, then go home!”

“you do know that it’s at the other side of the pacific, right?”

—

the cold breeze engulfs you in a big embrace as soon as you step out of the grocery store, carefree and unaware of its thorns prickling your skin. hand in hand, you and jungkook walk to his car parked two blocks away, carrying a plastic bag while he took the heavier two.

after putting out the small fire, your tumultuous emotions clamber to the surface, and it becomes increasingly difficult to hold them down the longer he’s around. the clouds are dark gray, as if they’re writing in pencil beforehand, my tears are about to fall. you feel stupidly envious of their ability to weep anytime they need to, in the face of the casualties. how nice would it be if you allowed yourself to be the same?

“this wasn’t here before. when did they open? let’s go inside for a bit.”

distracted by your stream of thoughts, you are guided inside an establishment with you only noticing belatedly. jungkook lets go of your hand to marvel at the collection of sunglasses displayed in extended rows. you stay idle by his side, watching him check himself out in the mirror as he tries them on one by one.

“that one looks good on you.” the praise automatically slips from your mouth when he wears a rectangle-shaped brown frame, more on the bigger side. as expected from your extremely handsome boyfriend, he makes it appear more stylish than it originally looked on the shelf.

“really? should i buy it?” he wears a radiant beam, repeatedly lifting it up and down as he inspects your face with and without the filtered lens.

“hm, i think so.” you skip over the grocery bags on the floor, squeezing in yourself in the small mirror. “here, look here again.”

jungkook rests his head on yours as he smiles at your reflections, tight-lipped, bringing out the most endearing set of dimples you’ve ever seen.

“why are you acting cute today?”

“i was just born this way.” he grins proudly. “and i guess i missed you.”

the ever-present sincerity in his voice adds weight to the heaviness chained to your heart, and you reward a kiss on his cheek to conceal your uneasiness, leaving a conspicuous lipstick mark in your wake.

“yah!” he lightheartedly scolds you with a chuckle, pushing up the sunglasses over his hair to examine his face.

you reflexively seize his wrist with an offended gasp. “hello? are you about to wipe off my kiss?”

“you can give me a thousand more in the car.“

“but that defeats the purpose.” you defeatedly answer as you let him go, witnessing your lipstick turn into a faint blush that compliments his honey skin. “oh, fine! i guess i’ll go window shopping over there.”

“where’s ‘over there’?”

he whips his head around to discover that you’ve disappeared.

—

you don’t flinch when you feel someone hold your waist. maybe you know it’s jungkook. maybe you know jungkook will die before he lets anyone else touch you in his presence.

“are you sure you won’t get anything?”

“i won’t. i just saw the hot air balloon two months ago.” you timidly shake your head as you return the sixth eyeglasses you tried on. “are we going home?”

your boyfriend responds by intertwining your fingers together.

“let me take this again then.” you reclaim the grocery bag you were with earlier, taking it upon yourself to hold the paper bag of his new sunnies as well, just to lighten his load. how the hell did he manage to carry everything in one hand?

your eyelids briefly flutter shut when he kisses your cheek. “thank you.”

when jungkook pushes the door open do you only hear the raindrops crashing on the pavement, splashes of cold water staining your denim pants as you stand under the canopy roof.

“shit, it’s so cold.” he shivers with a laugh as you simultaneously pull your hoods over your heads. “carry the bags on your other side.”

“why?” you ask innocently, but you do as he says anyway, not seeing any reason not to.

“just because.” he transfers to your right, capturing your free hand to put it inside the front pocket of his hoodie along with his. “let’s go!”

and you know the probability of you buying cold medicine for two in twenty-four hours is high, but this moment feels like it could last forever — running under the rain with him and feeling overwhelmingly alive, heart and soul; realizing halfway that he switched positions so he’d be the one closer to the busy and slippery road. they have wild similarities: nature and jungkook. a breath of fresh air. stars. the candied scent of flowers. dulcet sounds. warmth. home. resourcefulness. whimsical. unstoppable force. they devastate you catastrophically without meaning to. sometimes you overthink that they do. sometimes you know them and sometimes you don’t. you’re part of the problem but it’s hard to admit.

jungkook drives ten times more carefully. the rain is pouring harder as the seconds fly by, giving the radio speakers of his car a run for their money. the twenty-five minute drive to your apartment is nothing short of torturous, tinted windows too blurry and too reminiscent of memories you’ve been trying to push into the recesses of your mind. but they’re out of control, ceaselessly replaying in your head, and you can still see his tear-stained face even when you close your eyes. the windshield wipers are working hard but the sky is remorseless.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

“i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

he’s wrong. you so strongly wish that he’s wrong.

you swallow the lump in your throat, chewing your bottom lip harshly, but the thread you’ve been hanging on has been snipped. you begin to cry silently, curled up on the passenger seat and face hidden by the hood you haven’t taken off. you pretend to be asleep as jungkook softly hums the tune of the songs playing in the radio. you feel so fucking suffocated. you hate this car. you hate the rain. you hate that you’re being this way. you feel guilty that your boyfriend is excited for your second anniversary while you’re stuck up in the past. you feel ashamed of feeling, almost.

you don’t know how to tell him that you’re sad because you love him. and even sadder when he thoughtfully wraps you in a blanket in the middle of a red light, stroking your back as he whispers. “my baby must be so tired.”

—

the rain has become a clement drizzle by the time you arrive at your destination. standing before your apartment unit, jungkook sets down the grocery bags on the floor to take off the wax cord necklace hidden underneath his clothing. he uses the pendant, his copy of your house key, to unlock the front door.

you slip off the loose sneakers on your feet by the floor mat before heading straight to the bedroom. you hang your boyfriend’s backpack on your study chair and place his paper bag on top of your desk. he enters the room when you’re already pulling the thick hoodie over your head, leaving you in a navy blue body-hugging top.

“love, are you okay?” he asks as he brings out fresh clothes from his backpack, looking over your sprawled out figure on the bed, eyes shut and breathing heavy.

“i’m alright.” you force yourself to sit up, sliding off the bed to stand on your feet. your head is pounding and you want to puke your guts out. is it normal to experience such heartache that you feel physically sick? “i’ll put away the groceries.”

“okay. i’ll be there to start cooking dinner!”

you merely nod, brushing past him.

—

you begin with restocking the fridge. meat, eggs, yogurt, almond milk, fruits, and the like. jungkook arrives when you’re already unpacking the second bag, and his first instinct is to affectionately hug you from behind. after too many days physically apart, he’ll be damned if he’ll allow even an inch of distance between your bodies.

your actions are put on halt when his palm presses on your neck, and then the back of it. “why do you feel so warm? don’t you feel sick?”

it was the final blow. to be honest, it’s been long overdue. you’re frozen in place, defeated as one by one, the tears finally drip from your damp eyelashes. they roll down your cheeks, some crashing on the table and seeping into the wood to form tiny circles of a darker shade of brown. the rest of them rolls down to the hand that is checking your temperature. you sniffle before he can question the new sensation on his skin.

“hey- hey, what’s wrong? are you crying?“ he moves to your side for a better view of your face, but you shake your head in denial. “what happened? baby?”

“nothing.” you mutter, brushing him off.

you gather the bottles of soy sauce and vinegar, wiggling out his hold to place them in the shelf above the stove. you return to the table to pick up the stuff that goes in the cabinets, but jungkook catches your wrist, removing the pack of sliced bread from your hand.

“i thought we’re not supposed to shut each other out.” he whispers, pulling you closer and guiding your arms around his waist. “it breaks my heart when you cry, baby.”

his doe eyes are pleading as he tilts up your chin to meet his gaze, thumb softly drawing circles on the apple of your cheek. you feel so utterly lost, overwhelmed by his gestures of kindness and affection. and yet you cry, because if he loved you that much, how did breaking up became an option he was willing to choose?

“our anniversary…” you trail off, ripping apart at the seams. “it still counts.”

neither of you knows if it’s a statement or a question.

“it still counts.” he nods slowly, repeating your words. “sh-should it not?”

his heart races in his chest as fear creeps up on him, dreading your answer. did he fuck up again? but your response only leaves him with more questions floating above his head.

“if we only had a pause- does that mean you… didn’t try looking for someone else? right? you didn’t sleep with anyone? while we were…”

for a moment, jungkook forgets how to speak as silence reigns over. his forehead creases in confusion, a sharp pang digging in his heart like a dagger as you wait with bated breath.

“no. why would you ev- no. no, i didn’t. where is this coming from?” his round, agitated eyes search for a clue in your expression but you don’t allow him that privilege, impassive as you withdraw from the close proximity between you.

“it doesn’t matter, that’s all i needed. thank you for answering.” you sigh heavily, turning on your heel to head to the bathroom. “i’m going to wash up.“

“____, come on. don’t walk away from me.” he almost begs out of desperation as his fingers curl around your arm, itching to embrace you because serrated trepidation is gnawing at his insides. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he won’t let you slip away.

you sigh. “let go, jungkook.”

“how can i let you walk away after learning that you think i cheated on you?” he frustratedly blurts out, the words revolting on his tongue. this was never supposed to happen. he was supposed to be a partner who never gave you any reason to question his faithfulness. “that doesn’t matter?”

“it doesn’t.” you assert firmly.

jungkook is scared. he doesn’t understand how you can look at him like this, pretend you’re not wounded and bleeding. he doesn’t know if you’re giving him a pass or if you’re punishing him.

“either way, you broke up with me, jungkook… i would hate it, but it wouldn’t have been cheating.”

“it is to me.” his hauntingly angelic voice shatters, along with your fragile hearts as he says- “i didn’t love you any less and you know that.”

sorrow seeps into the silence, permeating the cold air, thick with heartache and tension. you walk away from him wordlessly, and jungkook is taken aback, vision blurred and unfocused as his hand drops to his side, devastatingly dejected.

“____!” your name fades into a muffled noise.

the doorknob clicks when you lock it. numb as your feet carry you to the sink, numb as you twist the faucet until you can’t anymore. the strong pressure of the water hitting the porcelain echoes throughout the dimly-lit bathroom. you tightly grip the edge of the sink as you fall apart disastrously, like a wave blazing past the shore and destroying everything in its path with ferociousness — because it’s the only thing left it knows how to do. your endless tears turn the cold tap water into saltwater. it inevitably overflows, spilling over the edges and soaking your trembling hands.

when he broke up with you, it opened the door to many other possibilities that hurts you to think about. you thought you knew, too. but the seed of doubt was planted in your mind when you were forsaken, and it kept growing as a wildflower even when he came back and laid beside you after not reaching out for weeks.

the last time you cried like this, you begged him to allow you to keep loving him.

your weak knees give in to the pull of gravity, heedless of nasty bruises as you cover your mouth to restrain your afflicted sobbing, nails scratching the porcelain as your lone hand insists on holding you up. sometimes love is not a warm comforting embrace. sometimes love is teeth. sometimes love is biting and perversely holding on. were you not worth fighting for? this time around, can he sacrifice something else instead of you? does that make you sound selfish? what if you don’t care that it does? and you wonder if it’s alright for two people to be in a relationship despite having different ideas of what loving means. you wonder if you’ve truly changed his mind.

outside, jungkook anxiously paces back and forth. the piercing sob that tears itself from your throat and crawls through the small cracks of the door is a direct, forceful punch to his gut. he swallows thickly, wiping away the tears brimming his eyes. he can’t cry, not right now. four months have passed, but it isn’t time’s job to heal all wounds. it’s his.

—

“what are you making?”

jungkook’s bubble pops when he hears your voice. he didn’t even realize when the shower stopped running, too absorbed in the kitchen so that he won’t intrude into your boundaries despite his restlessness. he takes you in, clad in your silk pajamas, before looking back at the bowl of dark brown batter he’s been tirelessly stirring and folding to incorporate the ingredients together.

“brownies.”

“all of a sudden? thought you were going to make dinner.” you leave no space between the two of you as you dip in the tip of your pinky finger for a taste.

that was the original plan, but he knows that you like to consume sweets when you’re feeling down.

“i’m about to. are you hungry?“ he speaks in a subdued voice, gingerly rubbing your lower back. “i’m putting this in the oven now.“

“can i help?”

jungkook dies a little inside when your eyes meet and he notices that yours are swollen, yet still gleaming with affection.

“you can, uhm, peel the potatoes?”

you curiously look back to see the ingredients for gamjatang, pork bone soup, laid out on the dining table. “okay.”

as you begin to diligently do the task you were assigned, he transfers the batter to the pan covered with parchment paper before pushing it inside the pre-heated oven. the faint pitter-patter of the rain fills the apartment as the clouds squall once more. he occupies the seat next to you, entire body facing you as his arm rests on top of the backrest of your chair.

“don’t you want to talk about it?”

you frown, briefly pausing as you ponder so you won’t cut yourself. “no, i want to… i just needed time to think.”

he grows quiet, biting at his nails as he watches your hands smoothly peel off the skin of a potato using a paring knife.

“it matters to me.” he’s been dying to say. “____, you know that i love you, right?”

you thought you had no tears left in you, but your face is feeling hot yet again.

“i know.”

“i did a shitty job at showing it because i was stupid, but it never stopped being true.” he says, steady and sure, doe eyes longing to read your mind. “i love you so much, hm…? i love you.”

“i know. that’s why i’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

a small bitter smile appears on your face as you pick up another potato to peel.

“the other day, your aunt told me you went on dates… she even showed me old pictures of you and the girl together then apologized to me-” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “for setting you up, because she thought i got what i wanted from you and finally backed off. but none of your friends ever mentioned this person to me… or you… that’s why i couldn’t- i couldn’t… it was embarrassing.”

it’s hilarious, really, how you were scared shitless of jungkook’s parents not approving of you, but you failed to consider his relatives. you can’t shake off the subtle looks indicating that you were dirt on her shoe, the honeyed condescending tone that made you feel small and hollow as you sat with her at the bus stop, completely clueless as she rambled. you wanted to laugh, cry, and curse up a storm. and you would’ve chased after her when she went to ride the bus without giving you the opportunity to stand up for yourself, but you had to remind yourself that your actions might taint people’s perception of jungkook, and you couldn’t risk that.

“baby- baby, look at me. please.”

he carefully pries away the potato and the knife from your hands, cupping your face in his big palms. you gaze at him wide-eyed as you ground yourself by clutching onto his wrist. your loud heartbeat pounds in your ears because it’s not always that you can look at each other like this, meeting halfway, seeing more than feeling.

his eyebrows are closely knitted, nose scrunching and barely blinking as he sets the record straight.

“it was one time. she’s been trying to set us up since forever, then… then she planned a date during the time we weren’t talking without even confirming with me… it was a place outside the company, so i just went to say it was a misunderstanding and i’m taken! i felt embarrassed because it’s a family friend. nothing more…” he caresses you tenderly, feeling a pinch in his chest as he tries to put himself in your shoes. “i promise, love, i left after like two minutes. why would i go on dates when i was losing my mind, hm? i was missing you like crazy.”

you melt into him when he crosses the short distance between you, pressing his soft lips on yours for a kiss that makes the whole world quiet. your noses brush each other before he withdraws.

“she left out that part, didn’t she?” he rhetorically asks with venom stirred in his otherwise dulcet voice.

you purse your lips into a thin line.

“seriously, this- this is ridiculous… this is bullshit. she really did it this time. ah, i’m angry! does this even make sense? what’s the point of all that?” jungkook huffs with a sarcastic chuckle as he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing and tugging to release his growing frustration somehow.

this is why his lover has been doubtful of his devotion? he has known his aunt since he learned how to recognize faces, and he knows that it takes a whole lot for you to reach this breaking point. he can only imagine the interaction that took place, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

you’ve seen the good and the bad, and you focus on the good, and you stay with him despite despite despite.

he takes a deep breath to compose himself, and then his tongue prods the inside of his cheek as his determined eyes search for his phone. he quickly snatches it from the table and stands up, the screen coming to life as he unlocks it with his thumb’s fingerprint. “i’ll be right back, baby.”

“jungkook,” you call out his name as a warning, grasping his wrist before he can go too far. “don’t act rashly.”

“i’m not! i’d go to busan but i’ll put that off because i’d rather spend my day-off with you.”

you don’t know what you were expecting his reaction would be, but it’s not a great leap to say that he is furious, pending to explode.

“i’ve been nothing but polite even though she was fucking badgering me non-stop, but i won’t let her think that it’s okay to treat you like that… she doesn’t have the right to meddle with my life, and she can’t disrespect the most important person to me. i-i-” he pauses to breathe, chest heaving with the weight of his emotions. “i won’t allow it.”

you are his calmness and he is the storm.

his voice wavers by the end of his sentence, doe eyes turning glassy as he sincerely confesses, which is probably why this isn’t the right time for you to smile like a lovesick highschooler with a crush. this is exactly what you tried to avoid, making a mess and a series of uncomfortable holidays, so why does it have to feel good to hear him say that?

you nod with understanding as you free his wrist. “okay. don’t take too long.”

jungkook heads to the front door before his anger can be erased by his adoration for you, so endearing as you peel small potatoes like you had all the time in the world.

as he steps outside, the raucous rain rings in your ears and its distinct smell mixed with the soil enters the apartment.

you cluelessly blink at the ingredients surrounding you as you mutter to yourself. “how many of these am i supposed to peel again?”

—

jungkook returns after a phone call that went longer than planned, but not before wiping the wet floor from both sides of your front door to avoid accidents. he discovers you squatting infront of the unlocked kitchen oven.

“what are you doing?” he asks with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“it’s baked…” you raise the toothpick you poked the brownie with, tilting your head to the side. “right?“

“oh, it is! let’s take it out.”

he rushes to the counter to wear oven mitts, and you stand aside so he can carry out the pan from the oven. you follow him as he places it on top of the wooden table mat on the table, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to gain his attention.

“what happened?” you interrogate him worriedly as he pulls off the oven mitts from his hands.

“huh?” you’re coaxed to move closer when he caresses your nape, sliding down to the smooth expanse of your back. “my mom will call you soon.”

“what? why?!”

“she wants to cook for you. to apologize for what her son and her sister did.” he scrunches his nose with a guilty chuckle, scratching his head. “let’s go home for dinner one of these days, okay? we’ll cook your favorites.”

“but i thought…” you chew on your bottom lip, hand balling in a fist and crumpling the fabric of your boyfriend’s t-shirt. “did you call your mom too? i don’t want to cause trouble.”

“what do you mean? you’re doing nothing of the sort.” he gives you a disapproving look, gently squeezing your tense hand to quell your worries. “and it just turns out she was listening the whole time i was talking. they’re hanging out together. uh, besides, she would’ve found out one way or the other.”

“but they can’t be fighting, right?”

“aigoo, don’t worry about it anymore. stop hurting your brain. it’s mean.” he strokes your head lovingly with a small smile that suggests an answer to your question. “your mother-in-law loves you. everything’s okay. it’s cold so let’s just eat our dinner then cuddle in bed, hm, baby?”

oh. your mother-in-law?

“you’re so annoying.” you mutter half-heartedly, burying your face in your hands as the tears surge in once more.

god, you feel so relieved.

you crash against jungkook’s body when he tugs you closer to envelope you in his arms. maybe, just maybe, if he does it long enough, you will be pieced back together. even though he, himself, breaks when you weakly pound at his chest with clenched fists.

“i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.” you chant like a broken record in between sobs, glitching in cracks and pauses and stutters. the more you say the same three words, the more they lose their meaning.

he squeezes his eyes shut, enduring the heart-splitting pain and embracing you tighter. “i know- i know.” he repeats your words from earlier.

he hates himself, too. he needs to get his shit together. he understands — he has to grow up if he wants to keep you.

“but i love you, and i’m scared you’ll leave again and i won’t beg you anymore.” you ramble without thinking, brain on auto-pilot mode. “i’m not that kind of person, jungkook. that’s not me. i don’t have to prove it, do i?”

you feel so utterly exposed, disgustingly vulnerable. nevertheless, before jungkook is anything else, he is your best friend.

“t-they think i’m using you.” you hiccup, forearm covering your stinging eyes. you taste the salt in your own tears as you speak. “but that’s unfair, so unfair. i only accept what i’m given. i barely ask you for anything. it was only one time, o-only one time. i asked you to come back, because i missed you. i want to be with you because you make me happy.”

jungkook’s jaw clenches in anger, no longer able to withhold his tears. he sniffles, wiping his wet cheek on his shoulder. you’ve suffered more than enough because of him. if anything, he should be the one getting the lashings from his side and yours. this is wrong. this is all wrong.

“shh- shhh. breathe, baby.” he coos as he pushes down your arm, brushing away the tears on your face. “come here.”

you whimper when he swoops you off your feet, carrying you bridal style to the living room. he sits on the sofa, and he sits you on his lap. you slide off him, just a tiny bit for your back to reach the armrest, pulling him along with you.

“hug me,” you demand quietly.

he fails to defy the urge to smile, abruptly pulling you in for a passionate kiss that steals the air from your lungs. your eyelids flutter shut, tense body relaxing into him as your lips follow his lead in this delicate dance of enigmatic intimacy. your fingers graze his jaw shakily, afraid it might cut you and you’ll be awoken from this enduring dream. they desperately tangle themselves with his hair, digging to keep him glued onto you.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

he makes a whispered promise carved into the walls of your apartment, sealed by his lips pressing to your knuckles, and you’re left to wonder forever if he kissed your left ring finger on purpose.

jungkook is soft-spoken, slow and careful with his words that could make or break you.

“i’m so sorry that i hurt you. and i’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me. i’m sorry for everything. i’m sorry. but…” he inhales, and exhales, licking his lips. “the noise might never stop. i know it’s not as easy to say, but i hope we don’t let them get into our heads. just because we can hear them, doesn’t mean we have to listen, you know?”

and as much as it kills him to admit-

“we’re fragile right now, so i want to protect what we have.”

you profusely nod your head, and his thumbs sweep over your cheeks to catch your teardrops.

“let’s be happy, and love each other for a very long time, hm…? i know you’re not that kind of person, so you can ask me for anything. or you can even take them without asking me. i don’t care. what about it?” he says with passion and conviction, galaxy-filled eyes expanding as he shakes his head. “but never me, or my love. you shouldn’t feel like you have to ask for it. do you know why?”

you arch an eyebrow at him, still switching between fiddling with his long and slender fingers and tracing the veins running along his arms. “why?”

“because i’m yours. every single second of everyday. i love you. you deserve all the love i can give. that’s my number one responsibility as your boyfriend… but i failed you. i know you forgive me but… but i-i want to love you better. i won’t get tired of fighting for us, and showing you that i mean everything i say.”

“don’t say things like that.” at last, you crack a genuine smile, giggling as you lightly hit his chest. “i’ll become greedy.”

“good. that’s what i want.” he retorts with a chuckle, but he means it wholeheartedly.

he wants to be inconvenienced by you. he wants to make impulsively confrontational phone calls he will overthink before bed. he wants you to wake him up in the middle of the night clawing for snuggles. he wants you to jump on his back when you’re exhausted of walking. he wants to charm the owner of your favorite restaurant into cooking one more meal before closing because you always ask him to make a quick stop when he visits you. he wants his life to be influenced by yours in every possible way, two different colors mixed in a palette to create a new one that matches the sky.

“thank you.” you smile sheepishly. “and i’m sorry too, for everything. i don’t handle these things well… i’m still learning.”

“mhmm-hmm.” he shakes his head in disagreement, before leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. “i love you.” he smells like romance and comfort, sugar and cocoa from the brownies — the cure to your nausea. you still taste a hint of the sweet flavor when your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips, traces from your taste test and his.

“babe?” you whisper after minutes that felt like hours, drowsy and cozy cuddled up with your boyfriend in the corner of your sofa.

he hums in question, sleepily nuzzling his face on your neck.

“i’m so hungry. i think i’m going to die.”

“ah, yes. i can hear that.”

—

“should i slice the onions next?” you question in a sing-song voice as you enter the kitchen, immediately regaining possession of knife.

“stay away from them. i don’t want you to cry again.”

you pout, clicking your tongue. “you’re right. then what else can i do…? why do you look scared?”

you study jungkook’s wary stance in amusement, taking a glance at your hand where his shaking pupils are trained.

he playfully puts up his arms in surrender, laughter laced with nervousness. “baby, stop waving the knife around.”

“i’m not!”

“yes, you are! just put it down. i’ll do everything, okay?”

you place it back on the table with a scoff, slumping on the chair and crossing your arms. “and then what?”

“then have the brownies for appetizer.” with a self-satisfied grin, he cuts out a slice of brownie that has cooled down during the time it was left unattended.

“i don’t think this is how it works.”

“shhh, baby.“ he menacingly hushes you with his pointer finger over his lips. “don’t say anything. just taste it first. ahhh-“

you take a small bite from the piece that he’s holding out for you, and then another after deeming it too small.

“how is it?” he gulps as he anticipates your reply.

“yummy!”

“really?” he giggles when you chomp on the remaining dessert and accidentally bite his poor fingers.

“don’t know what makes a good brownie exactly, but it’s perfect to me.” you nod your head enthusiastically, somewhat feeling better with the prospect of having your stomach filled with more of your boyfriend’s cooking.

your jaw slacks open in offense when he slaps your hand in the middle of your attempt to pick up the knife, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he threateningly looks at you.

“what was that for? i just want more brownies!” you cry out, lightly kicking his shin from under the table.

“oh- ow!” he cracks up in hearty laughter, corners of his eyes crinkling as he rubs the affected area. “sorry, i’m sorry for my fault! they’re all yours! please forgive me! i’m sorry!”

you send him a scowl before pouring all your focus into slicing the rest of the dessert into bite-sized squares.

he bends down to your eye-level, cutely tilting his head to the side as he speaks lowly. “i’ll cook dinner now. just wait a little more… maybe two hours?”

“please tell me you’re joking.”

—

not long after, you hop on the vacant counter space with the brownies for a better view of the kitchen scene. you leisurely swing your legs as you watch jungkook freely move around your kitchen, occasionally getting lost as he converses with himself. if your calculations are correct, he has asked himself the questions “oing? what was i supposed to do again? what did i come here for?” twice so far. it’s a good thing he talks to himself out loud so you can remember things for him.

he stirs the pot of stew, leaves to gather more ingredients, then comes back to dump them in. the cycle ends with nods of satisfaction, before he waddles over to your spot for a snack break. straight away, you greet his parted lips with the chocolate-y goodness that was reaped from his sweat and tears.

as he chews on the brownie, he turns his face to the other direction and pokes his cheek for another request. with your thighs caging his hips and your hands grasping his collar, you tug him closer to your body. your plushy lips plant gentle but full kisses on his cheek, trailing down to his defined jaw and neck when you run out of space. the tingling sensation shooting up his spine prompts his fingers to dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, breathing gradually getting heavier with your every electrifying touch. the final kiss is granted to his adam’s apple, more prominent as he swallows.

you straighten back up while fixing your hair, and jungkook’s starry eyes follow your red lips in a hypnotized daze. there’s no one else who can make his heart flutter quite like you do. your breathy giggles are music to his ears as you take in the sight of both his cheeks adorned with scattered lipstick marks, appearing like watercolor on paper.

“what’s that for?” he eyed you suspiciously while you were painting your lips, but it’s him who kept coming back to you for more although you were already happy with one.

“you look so funny.”

but if this arrangement goes: he can make you laugh by granting you the permission to leave marks where your lips have been, he will happily live with that.

“can i take a picture?”

but you don’t even have to ask. your phone is still charging in the bedroom, so he proposes his for your convenience.

“here. just airdrop them to yourself.” he hands it to you with a cool shrug, nonchalant on the surface but giddy inside.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send a message/ask if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[atlantahammy]

Hamato Clan Pallets | So, part 2 of my project I started because I noticed a number of the colors from @pluvionpc's color pallets were Season 1 exclusives, or were tinted by the scene color overlay and thus not the true bases. (No offense to you man, you did what you could and without them, this wouldn't exist) The purple dragons were surprisingly hard to get colors for, because they only appear, in light / neutral lighting, in 1 episode of the 3 they appear in, either dark in the next or on a screen. That and I kept fucking up the pallets with errors, can ask those in @elliwoods Bean Server... There was screaming and crying into 2 AM as I live-blogged spotting the errors, after dropping it there like... 6 fuckin' times and dying each time I saw a new one. /rage.

I maaaay have psyched myself out a bit on Big Mama's spider form pallet because I thought it was going to be painful... It wasn't, It was easy, and the fastest, I got it done in less than an hour.

Also, fun fact, Big Mama's Spider form is one of the few whose mouth gets colored in black. She also seems to have 2 web colors, that purple, and the silvery purple that is her human form's hair color.

Sunita was also pretty easy, as she's one of the few characters that have had their turn around posted, that I could pull base colors from, even from her Googlyschootz sheet, which has the opacity effect (I think it is around 80% or 90%)

On that note, Sunita still has the default mouth colors, but they're layered on top of her green color + opacity lowered.

Fun fact: Sunita inadvertently confirms that while 'Yokai' is the general term for all the "mythical's" (IE: Like ''Humans") in the world, they all do have individual names, IE: She and her dad are Googlyschootz. (Also the fact I had to go to the transcript to get her race name, instead of it being listed under trivia on her wiki page, greatly irritates me.)

Drax's villain armor was... Easier than I thought, I kept procrastinating on it because I thought it would end me out of frustration and it would end up being bigger than it was... Though it is clear his design had a few color changes before the show aired by all early art being all colored differently.

I also didn't do Huginn and Muninn with Drax's as I gave Mayhem is own, might as well give the two their own pallet too.

———————————– My Commissions | .Carrd | Ko-Fi

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐮

⊱✿⊰ summary: head canons as a gift to @lovelykil

⊱✿⊰ warnings: nothing crazy. Mentions of pregnancy and kids but nothing nsfw

⊱✿⊰ notes: my first fanfiction on this new account! How exciting am i right??

❀ Izuku loves to show how grateful he is to have you as a partner. You are kind and compassionate and just amazing. He loves everything about you and does his best to show you that. He buys you flowers regularly, takes you on dates as much as he can (with his busy schedule), and tries to show you he appreciates you.

❀ Although he has a very busy life as a pro hero he makes time for you. Quick lunches in between rescues and the occasional time he takes a day off go spend it with you. Whenever he takes the day off he loves to make you dinner.

❀ He knows he wanted to marry you almost right into dating. You are so perfect ans you make him feel the best he could be. Why wouldn't he choose to spend the rest of his life with you?

❀ surprisingly or not, izuku prefers keeping your relationship details pretty private. Like he doesn't hide you from the public but he does keep them from giving you all invasive questions. Anyway, I think he proposed over a fancy dinner he cooked at home. Popping open the wine, pulling out the candles, y'know the works.

"Oh wow," you said, walking into the very fancy dinner Izuku had made for the both of you. You tried thinking back to if this was a special occasion but you could not figure out what it could possibly be.

"Zu, what's all this for?" You asked, looking at him with grateful confusion. He was so kind to you and you had no idea what you did to earn such a man. He smiles and sits you down, telling you to enjoy dinner and he'd explain later.

So the both of you ate dinner with easy conversation, just like any sort of date you'd go on. After dinner you opened your mouth to ask what had been bugging you all evening when he knelt in front of you.

"Will you marry me?" He asked, his freckled face the most adorable pink color. He looked like the high schooler you met all those years ago, nervous but so strong.

"Yes, yes! I would love to marry you!" You answered, a few tears breaking free from your overwhelming amounts of emotion. He grinned, putting the ring on your finger before wrapping his arms around your waist and twirling you around.

❀ you guys had a relatively simple wedding. Full of family and close friends (not to mention the stray reporters who somehow snuck in.) Your classmates and teachers from UA even managed to come which was lucky.

❀ i think you guys honeymooned in like Italy or something. Izuku would have asked for America though lol

❀ I would think about a year into marriage you start to talk about kids. Izuku has always wanted kids and especially wants them with you so of course he brings up the conversation. He has enough money as a top pro hero to support any decisions including if you chose to continue working rather than being a stay at home mom.

❀ he is so happy when you tell him you are pregnant with a baby girl. After celebrating with you he immediately calls his mom to tell her the good news, which she was also excited for. Inko definitely came to your place later that day with fresh cookies for her son and his gorgeous wife. Inko loves you like you were her own daughter.

❀ The pregnancy goes smoothly and you gave birth to an adorable little girl, named Zuri. (Both her and Izuku's nicknames are Zu). She was perfect and sweet.

❀ Izuku tries to spend as much time with his family as he can. He take days off and makes sure you and Zuri feel as loved as possible.

❀ When Zuri was four years old she asked for a baby brother which you and Izuku were more than happy to oblige. Thus comes your son, Mikumo (nicknamed Mikey)

❀ you guys are honestly the cutest family. You are literally the model family for all of Japan. You guys are on the cover of some sort of magazine or something.

[charlotteking23]

Would you be willing to do an Eric Coulter arranged marriage AU one shot where Eric and reader are put into an arranged marriage to further unite Erudite and Dauntless, or a soulmate AU one shot where the reader is originally from Erudite and switched to dauntless, she works as a doctor and they meet after Eric ends up in the infirmary for some reason. In either case, the reader is early 20’s and Eric is around 26, and everyone is older when the choosing ceremony takes place instead of being teenagers.

Cara Mia

Eric Coulter x fem reader (Jeanine's daughter)

"What the fuck, you put me in an arranged marriage", Eric yelled angrily toward Max.

yes, but it's beneficial because the girl you are marrying is Jeanine's daughter and is to further unite Erudite and Dauntless", Max said walking up to Eric and handing him a picture of you.

It was a picture of you in blue clothes with your hair down smiling in the photo. Eric had to admit you were beautiful, but it didn't matter, he wasn't the type to settle down.

"When do I meet her?", Eric said stuffing the photo in his back pocket.

"Tomorrow".

Y/N P.O.V

What, No mom I refused to get married to a guy I don't even know", You complained to your mom. You always knew this would happen, your mother using you for her own personal gain but you wished it wasn't today.

"It doesn't matter you will get married whether you like it or not. He's a Dauntless leader one of the youngest and was originally from Erudite himself". Jeanine finishes with no emotion on her stone-cold face.

She made it sound so easy to get married to a complete stranger but you had to do you had no other choice. She gave you a picture of the Dauntless leader, he looked scary with his piercings and tattoos. Blond hair and all-black outfits showing off his arms, no smile but his blue eyes were the most beautiful of his features.

"When do I meet him?-"

"Tomorrow"

I couldn't sleep at all, thinking about my future husband. What if he hates me? What if ignores me? so many scenarios coming to my head. I was too nervous to sleep waiting anxiously to meet my future husband.

I woke early the next morning trying to figure out what to wear.

"Good, you look presentable", my mother said before leaving out the door towards the car. I followed her waiting anxiously till we arrived.

Two Dauntless guards escorted us out of the car to the head of the leader of the Dauntless office.

I saw the guy in the photo looking displeased at everything, I could tell he wasn't so thrilled about the engagement.

"Eric this is my daughter", Jeanine introduced us to each other.

"we will leave you alone to get to know each other better", Max said before walking out with my mother closing the door.

"Look we both know we are not happy about this engagement but we should make the most of it right", I said but in return, I only heard a scoff.

"It doesn't matter but you should be happy to marry a dauntless leader like me, Cara Mia", Eric said in a cocky tone stepping closer to me.

Blushing I replied, "Why don't we try to get to each other, I'm Y/n, I am 20 years old, and my favorite color is (whatever you want)."

"Eric a Dauntless leader, 26, and Black"

"Isn't that just a fitting color for", I said gesturing to his clothes. For the first time, I saw him smile since I came here, which was beautiful.

We continued to talk and laugh, getting to know each other and surprisingly we had a lot in common. It wasn't until Eric had pointed out the time, we had been talking for two hours.

Time skip Eric P.O.V

"where the fuck is she?" Eric mumbled in annoyance entering the cafeteria, his eyes landed on Four, who was seated by the table alone. Somehow you and Four became best friends forcing him to tolerate Four.

Huffing, Eric approached the table Four was seated at. "what do you want Eric? I thought you were tired of me after you kicked me out of the training session earlier."

"That's because you disobeyed my orders by interrupting my session, with that being said have you seen my wife", Eric said barely looking at Four.

It's weird how fast Eric's life changed since he got married. He never imagined getting married but never thought he could enjoy being someone's husband. He usually calls you by your name but for some reason, the word wife feels good to say especially if it's you. There was no doubt in his mind that you were the best thing to ever happen to him, his everything.

"no, I haven't seen Y/n", Four said in a neutral voice.

Eric left after Four's reply stomping out of the canteen, making sure to brush a few weak initiates out of his way.

Eric thought not only were born with a sharp Erudite mind but a witty tongue, but you were also beautiful.

With steady steps, Eric quickly made his way down the corridors, a hard look on his face trying to remember where you were. With a slight grin, he thought back to last night when you two shared a steamy shower under the moonlight.

Eric was truly happy to see your face every morning when waking up. He was lucky to be your husband, to have in-depth conversations with you about whatever, to please you in every way possible, to read to you every night in bed, and then talk about the book.

Then he hurriedly walked towards the library, Eric could not help but smile when seeing your figure which appeared in the doorway of the library, your nose stuck in the book.

Eric stood in the shadows, watching your figure walk right past him. He looks at you for a second before looking down at the book, smiling slightly as he sees you are reading one of his favorite books " The Tale of Two Cities". Dauntless people did not read, especially not good novels but back in Erudite, he was aware this book was popular.

Emerging slowly out of the shadows, Eric firmly gripped your waist from behind, gently kissing your cheek. Before he knew a book came crashing down on his cheek, hard. As you swung around getting ready to punch doing the exact thing Eric had trained you to do.

"Eric Coulter, you dummy", you shouted at him before letting out a giggle as you noticed his faint red color cheek.

Meeting your eyes, Eric let out a laugh while rubbing his cheek. "I have been looking everywhere for you Cara Mia, I didn't think you were here after you completely emptied to library yesterday.

"well I was looking for this book, so I came back", You told him kissing red cheek. When you married Eric it was like a dream, already been a year. Even though it was an arranged marriage it was purely all love.

His lips gently brushed against yours, memorizing the feeling of your lips against his before he let go," You're my wife, my everything. My world, I don't know what I'd do without you. Let me show how much I appreciate you, Cara Mia".

[hazbinshusk]

written for @idkanygoodusernamesblog. blitzø x afab/fem reader. it was supposed to be quick and easy, but it morphed into a 1.7k monster. blitzø finds out you're a virgin and offers to help you out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Look, if this is your kink, you can just say it, sugartits,” Blitzø quips casually, an eyebrow raised and an annoyingly familiar smirk in place as he studies you. He has a drink in hand and he lounges back against the arm of the couch, all swagger and self-assuredness. “Let that freak-ass flag of yours fly.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks flushed with heat as you set your glass back on the coffee table in front of you. You should have known agreeing to get drunk with the imp was a stupid idea. You were far too honest when drunk. “It’s not a kink.”

He blinks at you for a moment, blinks again. Then he bursts in raucous laughter.

“You’re fuckin’ serious?!” he crows incredulously. “You died a virgin?!”

“Shut the fuck up, Blitzø.”

“How the shit did that even happen?” he continues, undaunted by your tone. “You are way too fuckable to not get dicked down on the reg.”

You sigh, forcing a shrug despite the way his comment sends a thrill through you. “It’s not that complicated, dude. It just… never happened, alright?”

Blitzø’s smirk widens into something more devious. His tail twitches almost predatorily, and you feel the spade of it brush against your thigh. You were wearing a dress, and the feel of it, even briefly, against your bare skin sets goosebumps along your flesh. “Want to fix that?”

“Don’t be a dick, Blitzø.”

“No, I’m offering you my dick, sweetness,” he replies, his eyes travelling over you in a way that makes you press your thighs together. It’s a tiny movement, but from the way his eyes flick back to your face and his smile twitches wider, you know he noticed it. He shifts in his seat, leaning towards you. You see his gaze drop to the swell of your breasts for a moment, his pupils dilating. “I can show you what you’ve been missin’, and you get to experience some top-shelf quality fucking at the same time.”

You swallow, nerves and something that makes your exhalation shudder rising inside you. “What makes you think I’d be interested in—”

Blitzø runs a hand up your knee, pushing it aside until he can move to knee between your thighs. His claws graze along your skin and you shiver. “I’ve got fifty bucks that says you’re dripping wet right now.”

You scoff. “Oh, yeah, because I’m just gonna—”

The imp’s mouth meets yours hungrily, your voice catching in a squeak as he pushes you back against the arm of the couch. His kiss is rough but his lips are surprisingly soft, and you find yourself reaching up to take his face in your hands. You can feel Blitzø’s smirk against your lips, feel his hand claim your hip, and when you whimper, he slides his tongue into your mouth.

Heat floods through every inch of you to pool in your lower stomach, and you arch up under his touch as his hand brushes up along your waist. One of your hands moves up to touch the spikes between his horns and Blitzø groans in response, his teeth graze your bottom lip.

“Fuck…” he chuckles against your lips, and you whine as his mouth moved down over the side of your neck. His hands squeeze your thighs and spread them wider, and your breathing shakes as he sucks what you would later swear is a possessive mark into the side of your throat.

You fumble with his shirt and he pulls away to take it off, his eyes closing briefly as you reach up to run your fingers over the scars coloring his side. Then his mouth is on yours again his hands tearing the buttons down the front of your dress. When they’re undone he spreads the fabric apart, and you flush under his gaze as he lets it travel down over your body.

“Satan’s balls, you’re like a wet dream.”

You laugh despite yourself and he grins widely, cupping your breast in his hand. You moan, pressing into his touch as he squeezes.

“Christ, that sound is going straight to my dick.” Blitzø groans, lowering himself over to you to run his tongue over a lace-covered nipple and down over your shuddering stomach. His claws curl around your inner thighs. “Now, you remember my name, don’t ya, sugar?”

“Wh— of course I do!”

“Good,” he says, all cocksure smirk and hooded eyes as you hear the obnoxious sound of your underwear being torn away from your body. He spreads your legs wider, his eyes on yours as he hesitates just above where you suddenly need him the most. “’Cause you’re about to have a real strong urge to start screamin’ for ‘God’, but he’s got nothin’ to do with how fuckin’ good you’re about to feel.”

You don’t even have time to roll your eyes before his tongue is on your clit and you moan. He snickers, pulling away long enough to comment, “Heh, I fuckin’ knew you were wet.”

Despite his humor he works you apart slowly, reveling in the way your head falls back against the arm of the couch and the way your hips rise up to push against his mouth. His hands smooth over your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles against your pelvis as he teases your clit.

“Blitzø…” you whimper his name and he slides a finger into you, sucking on your clit as you grind against his face.

“Damn fuckin’ right,” he mutters proudly against your cunt, flicking his forked tongue over your swollen clit. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“So fucking good…” you whine and when he laughs you take hold of his horns and force his face back between your legs. His laugh turns to one of pride, and he rewards you with another finger and the teasing of his tongue against your clit. “Fuck, Blitzø…”

He pulls away slowly, almost reluctantly, teeth digging into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before he climbs back up your body. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest little thing when you wanna cum?” he teases, his fingers still asking a lazy pace inside you. “Wanna beg me for it?”

“Prick,” you spit out even as your eyes roll back.

“’Atta girl.” he snickers, taking hold of the hand you have clenched around the couch cushion and leading it between his legs. Your palm cups the bulge straining against his jeans and he groans, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you dare to squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He kisses you before you can answer, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You jerk beneath him as his thumb touches your clit. “Tell me you want it, baby. Tell me you want my cock in your sweet little cunt.”

You nod eagerly, pulling him down into another kiss that’s all tongue and heavy breath. When you speak its against his lips. “Please.”

You hear the clink of his belt and when he presses his cock into you its slowly, every inch given to you in agonizing increments. You arch up under him, one hand clutching at his arm as he fills you, his face falling to the crook of your neck.

“Holy tits, you feel good…” he mutters into your skin, lips and teeth grazing your collarbone. He pauses when he bottoms out inside you, the full size of him creating an intoxicating ache between your thighs as he stretches you further open. “Shiiiiit….”

He doesn’t move until he feels you rock your hips beneath his, taking up a pace that you could almost consider careful, sliding almost all the way out of you before thrusting back in. Its steady and its infuriatingly slow but every press of his hips into yours makes your breath hitch and your fingers flex against his shoulders. You can feel his tail wind itself around your calf, feel the heat of his breath against your throat.

“How’s it feel, sugar?” he asks even as he groans his own pleasure, a crease in his brow. “You ready to start screaming yet?”

You attempt to swallow back a moan but it breaks in your throat, coming out as a plea for harder.

Blitzø grins and obliges, kissing you again as his hips almost slam into yours. This time you do moan aloud, breaking away from his mouth to throw your head back. You wrap your legs around him, forcing him to thrust deeper, to graze against that sweet spot inside you with every press forward, and when he does you cum, loudly and with his name on your lips.

Blitzø fucks you like that until you can feel tears in your eyes and your thighs are shaking, each new orgasm announced with your voice calling out his name. When he touches your clit you curse and tighten around him so much that his eyes roll back, and Blitzø cums too, swearing into your chest.

Unable to roll off you on the couch – you lost your virginity on his couch – he slides out of you slowly and shakily pushes himself up into a kneel between your thighs, slumping against the back of the couch.

He chuckles, wiping a hand over his face. “Fuckin’ told ya you’d be screaming my name.”

You shove him away with you knee and his laughter doubles. He catches hold of your thigh, smirking in satisfaction as your flesh twitches from overstimulation. You smile despite yourself, your breathing unsteady. “Asshole.”

“You want me to fuck that too?” he shoots back cockily. “I’d say we need lube but you’re so wet we can—“

You push yourself up and grab him around the back of his neck, jerking him down into a kiss. He relaxes into it, and you feel his hand ghost over your thigh and up to your waist.

“Blitzø.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

He grins, and you shudder as he grazes his fingers over the mark he left on your thigh. “Gotcha.”

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐃𝐈𝐒-𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐓.

synposis. you ask the fontainian boys and girlies for a lesson in the language of their nation — french, to better understand them and become closer.

genre. fluff + crack

ft. navia, lyney, furina, neuvillette

disclaimer. i had french for seven years in school, but my knowledge in the language is in no way perfect, so if i make mistakes, i apologize in advance! pointing out mistakes is okay, but don’t be an ass about it. furthermore, any terms of endearment that are written here will be used with their respective possessive pronoun to keep it gender neutral. for example, cherie is feminine, so i will put ma in front of it. cœur is masculine, so i will put mon. i hope this is lucid enough! lastly, if any qualities used ( fav color, macaron ) do not align with your preferences, feel free to change it in your head — i just used my own to make the sentence flow. OH and one more note i promise- some things can’t really be translated the same in english as they sound in french! mon cœur for example is not really a term of endearment you hear the same in english.. so if the translation sounds weird, it’s just because some things can’t sound the same unfortunately.. THATS WHY FOREIGN LANGUAGES ARE MORE ROMANTIC🗣️🗣️

gender neutral! reader

➫ 𝓝𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗔 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ oh she was so excited when you showed interest in her native language, it was just so romantic and things couldn’t be expressed as deeply in english as they were in french.

⌗ very patient with teaching you! she prefers a more verbal approach with teaching you and despite her formal nature, she teaches you a casual and easy way of speaking that doesn’t make you sound robotic😭

⌗ “imparfait is used a lot when written, in speech however — between you and me.. you don’t hear it really often! so we’re just gonna focus on le passé composé~ <3”

⌗ if you feel insecure about your lack of accent, it’s okay ( bc me too. ), navia won’t judge you for it! she’s just happy that you’re willing to learn for her!

⌗ likes to set up a scenario for you to test your proficiency! this time around, she had invited clorinde to join you both for tea and macarons.

⌗ clorinde was as patient as a one came.. and was happy to be having navia’s macarons once more.

⌗ “ah~ y/n, voulez-vous un autre macaron? quelle saveur souhaitez-vous?” / “ah~ y/n, would you like another macaron? which flavor would you like?”

⌗ clorinde is just sipping away her tea as the gears are turning in your head to answer navia properly. “oui.. um, je voulais un de chocolat, s’il vous plaît..” / “yes.. um, i’d like a chocolate one, please.”

⌗ cue uncertainty in your words but navia just smiles brightly before clapping. “très bien, ma cherie~! voilà, un macaron de chocolat.” / “very good, my darling! here you go, one chocolate macaron.”

⌗ despite your embarrassment, the tea party went surprisingly well? you eventually got a little more comfortable despite your easy way of speaking, but navia couldn’t be prouder<3

➫ 𝓛𝗬𝗡𝗘𝗬 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ he is a total tease with it and is the kind of tutor that would ask what you are referring to or press for more information just to mess around with you.

⌗ say he asks what your favorite color is, he’ll totally 100% ask WHY it’s your favorite color, and will await with this innocent smile for you to explain. like so.. “pourquoi le rouge est ta couleur préférée, hm? explique-moi s’il vous plaît, mon cœur~” / “why is red your favorite color, hm? please explain to me, my heart~”

⌗ “one of these days lyney, i swear..” you’d mutter and he’d just put a hand to his ear. “hm, qu’est ce-que vous avez dit? je ne comprends pas!” / “hm, what was that you said? i don’t understand!”

⌗ he is fr testing your patience, and now you are wondering whether or not it was a good idea to say you wanted to learn french. he is the most meddlesome teacher!

⌗ i feel like he’s one of those that refuses to answer you unless you respond in french. doesn’t have to be perfect, but he needs to hear you trying! thinks it’s the best way for you to pick up the language — an environment where you are inclined to speak it!

⌗ he probably makes lynette and freminet join in on this scheme of his.. fremmy is mouthing apologies in english to you while lynette is apologizing for her troublesome brother.

⌗ it’s needless to say, despite the extremities, lyney’s method kind of worked? i mean you’re in an environment where all you hear is french and you are forced to speak it in order to communicate with your lover and his family, sooo.. you’re bound to pick it up. sorta.

⌗ when arlecchino was in town again for a visit to check on her kids, you had this idea once you felt you knew enough of the language to ask for her approval on you dating lyney, since she hadn’t known yet.

⌗ so with lyney present, you shocked him completely by walking up to the fatui harbinger with a shaky confidence, holding your heart as you stared up at her. “madame arlecchino.. il m’a fallu beacoup de temps pour apprendre les mots.. mais,” you paused, sucking in a breath. “je voudrais avouer que je suis très amoureux de ton fils.. et je souhaite votre approbation!” / “miss arlecchino, it took me a lot of time to learn the words.. but, i wanted to confess that i am very much in love with your son, and i wish for your approval!”

⌗ lyney was in complete shock of what his ‘father’ might say, but when the smallest smile painted her lips, relief washed over him. “vous devez vraiment l’aimer beaucoup, si vous avez appris le français pour me dire ça.. vous avez mon approbation.” / “you must love him very much, then, if you learned french to tell me this.. you have my approval.”

➫ 𝓕𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗔 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ oh, you thought lyney was bad? think again. furina is on another level of teaching french and just as troublesome, if not- worse, as he is with his methods of teaching you..

⌗ she’s got you writing, doing grammar and spelling, speaking, reading — everything you can imagine. all because you showed the tiniest bit of interest in the language since furina’s performances are often in french.

⌗ in hindsight, you just wanted to learn to understand her better whenever you attended her shows</3

⌗ when she realizes she’s overdoing things, she eases up and recoils a little, not wanting to overflow you with information. it was meant to be something fun for you both anyway to connect you more, not another year of education for you..

⌗ and so she switches to another method of teaching — which is practicing her scripts with you!

⌗ she helps you with your lines, and whatever you don’t understand, she will explain to you so that you guys can have your little performance together<3

⌗ she’ll summon her little animal friends with her vision to act as supporting cast while the two of you act out your lines. cue you being a flustered mess cuz you’re worried about your pronunciation and emotion since hers is so on point, but her eyes sparkle when she hears you trying. you can tell she’s glad you wanted to do this with her.

⌗ some scripts include her singing and it’s just the most beautiful thing. you had heard her once singing la vie en rose in the shower while reading a book and ever since, you’d wished to hear her again.

⌗ “et tu, mon ange..” she cupped your cheek, eyes filled with love for you. “mon étoile.. ma raison de vivre, de tout mon coeur, corps et âme, t’adore tendrement.” / “and you, my angel.. my star.. my reason for living, with all of my heart, body and soul, i adore you dearly.”

⌗ despite it being part of her lines, the script she was following, you had felt every word that was expressed and knew that furina had meant it all.

➫ 𝓝𝗘𝗨𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ similar to navia, he’s very patient with you and not as strict as he looks like he would be. he’s very gentle and sweet about it.

⌗ when you told him you wanted to learn his native language, you could see the slightest hint of elation in his visage. if you were around water, it was bound to twinkle in response to his emotions.

⌗ it was decided that he would teach you as best as he could, and his methods were a little less verbal than the others though. he wanted to teach you the written part to help you with vocabulary and forming sentences. if you had that down, you would have a little more ability and inspiration to respond to him more easily.

⌗ although, he loved reading to you as well, even if it made you a little sleepy. his voice was just so soothing, you couldn’t help yourself when it came to monsieur neuvillette</3

⌗ however he made a point to do this after you guys practiced, since he realized it serenaded you more than it taught you.. but he didn’t mind, you looked so peaceful and adorable<3

⌗ still don’t have the pronunciation down for the very machine he used everyday for trials? he’s got you. “selon le jugement de l’oratrice de mécanique d’analyse cardinale..” yes. yes i did that. no translation needed.

⌗ it made you giggle a little when he said it, him obviously not phased by you asking him to pronounce it — little did he know you just wanted to hear him say it cuz it was silly..

⌗ one day you bring him a book series called ‘fables de fontaine’ — which are in essence, folktales of fontaine, with the intention of reading them with his assistance.

⌗ it made him smile to see you shyly hold up the stack of volumes, but he nodded and sat you down on his lap to read them together, as a means of testing your proficiency.. and maybe- just maybe.. cuz you wanted an excuse to be close with him.

⌗ regardless, he didn’t mind and rather valued the time you shared together since he was the ludex of fontaine — meaning he was often very busy and unavailable</3 so whatever time he got with you, was always and forever cherished by him<3 even if you kind of just maybe.. fell asleep midway while reading.. it just made him chuckle before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “beaux rêves, mon bijou.” / “sweet dreams, my jewel.”

notes. i had this in my drafts for ages, to any of my french speaking readers — please don’t butcher me :’))) anyway i hope this was okay, little different from what i normally do since i don’t really showcase me writing in other languages cuz it’s more work to add translations — and it’s difficult to stay gender neutral😵‍💫

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[the-tulpar-daycare]

Mouthwashing Agere Headcanons!

[plain text: Mouthwashing Agere Headcanons!]

hiiihihi! i just wanted to make some bc they're all so little to me... except jimmy we don't like jimmy

🩹 [CURLY] 🚀

☆ Baby regressor! His normal age range is somewhere between 0-2

✧ Very clingy little! Will not stop pestering the crew for cuddles

☆ Voluntary and involuntary regressor!

✧ Very chatty! He'll just babble on and on for hours

☆ After a particularly rough day, you can normally find him flopped somewhere in the lounge with a blanket watching a show

👾 [DAISUKE] 🌺

☆ Middle regressor! Normally around 8-12, but sometimes goes younger!

✧ Just like Curly, he'll absolutely talk your ear off

☆ Loves playing games of any kind!

✧ Little ball of energy. He's constantly either talking or moving

☆ You can placate him for a little bit with a coloring/activity sheet, but once he finishes, he's right back up!

✧ Voluntary regressor, although sometimes he'll start to regress without thinking it through

💊 [ANYA] 🐈‍⬛

☆ Flip! Normally regresses between 4-6

✧ Very receptive to baby talk and babbles

☆ "Oh! Mhm, really? Is that so?"

✧ Fairly lenient with rules! As long as you're healthy and safe, she doesn't mind that much!

☆ Involuntary regressor!

✧ Loves cats (and all animals, really) when she's little

☆ She'll draw you a picture or 2 or 5!

🪓 [SWANSEA] 🔧

☆ Caregiver!

✧ Decently strict with rules, but not super restrictive

☆ Will absolutely let you have candy before bed, as long as you don't tell the others

✧ Surprisingly easy to wear down into getting treats and presents!

☆ He just really likes getting things for his little

✧ He's very soft and gentle with his little when he needs to be!

oki das all! i hope u liek em ^^

i had lotsa fun wif dese!! swansea is da best papa fr 🙏🙏

@agereiscool u said i could tag u! :>