#this thing is sturdy as heck

[tj-crochets]

The orange canvas and national parks tote for my uncle is done!!

I’ll take photos with better lighting tomorrow when the sun is up again, but I’m so happy with how this turned out. I made the bag pattern myself, because I couldn’t find one the size I wanted, and it’s got two patch pockets on the inside because I bought way too much national parks fabric and because pockets are useful

[justatypicalwizard]

Up and under | Jayce

Aracne Jayce x Zaun seamstress reader The relationship went up and under, missed chances and regrettable mistakes. If only Zaun and Piltover were not so very different places. After spending days in that pit Jayce understood that before the upcomming battle he has to make things right with you. Jayce and reader have history before the Arcane plot. This story follows the second season of Arcane but loosely. Word count: 3,5k

He really should have asked you to dance that night. Jayce thought to himself as he laid at the dark bottom, the hole he fell into. It must have been days, weeks even. His hair grew long and messy, beard scratched and muscles ached from the omnipresent cold. The broken bone was nearly mended, judging from his ability to walk.

Thrashing around the dirty floor for hours upon hours Jayce had time to think. It felt like He had never wondered before, not like that. Jayce Talis was hardly a man of overinterpreting and overthinking. He deemed himself sturdy and down to earth. Maybe if he ever took the time to properly gaze upon his doings he wouldn't be here now. Viktor wouldn't be corrupted by the hextech, Sky wouldn't be dead and the whole of Piltover wouldn't be a ruin. He could have been dancing with you, gold and silver lacing the summer night air.

It was hard to remember exactly what charity event they attended. One of the families must have been throwing a ball. It could have been related to academia, that would answer why the heck he was even there.

Jayce was standing in line, a few other men in front of him. There was a multitude of people present in one of the academia rooms that day. Fitting for tuxedos. It must have been connected to his whole year, maybe the whole academia even if so many students were gathered.

Shaking his head he sighed, it felt like ages ago, too far for his mind to stretch. Doesn't matter.

What he did remember was the line he was standing in compared to the queue for your measuring. You were there, a simple yet trustworthy bag on the desk, sewing supplies scattered all around as you were never the type to mind putting tools back on their place when working. Gold seeped through the vast windows bathing you and Viktor in a golden hue, supplying you with the natural light that was best for your work, that you didn't have back home.

Only Viktor, good old Viktor, chose to try on your tuxedo, the seamstress from Zaun. How could he not, the two of you knew each other somehow. At first Jayce thought it was the reason you were allowed into academia in the first place. Later he learned about your standing as a seamstress and a stylist. Back then he didn't give much thought to his mistake, you were a Zaunian after all. He should be ashamed.

The other stylists clicked their tongues and rolled their eyes at you, a dirty intruder in their clockwork golden world, a faulty gear. But after being pushed into a shirt with a lacy ruff squeezing his throat like a bad cold Jayce gazed with longing at your fresh and modern designs.

Viktor looked handsome, turning around slowly on his trustworthy cane. His shirt was white and seemed to be crafted with meticulous precision, from geometric pieces hugging the body of the wearer in every right way. Jayce huffed, looking back at his own yolk yellow shirt and making a mental note to ask Viktor about you later, when no one will be watching.

That's how Jayce knew the way to your workshop. It was not deep Zaun, not slums infected with The Grey nor junkie tent-cities. Yet, it was past the bridge, past what seemed socially acceptable in his cast.

Even now, when the city was half abandoned, everyone preparing for the upcoming battle, Jayce Talis b-lined his past self into your workshop. It looked different than years before. The sign was more devilish, fungi building up on the wood, the original color long gone, the edges daring to leave your fingers full of splinters. The glass was dirty and oily from the bad air. The entry door dark and unwelcoming, not even a flicker of light behind them. Jayce knew better than to turn around, he learned it that day.

Viktor gave him the directions that he followed, finding himself in front of a  small workshop. A hand-painted sign welcomed the patrons. With a little bit of hesitation he pushed the door open only to enter a nearly empty room. Apart from a few mannequins with rather odd looking dresses there was only dust hanging in the air. Jayce took a few steps forward and jumped in fear upon hearing someone's voice.

“What'cha lookin’ here for boy?” An old woman sat behind the counter. She was as still as a sculpture, easily overlooked as one of the mannequins. The tops of her white, rheumatic knuckles visible over the counter. She was clutching something under the surface.

In a peaceful manner Jayce raised his hands, slowly coming closer.

“I'm looking for a young seamstress. I need a tuxedo.” She looked Jayce up and down with a frown. “If I got the wrong address I'm sorry, I was following directions from a friend.”

“Friend who?” She pestered eying a stopwatch hanging from his pocket on a thin gold chain.

“One Viktor.” Jayce figured giving away his partner's surname to a shady Zaunian old lady most likely clutching a gun may not be the smartest idea. Instead he mimicked Viktor’s cane walk with an awkward smile.

“Down the stairs and to the right.” A clang could be heard from under the counter and a sigh left the man's lungs. As he passed the woman he saw her hungry gaze still zeroed in on the stopwatch. Jayce clutched it tighter descending the stairs.

Your head popped from under a pile of material, gaze surprised. Before you had time to ask who he was Jayce already stated his purpose. The short encounter with the old woman proved him not to test the limit of the Zaunian distrust.

“I'm here for a tuxedo.” He smiled, the atmosphere of the room lighter despite an even thicker density of dust in the air. 

“Of course.” You neared him with a measuring line but halted to gaze at the stopwatch on the thin golden chain. “On second thought, I may not have materials to your liking, sir.”

Sir. A transparent wall grew between you and him. The glint in your eye was gone, replaced with something sad.

“I can bring material, it's the design I'm more hung on honestly.” Somehow Jayce didn't want the fierceness of your gaze to drift away. He wanted to see it when you looked at him. Yet, you still didn't look sure, taking a step back and breaking your fingers. “Viktor said I should visit you, I asked who designed his set.” Maybe bringing forward a familiar name would melt the suddenly arisen tension. 

His small manipulation worked. You seemed to nod at the name, quickly shooting questions about how he knew Viktor. He briefed you on the whole academia buddies, charity event thing and soon he was taking his coat off to give you the measurements.

The dim lights were not the vast academia windows flooding you with sunlight. A cramped room full of scraps to repurpose didn't meet the standards of Piltover designer workshops. A nobody Zaunian seamstress was not a renowned stylist. Yet, Jayce Talis followed every move of your skilled fingers working on his scarcely clothed arms, admiring how small your palm looked in his.

He dragged his tired legs further into the workshop. The odd dresses merged into an odd pile of junk, mannequins arm or headless, scattered on the floor. The man pushed forward, descending the stairs. He'd love for the memories of flickering candlelight, dusty air and your little intimate space to take over him but Jayce Talis was never one to escape his mistakes. So he went forward, taking in the ruin of what was left of your workshop, of your life. These walls remember countless conversation, a multitude of moments spent together. Bits of memories when Jayce missed chance after chance for what might have changed his life.

“I want to make peoples' lives better.” He stated, unconsciously pushing his chest forward, swelling with pride. He was spending, yet another, evening in the underground of your little workshop, your little world. Lately, he could be spotted here rather often, for measuring of course. “Especially the most hard-working ones like the miners - ouch!” A pin scratched him under the shoulder blade. “Was that on purpose?” Jayce smiled, turning his head to the side to look at you, working the material on his back. “What will people think if I leave with so many scratches on my back? Ouch! This one was on purpose.”

“You're being very improper, sir.” You seemed to be controlling the transparent wall, putting it up and tearing down to your liking

“I'm sorry.” He let out a small laugh. “Shouldn't be talking like that to my friend's lady.”

“You got it all wrong.” Jayce crooked a brow at your denying. “Not all Zaunians date each other just because we know one another.”

The strong division between the under and upper city was a constant variable in the chemistry of your encounters. At that time Jayce thought it was something natural, just as the world spinned, just as day came after night, Zaun and Piltover were opposites. Only later did he realise, it was his prejudice that inflicted this schema, that evoked such a defensive mechanism in you.

“Oh.” He breathed, a tint of pink dusting his cheeks at the thought of you possibly being open for options. He caught you peeking a look at him but you turned around.

“So, miners you were saying.”

“Yes.” Coughing awkwardly, he gathered his thoughts. “Just think about all the inventions that could make their work easier. Shorter shifts with the same level of efficiency, less physical labour per hour, safer work environment. With new technology I - I mean we could make Zaun a…” He stopped, red flashing his cheeks. Once again he let his stupid tongue lap uncontrolled.

“A better place.” You defleated like a hot-air balloon after all the tourists were done with their ride. “You don't need to hide your feelings about this place. I'm used to this.” There was a bite towards the end of your words. Used but they still hurt.

“Well, you shouldn't be used to them. Zaun should be just as good a place to live as Piltover.” Then, Jayce really thought so. He looked at Viktor and he wanted the next generations of children to live a better childhood. He looked at you and wished for all the women in the undercity to feel safe and not have to keep guns under the counter of their small workshops. What he didn't see was that it might not have been an issue with Zaun only, rather the exclusivity of Piltover.

“It doesn't matter, really.” The smile was back on your face. More pins poking out of a small pillow strapped onto your wrist. Precisely cut out pieces of fabric in your fingers as you approached him with a soft look on your face. “Stay still.”

Jayce watched as you pinned the back and the front of his shirt together. You worked over his shoulders, the front of his chest, his belly area. You were close, inspecting what would soon be seams, calculating where to put them to squeeze out all the handsomeness he had to offer.

“Look up.” You commanded, putting a finger under his chin to tilt it upwards. Yet, he still looked down as your fingers worked the collar around his neck.

If he would move his head back down Jayce could meet you halfway. It was tempting, he remembered that feeling very well. His fingers itched, hands laying useless on his knees. He wanted to put them around your waist, put his lips to yours. It would be wonderful. Jayce Talis knew he had a small crush on you, a sweet little nothing. Yet, he could change that. Undoubtedly, if he grabbed you here and now, kissed you and told you how pretty you looked when focusing, his crush wouldn't stay a little nothing. It would be hard to stop it if it started. You could do it, here in the workshop. Or he could take you back to his place.

Jayce saw a scar on your forehead, faint enough to go unnoticed unless you moved very close, like he was now. What happened? Did you fall while playing as a child? Did you hit your head in the cramped space that was your workshop? Did someone do this to you? Did Zaun happen?

It was just a goddamned mark on the hairline. You might as well have been born with it, but for some reason the past Jayce felt like this was the hill he would die on.

“A - are you done?” His eyes darted upwards. You caught him red handed as he stared at you and for some time, you also stared at him. Yet, his comment made you both back away.

You nodded, patting your sides, walking away to supposedly look at something in your sketchbook.

What was he thinking? Jayce was from Piltover, a promising inventor coming from a renowned branch of academia. He worked for his success so hard and just now he wanted to get entangled with a Zaun girl just because she came close to his face.

Jayce Talis forgot he had a crush on you, he forgot all the moments he admired your skill, humuor, and person. He scolded himself for thinking with the wrong part of his body.

You guided him to a tall mirror. It was dusty but when Jayce looked into it a handsome man stared back. The clothes on his body looked fantastic, it would only take a good pair of trousers and elegant shoes to make him look like one of the most important people of Piltover. In the back he saw you, breaking your fingers.

“It's perfect.” He said.

That night Jayce left with many regrets, balancing which ones were greater - the missed chance to kiss you or the fact that he nearly jeopardized his own career with a scandal.

He never ever anticipated that Viktor of all people would get interested in his love life. As they met at the academia, moments before entering the charity event, the partners talked.

“I see that you took my advice on a seamstress.” Viktor smiled softly as only he knew how. Both of their outfits, despite obvious differences, held similarities of design. Jayce nodded and wanted to add something but Viktor continued. “You know, I asked her here tonight. Did you bring a pair?”

The other man's eyes widened. Bringing a pair to the ball was not necessary but rather a social norm, unless one was looking for a fiance. Now the ton would think he is either awkward or open for marriage.

“Now this will look funny, me with a lady and you without one.”

It was tough to stay together, the amount of patrons looking for a conversation with the promising inventors overflowing. Jayce glowed between them, starving for the attention. The world was gold with dresses and clocks, tuxedos and flowers, expensive champagne and microscopic dishes. The moon bathed the open terrace with a silvery hue. It felt like hours and millions of polite conversations later when Jayce bumped into Viktor and you.

Of course your dress was perfect. It was hand sewn by you yourself. It hugged you in all the right places, bringing out your beauty. Tonight you didn't look like a girl from the undercity. Yet, there was something off. Like a chameleon you merged with the crowd but it only took a few steps closer to see something was wrong. It may have been the cheapness of the fabric that you crafted your dress from. Obviously you wouldn't have the money to buy equally soft and luxurious material as the one Jayce brought to your workshop days ago. Or your hair, too roughly cut for a Piltover lady. The fact that you looked a bit lost, clutching onto Viktor's arm as if he was a lighthouse amidst a storm. Maybe that's why people left you alone.

You asked for a moment so Viktor promised to wait for you. In the meantime he turned to Jayce.

“Busy night, isn't it?” He started, visibly tired, relying on his cane more and more.

“Yes.” Jayce nodded, whipping his head around to see if anyone else wished to talk to him.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Viktor might have as well grown another head, from how surprised Jayce looked. “You see, I'm not much of a dancer as you could guess.” He tapped the tiled floor with his cane. “Would you mind taking her to the dancefloor, only once. I saw how she looked at the other pairs.”

Viktor wanted him to dance with you. Dance, keep you close while twirling around. Put a hand on your waist and look into your eyes. Lead you into the curious crowd. He was ready to say yes and a split second from running away from his friend. The thought of dancing with you didn't even cross his mind that was too occupied with the opulence of the night. Now, when Viktor planted the image, he couldn't stop his mind from running.

“Hello.” You greeted him politely, coming back from the ladies room. Jayce looked at you and nearly melted like the ice statue some person of doubtful intelligence thought of bringing tonight.

“So?” Viktor pushed, stepping closer, leaning into Jayce's ear so that only he would hear him. “She really likes you.”

There was hope in Viktor's eyes, hope for Jayce being smarter than stereotypes. As a Zaunian himself Viktor knew what it meant to get your strings cut when someone learned about your place of birth, how it felt to get judged solely on the basis of upper or undercity. That's why he hoped that Jayce could put aside such artificial prejudice. Unfortunately Viktor was wrong, it would take years for Jayce to understand his mistake.

“I should really get going, the patrons won't wait for me unless I catch them.” He smiled awkwardly nodding his head at you and turned in his heel to merge into the crowd.

“I see.” Viktor whispered, squeezing your palm just as disappointment squeezed his heart.

For the rest of the night Jayce Talis felt like suffocating. Nothing was the same, the conversations were off, the lights were too bright, the alcohol too light. He blamed it on the late hour, he must have been tired after spending the whole day running around the academia. He really didn't want to admit that what he felt was shame and guilt.

After the ball night Jayce only saw you amongst others. You merged with the background of what created Viktor’s person and stayed there. Only after spending days at the pit bottom of a ruined Piltover Jayce accepted his feelings. They never really died out, he pushed them down his throat forcefully and pretended you never existed. Then came his career that filled in the hole. Later came Mel - a trophy that made him swell with pride. Such a powerful woman chose him out of everyone. Maybe if he wasn't so handsome he would grow out smarter.

After coming back to Piltover Jayce wanted to close many chapters in his book, afraid that soon fate will most likely cut his story short. He wanted to make his wrongs right, to die with a consciousness even only slightly lighter than what he felt now. So he knew he had to find you, to tell you the truth.

It took him past the workshop, past the counter and down the stairs into the room once packed with fabric and sketchbooks. Now it was a ghost town. You most likely gave away everything that you had to aid the upcoming battle. Were you even here? You could as well take the hexgate to a better place, find a new workshop, get a new life, new friends and a new man, one that would be honest with you. Yet, something inside him told Jayce he would find you here, and he did.

Your head emerged from under one of the empty desks. You hid upon hearing someone descend the stairs, but you came out when you saw him. So still, after all these years the betrayed girl from Zaun trusted Jayce Talis.

“Jayce?”

It was a rhetorical question, nonetheless one very appropriate. He looked so different. His hair grew out, he had a beard and a sharp look on his features, nothing like the charismatic, warm inventor-boy. Carrying the hammer, heavy like his guilt, made Jayce bigger, more manly and sturdy, more closed and reserved.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“What are you doing here?” He might as well reverse the question. You should be long gone, not carry his mistakes and risk your life in this burning hole.

“I couldn't leave.” There was anger on your tired face. Jayce always knew what to say to sour your mood.

“Then I guess fate gave me another chance to make things clear.” He said more to himself than to you.

You did not understand his words. You did not understand when he came closer. You did not understand when he sank above you, the guilt and burden bringing his shoulders down.

“I'm sorry.”

Jayce said and kissed you, wishing for all that he meant to echo through his lips. It must have, because you put your palms on his cheeks and pushed into his chest showing that there was still one last person in all of the world who wanted him.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Some angst to fluff of himbo kiri finding out reader is pregnant?-🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Romance, Pregnancy, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, PIV, pregnancy sex, oral, lemon, profanity

Link to My Master List

Well, shit.

You stand in your apartment bathroom nervously tapping your foot as you re-read the pregnancy test instructions. Plus sign means positive. Minus sign means negative. You grab the test with clumsy hands and it almost goes sailing into the toilet – almost. You manage to catch it before it hits the porcelain throne and you scramble to read it again. There, on the cheap drugstore pregnancy test, is the faintest of plus signs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Okay – gotta think this through. Have you always wanted a baby? Yes. But are you ready for a baby now!?

Your mind whirs through all of the details of your life – steady partner? Check. Reliable source of income? Check. Decent living space? Check.

Sure, you’re a little younger than you would have liked, but to hell with it – you have everything you need to bring a baby into this world. So why the heck not!?

A baby! You’re going to have a baby. And not just any baby – Eijiro Kirishima’s baby.

You laugh giddily and race out of the bathroom to get your phone. It’s lying on the floral Ikea bedspread where you left it.

 You click open your home and see your background is currently an image of Keanu Reeves from John Wick. Oh. That’s right – you had swapped our your usual background pic of Kirishima for this image last night. After you two had fought for an hour.

Your petty revenge on Eijiro has always been to change your phone background to a hot, skinny actor. It always drives him a little crazy – he hates to see you lust over other celebrities. Especially the slim, emo looking ones – it always makes him a little on edge that his big muscular himbo body might no longer be your taste. It’s petty of you, and maybe even a little mean playing into your boyfriend’s insecurities like this…but it’s really the only ammo you have against him when you’re annoyed or angry. Of all the things a person could do to get back at their partner for something, having Keanu as your phone background doesn’t seem so bad.

You swipe to unlock your phone and pull up your last conversation with Kiri. You know you need to tell him ASAP, but the two of you haven’t spoken since your blowout the night before. It’s not as if you’ve broken up or anything, but you both needed some space.

You think back to the argument. The two of you rarely fight, but this particular quarrel had been festering for months. Kirishima maintains in public that he’s single. He refuses to put you in the spotlight, worrying that in announcing he’s “involved” with you, he’ll be putting you in harm’s way. He’s put away so many villains over the past decade, and he fears that they would come after you as revenge on Red Riot.

For months you’ve been telling him you’re ready to take on the risk. The two of you have been a couple for 3 years now. When he refuses to acknowledge that he has a girlfriend in the press, it makes you feel insecure. Does he not take this relationship seriously? Does he not think that you two are capable of going the distance? In private, he worships the ground you walk on, but is that all just for show when you’re alone?

The night before, you had expressed these fears and doubts, practically begging Eijiro to call his publicist and break the news that Japan’s Sturdy Hero is taken and off the dating market.

Aside from your personal insecurities, you hate seeing the way that women endlessly flirt with Eijiro in public. They ask for selfies, wrapping their hands around his thick biceps and planting chaste kisses on his chiseled cheek. Eijiro, being the manly hero he is, always vehemently shuts down their advances. But you always wonder, if the right pretty woman were to come along and ask for a date – would he say yes?

Despite your anxieties, Red Riot is unwaveringly loyal, and would never entertain the thought of cheating. But that doesn’t stop the media from insinuating that he’s dating a new super model or Pro Hero every other week. You hate seeing him plastered on magazines in the grocery store, photoshopped next to a Top 20 hero with a nice rack and a thousand watt smile.

You think back to the argument last night, replaying it in your head like an old film reel.

You had stood in your tiny apartment kitchen, cleaning up after a delicious dinner the two of you had cooked together. Earlier that day, you had seen a tabloid at the mall showing off a particularly salacious photo of Red Riot after a particularly gruesome battle – half of his uniform had been torn off, revealing budging muscles and his dark happy trail that disappeared into his work pants. The image showed your boyfriend sitting on the edge of an ambulance as a pretty nurse smiled up at him and wrapped up a wound on his arm. The tabloid had a flashy title splashed across the cover “Red Riot Finds Love in the Field!?” You had begrudgingly purchased the magazine, bringing it home so you could show Kiri how ridiculous the media is getting, and how much it bothers you.

“Look at this, Eij. I have to see these all the time.” You toss the magazine in his direction and he catches it, smirking at the image on the cover.

“Wow, how did they even get that picture? I didn’t see any press at that fight.” He wonders, flipping through to the article. “’Chivalrous Hero Red Riot does it again – defeats the villain and seemingly gets the girl. Did we see sparks between the sturdy hero and the pretty EMT patching him up? Sources on the ground say he asked the emergency worker to dinner to thank her for her efforts.’ Wow, babe, you’re totally right. They’re absolutely making shit up about me. But hey – I do think I look pretty good in this pic, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow and holds the article up for you to see – you didn’t see this picture earlier. You had been too angry to look at the actual article. The image shows Eijiro standing strong in his hero gear – his arms are crossed and a confident smile sparkles across his handsome face. The picture turns you on a bit – you always love the way he has learned to own the spotlight, to look unbreakable in the face of danger. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so damn much – his confidence in tough situations. You know that it took a lot of work for him to get to this point – he used to second guess himself so much when he was younger. But Eijiro had put in the time and the work in building his self esteem and his hero career, and now he is able to save people with a grin on his face. You’re so damn proud of the strong, capable hero he’s become.

You push down your arousal and get back to the point. “Yeah, babe. You always look great. But look…the point is I don’t like the way that they are always trying to ship you with whatever woman is in your vicinity. It really hurts me.” You pause, looking away from the article and getting back to washing your dishes in the sink. You pass a wet dish to Eijiro which he dries wordlessly before placing it in your dish cabinet. “I want you to tell people about me – I want to be part of your life in every way possible. Babe…please.”

“No.” He says soundly, before rattling off all of the reasons why he doesn’t want your relationship public. The two of you continue washing and drying dishes together as you talk.

“But Katsuki and Izuku’s relationship is public! Kyoka and Denki! Shoto and YaMomo!” You say accusatorily, shutting off the faucet as you finish washing the final bowl. You shove it into his chest pointedly and stalk off to the living room. He dries the bowl and places it on the counter before following. You plop down on the couch and cross your arms. Eijiro is giving you a weird, stricken look. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Babe. I’m gonna say something that’s going to really piss you off. But I need you to understand if from my point of view. All of our couple friends…well, yeah they can be public about their relationships. Because they’re all Pro Heroes. And you’re…well, you know. You’re not. You’re a citizen who never worked to develop your quirk and you have no true combat experience. It’s different with all of them.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. “So what!?” You practically yell, hating to be reminded that you’re the only one in your boyfriend’s massive friend group who isn’t a Hero. “What does that matter? You think I can’t take care of myself!?”

“No, it’s not that. I just want you to think about the training we all have and the threats we face everyday. All of our friends can go toe to toe with the worst super villains known to society. So if some goon came after them looking for revenge…they would be able to deal with it. But babe…you’re not a Pro. I don’t want to get you involved in anything dangerous or scary. I need you to understand that and see if from my perspective.” He goes quiet, looking at you for an answer.

You’re furious. You can kind of understand where he’s coming from here, but whatever stretch of understanding you have is buried under pure undiluted rage.

“So your saying our relationship isn’t the same as all of your friend’s relationships? Ours isn’t worth celebrating and having public?”

“No, that’s not it at all! Babe. You are the most precious thing in my life and I do not want to put you in jeopardy. I need you to understand that.” He says pleadingly.

“I’m tired of seeing all those hot Pro Heros hanging on you and flirting with you on talk shows! I am sick of being quiet and watching other women fawn all over you like you’re some sort of man whore.”

“Y/N…you know that I don’t like getting that attention and that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to set boundaries with my fans and co-workers and I do feel like people are starting to get more respectful about touching me. Babe, I know you don’t like that and I’m really pushing back when women get close to me out in the field. Please believe me.”

You do. Of course you believe him. But if everyone just knew about your existence, you’re sure they would back the fuck away from your boyfriend.

“Eij. I believe you and I understand where you’re coming from. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m some kind of dirty secret. I’m just so angry right now, I don’t think I can talk about this anymore tonight. Just…leave.” You’re getting a stress headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes in an attempt to stave off the pain, but it just gets worse. You walk away, leaving him sitting on the couch and looking upset.

He calls out after you, but doesn’t follow. “Y/N! I just wish you really understood why I want to keep this private. Please.”

A few minutes later, you hear the door slam closed behind him. You don’t text or call each other for the rest of the night.

But none of that matters now. That stupid argument is nothing - not now that Eijiro’s baby is growing deep inside you. You shriek with excitement. You need to let your boyfriend know ASAP. He’s leaving on a big mission soon, and you need to make sure you catch him before he goes into his next strategy session with Katsuki, Sero and Izuku.

You scramble to swipe open your stupid screensaver and pull up your contacts. You hit Kirishima’s name and let it ring, bringing the phone to your ear with giddy excitement.

The phone rings and rings. Finally, you hear your boyfriend’s gravely voice pick up on the other end.

“…hello?” He sounds annoyed.

“Eijiro. I need you to come over to my apartment…like, ASAP.”

His voice instantly looses its cold edge. “What’s wrong? Y/N – is everything alright?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…I’m not sure! But I need you here right now. It’s urgent.”

“Is it about our fight last night? Because I’m still upset about it, but I am sorry if I minimized your feelings. I really can’t leave right now, we’re about to go and - ”

“Eij.” You cut him off midsentence. “I wouldn’t be asking you to leave work if it weren’t super important.”

He sighs, breathing out heavily into the phone receiver. “Okay. Give me 20 minutes.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up. It’s a mark of how upset he still is that he doesn’t end the call with his usual “Love you, sweetheart.” But you don’t care. You have a feeling that what you have to tell him will change everything.

The next 20 minutes are gonna feel like the longest of your life. You feel like you’re bursting at the seams with the news of your positive pregnancy test. You dance and twirl around the little apartment, using your frenetic energy to tidy. You clean the countertop and stove, flip through your junk mail and even fluff the pillows on your navy blue couch.

In a fit of inspiration, you scurry to your room and throw on your black silk dress. It’s sinfully tiny, with a slit running up the thigh. It’s by far Eijiro’s favorite outfit of yours. When he sees you in it, he can’t keep his hands off of you.

By the time that you hear his key turn in the apartment door, you’re fit to vibrate out of your skin you’re so excited. You watch him stumble in across the apartment threshold, looking world-weary and exhausted from a long day of mission strategy and patrolling.

“There’s my hero.” You say, running and throwing your arms around his thick, muscular neck. He catches you easily in his arms, his strong hands running down the smooth silk of your dress in disbelief.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” He mumbles into your shoulder. You laugh, giving him a squeeze before taking a step back from him.

“About that fight we had? It doesn’t matter right now. It’s irrelevant. I need you to forget about it.”

His eyes travel the length of your body, appreciating the way the dress hugs your curves. The slit up your thigh is of particular interest to his bright ruby eyes.

“Consider it forgotten.” He says, but he still sounds skeptical. “Now what was so urgent that you had me leave work in the middle of a strategy session? Bakugo almost ripped my head off when I told him I needed to come to your apartment.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. He’ll understand.”

“You sound awfully confident about that.” Eijiro raises an eyebrow, a frown plastered on his handsome face. “Must be something pretty important.”

“It is.” You grab his hand, dragging him across your tiny apartment and towards the bathroom. “Join me in the restroom.”

“Uh…okay.” Eijiro is flabbergasted, tossing his workbag to the ground as he follows after you. You pull him into your small blue tiled bathroom and push him down to sit on the toilet seat. Some news is best taken sitting down.

“Alright.” You reach into the medicine cabinet to grab the orange washcloth that you’ve stowed the pregnancy test in. “Close your eyes.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He sounds a mix of exhausted, tired and annoyed.

“Just go with it. I promise it’s worth the wait.” He sighs and obeys, closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the ceiling. You marvel for a moment at how – despite his manly himbo physique – he’s just so damn pretty. You hope your baby inherits the sharp curve of his chin and those glimmering ruby eyes.

You unwrap the pregnancy test from the washcloth and hold it out like an offering in front of Eijiro.

“Okay.” You take a shaky breath. “Open your eyes.”

Eijiro does as he’s told and stares blankly at you and the test for a moment.

“What’s this…?” He starts to say, and then it registers. The pregnancy test. The tiny plus sign.

 “OH MY GOD.” He leaps off of where he’s sitting on the toilet seat and scrambles to grab the plastic strip from your hands. He holds it close to his eyes and then far away again, taking in the magnitude of what it means. “Is this what I think it is!? When? How!?” He looks up at you in wonder over the test.

“Remember that camping trip with all of our friends up at the lake? We borrowed Bakugo’s car so we could go pick up some pizza from town, but we ended up pulling off the road and fucking in the back seat before we cleared the woods.” You smile, thinking back to the fated trip a few weeks ago.

Eijiro’s face is ghostly white as his eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God – we didn’t use a condom.” He sucks in a breath.

“I asked if you wanted to cum in my mouth but you were just begging me to let you cum inside. You kept calling me “sweet heart” and the “love of my life.” And it was so pathetic and sweet that I thought oh, what the hell! Maybe just this once! And now here we are.”

“Oh my God.” Eijiro takes a few steps forward and then sinks to his knees before you on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Even on kneeling, he’s just so tall. He brings his head down to rest on your belly. You tense up, unsure of what to say. Everything is still and quiet, and your nerves are on edge.

Finally, Eijiro looks up at you, his wide ruby eyes glimmering with tears. A shaky grin spreads across his face. “Babe…I’m so happy.”  He places a kiss to your stomach before disentangling himself. He gets back to his feet and pulls you back into his arms. “I’m sorry for that bullshit argument. It seems so silly now.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “I just…” You hear him choke back a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I love you so much. I can’t even tell you what this means to me…I always pictured us having kids someday, but it always seemed like such a distant future thing. And now here we are. Sure, it’s unplanned and there’s a lot we need to figure out. But God, I feel so lucky.”

This brings tears to your eyes as well. You hug him back, breathing in his scent deeply. He smells like cinnamon – you’re sure he grabbed one of his favorite cinnamon donut snacks on the walk over from his agency. You snuggle into his arms and stifle back come joyful crying.

“We’re going to have the most beautiful family, Eij.” You say into his thick chest.

“Yes, we are. I bet the baby will have your beautiful eyes, and that glowing smile.” He runs his hand over your back soothingly, reaching across you to gingerly place the pregnancy test on the sink counter.

“I hope it looks like you – shark teeth and all. Can you imagine? Red Riot, Jr.” You laugh. “You’ll have a little mini-Kiri running around.” You both grin at the image. “I should start calling you Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy.”

This makes Eijiro laugh. “Hey I like that! But wow, Y/N. Just wow.”

He sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom and into your clean living room.

“We have so much to talk though. Hell, I should call out of that mission this week. We need to figure a ton out. Whose apartment do we want to move into – or should we get a new place together? We should do some financial planning, figure out childcare. What’s your job’s maternity leave policy look like? Shit, we’ll need to find a doula. Someone at the agency recommended having a doula. And at what point do we tell our friends? Our parents? Babe, you’ll need to build us one of your signature spreadsheets or planners or whatever, I - ”

“Shhh, Kiri.” You put a finger to his lips. “Babe, there’s plenty of time for all of that. Just let it sink in for a minute.” You’re wrapped up in his arms as he caries you across the room, holding you up like it’s nothing. Your Kirishima is such a strong hero, and you feel a fierce flame of pride flare up in your chest – this man is all yours.

You’re both silent for a moment, taking it all in. A baby. The two of you made a baby. It’s an incredible, almost unfathomable thought.

After a moment or two of quiet, Eijiro looks up at you mischievously. “So yeah, we can figure out all the financial and medical stuff later…but in terms of fuckin’…does this mean 9 months of unlimited cream pies?”

You shriek in surprise.

“OH MY GOD KIRI THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW!?” You cry out, your voice echoing through the apartment as you bat at him playfully, cackling. He leans down so he can capture your lips in a searing kiss. Oh, God. Yeah – he’s being serious. He breaks the kiss and puts you down on the couch lightly so that you’re sitting up and he drops to his knees before you.

“I think we should celebrate, baby.” He slides his hands up under your tiny silk dress, causing the fabric to gather at the tops of your thighs. “Ah, fuck you’re gorgeous.” He runs his fingers across your legs, leaving goose bumps peppering your skin. He peaks beneath your dress to see cute striped panties underneath. A hunger sparks in his eyes – his shark-toothed grin is ravenous, roguish.

He spreads your legs and scoots himself in between them, leaning forward to press a kiss against your clothed pussy. He brings up his hand and runs it across your panties, lightly circling your clit before tracing down, down, down.

“You getting’ wet for me, babe?” He whispers hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of your panties.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You tease. You’re rewarded with a light pinch to your clit that causes you to yelp in surprise. “Kiri!” He chuckles, using his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room.

“So wet for me, sweet heart.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. He takes your forefinger and brings it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then moves your hand to your pussy and encourages you to pleasure yourself. “Show me how my baby likes it.”

You moan as you touch yourself, playing with your clit and dipping your fingers shallowly at the entrance of your pussy. Eijiro gets to his feet and takes off his hero costume, dropping his pants and underwear to the ground and freeing his hardening cock.

“You’re putting on quite a show, baby.” He says, leaning forward to slip the dress’s spaghetti straps off your shoulders. “Now show me those pretty tits.” He pushes the fabric of the dress down, exposing your chest. Your nipples perk up the instant the air hits them. He pinches your nipples lightly and then kneads your breasts a bit, one in each hand. The dress is now scrunched across your middle, most of you exposed to Kirishima’s greedy eyes. He takes a step back so that he can begin to stroke his cock as he watches you go to work on your pussy. You bite your lip and look away, almost embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze.

“You warmed up a little, baby?” He asks, leaning forward to plant his arms against the couch with you wedged helplessly in between. He kisses you again, roughly, before peppering kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. He stops to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you cry out from the pleasure of it.

“Eij!”

He brings his body forward, guiding his cock towards your waiting pussy. You gasp as he smooths his thick member across your delicate, dripping entrance. “You make the prettiest sounds.” He coos, continuing to flex his hips to that you feel his length move against you.

You think he’s about to push inside when he pauses, his cockhead twitching against your entrance delightfully. “Can we do it now, though? Will it hurt the baby?” He says, concern tinting his husky voice.

“I did some research – yeah, we’re fine. Keep going.” You groan out, scooting your hips forward and trying to coax him inside.

“So impatient for me to cum inside you again, ain’t ya?” Eijiro taunts, rubbing his cock back and forth against your vulva. “You sure there’s room for one more in there?”

“God yes. Just fuck me already, Kiri!” You pout, straining to get closer to him.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says before easing into you. Despite your assurance that the baby would be fine, he still takes extra care as he slides into place. He pauses to let you adjust to his size, but after a moment or two you’re off to the races.

“Jeez, babe…I forgot how damn good it feels to fuck your pussy raw. I can feel you, so tight around me. Fuckkkk.” He takes it slow, shifting his hips softly so that you can feel every inch of his hard cock as it slips and slides within you. You relax into it, your cunt stretching to slowly to accommodate his size. After all these years together, you know each other so well that fucking feels like bliss. You can just relax into it and let him take the lead.

After a few moments of gentle fucking to let you get comfortable, he makes sure you have a secure hold on him. He scoops you up and, cock still lodged deep within you, he gets to his feet. This is one of the things you love about your big, himbo boyfriend – he’s strong enough to be able to fuck you in any position and he can lift you up with absolutely zero effort. His palms flatten under your ass cheeks so he can bounce you up and down and you mewl, leaning your face into his hard chest. Your legs are wrapped around his thick body. He’s so muscular and wide that you have trouble keeping steady. It feels so incredibly good to have him intertwined with you like this, you have to remind yourself to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You like that baby?” He gasps between thrusts. “You like it when I stand and deliver?”

“Oh God yes. Keep on deliverin’.” You slur, enjoying every sensation. He chuckles and obliges, supporting all of your weight in his hands as he continues to move. After a few minutes of this, you can tell he’s getting close by the way he starts squeezing your ass and speaking nonsense.

“You’re my girl, you know that? My absolute number one perfect babe.” His breath hitches as his cock almost slides out completely but he manages to guide it back into you without incident.

“Sit down, Kiri. I wanna ride you.” You whine, kissing his sweat covered collarbone.

“Alright, babe. Whatever you want.” He turns and slowly brings you both down to the couch. You know he’s got a fuck ton of stamina from being a Pro Hero, but standing and fucking has definitely caused him to work up a sweat. You can see that he’s grateful to be back on the couch. He leans back and his back sinks into the comfy backrest of the sofa, and he brings his hands up from your ass to rest on your hips.

“Go on, baby.” He coaches. “Show me how good you are at riding this fat cock.”

You slide your legs down and settle so that you’re straddling him, and bring your hands low to rest on his strong, beefy chest. You lock eyes with him as you slowly raise your hips, bringing yourself up high enough so that his cock is barely inside of you. He watches you with eyes so full of love and attention that it almost takes your breath away. You circle your hips in the air, the head of his cock rolling around your folds before you slam back down on his member, sheathing him in one fowl swoop.

“Damn. Fuck. Y/N.” He throws his head back in ecstasy and grips your hips so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. “Christ you treat me so well.”

You continue to ride him at a near brutal pace. His breaths become shallow as he chases his high, sure to burst at any moment.

“Fuck! Wait – hold on.” He squeezes your hips and you come to a stop, puzzled. He bites his lip as he glances down between you at your stomach. “I wanna make this last. We’re celebrating, after all.”

You grin. “What do you have in mind, Eij?”

“Climb off of me and come sit on my face. Let me eat you out for a while.” He smiles at you, reaching out with his thumb to smooth a bead of sweat off your brow.

“You sure?

“The way I see it, once the baby starts growing it might get harder for you to climb on top of me. So let’s clock as much face fucking time for you as we can before that happens.” He says eagerly, taking a few moments to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Eij…you’re such a sweetie pie.” You tweak his nose as you move to get off his dick. He watches you rise up off of his cock, and he moans a little at the loss of contact as he slides out of your pussy.

“Don’t worry.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll be back in there before you know it.”

He smiles as he helps you to your feet. “I know, its just feels so damn good to be inside you without a condom, anytime I have to pull out its torture. I keep forgetting that we can do this all the time now.” He lays down across the couch and gets comfortable, placing a pillow beneath his shoulder blades. “Alright, sweetheart. Come up and take a seat.”

Your clit absolutely throbs in anticipation as you climb up on top of him, straddling his face in a position that’s become so familiar. He wraps his arms around your legs and guides you down, swiping his tongue across your pussy with practiced skill.

“Oh, God, Kiri…” You groan, relaxing into it. He drags his tongue across your clit and down to your core, gripping your legs tightly to hold you in place as he takes you apart one lick at a time. You grind your hips back and forth lightly, shimmying against him in a move that probably looks more silly than pornographic. You don’t care, though – it gets the job done. You let him bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth alone, gasping as he sucks on your sensitive clit for what feels like hours. When your legs start to shake, it’s a surefire sign that you’re about to tip over the edge.

“Babeee.” You whine as you get close. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

Eijiro stops what he’s doing and says in a muffled voice “You’re so impatient, sweetheart.” You grind against his face in reply, and he laughs. He helps you climb off of him, your legs still shaky and uncoordinated.

You let yourself rest for a moment, taking deep, steadying breaths. You look up at your hero - his gelled up hair is now disheveled and out of place. He’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling at you. “Eating you out is one of my favorite hobbies, babe.”

You giggle. “Is it nice to be having sex while everyone else is at work?” You ask, laughing as he easily flips you over onto your belly.

“It is a nice break from a stressful job, yeah.” Eijiro gets behind you, finally pulling the dress down and off your body so that it’s no longer hiked up in a heap around your middle. He lays it delicately on the back of the couch. “Can’t have anything happening to my favorite outfit.” He explains as he smooths out the fabric.

He puts a large hand on your back and slides it up towards your shoulder blades, adding some slight pressure to encourage you to get down on your elbows. He hauls your ass up towards him and settles himself behind you.

“You ready?” He asks, sliding his cock along your folds, using his split and your slick as lube.

“Y-yeah.” You breathe out, body buzzing with anticipation. “Go for it.”

He glides back into you, doggy style. This is your favorite position, as it allows his big cock to hit just the right spot deep inside you. Once again, Eijiro takes it slow. He braces one hand on your hips, the other on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide against your belly, protective. You know he’s distracted – half of his thoughts are no doubt on the baby and all that it means for the two of you.

He makes love to you like this for quite a while - enjoying the feel of your bare pussy around his cock, reveling in every sigh and moan he can goad from your pretty mouth.

“Kiriii.” You whine, fed up with this slow and easy pace. “Faster, baby.”

He smirks down at you, releasing your hip for a moment so he can deliver a light smack to your ass. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you with practiced skill. He maneuvers his hips in a way that allows him to go deep, concentrating all of his energy on one singular point. When the tip of his cock hits your cervix, you splutter out endless praise.

“Fuck, yes Eij. Fuck fuck fuck, keep going.”

And he does – he hits the same delicious spot over and over and over. You’re overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all, tears coming to your eyes as you feel heat start to pool in your belly. Your legs are shaking beneath you, and you know that the only reason you’re still able to stay in this position is because Kirishima’s strong arms are holding you in place.

“You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?” Eijiro hisses between clenched teeth, concentrating on keeping his pace consistent as he pistons his dick into you. “You look so pretty when you’re all riled up and desperate for my cock like this.”

“Ah – Eij!” You cry out as your pussy flutters around him, you cum hard and fast. Stars dance behind your eyes as your body squeezes and tries to milk Eijiro’s cock.

“Woah – fuck  babe!” He cries out in surprise, not expecting such a forceful orgasm from you. Your pussy feels like absolute heaven around him, and the way your walls squeeze and pull at him causes him to lose himself. He cries out when he cums, ropes of hot, sticky sperm shooting deep inside you. If you weren’t already pregnant, this particular fucking certainly would have given you a run for your money.

“Fuck babe. I’m gonna fuck another baby into you.”  He’s groaning nonsense as he rides out his orgasm, head thrown back and hands gripping you desperately. The overstimulation of it all has you feeling full, complete.

With a few final pumps, he’s spent. He slowly pulls out of you, marveling at the gooey creampie he’s left in his wake.

“Babe…this is insanely hot.” He says, bringing a finger up to push his seed back inside of you. You groan at the contact, overstimulated from cumming so damn hard.

“Kiri stoppp, I need a minute.” You collapse into the couch, rolling over onto your back and shuddering as you try to catch your breath. Eijiro joins you, leaning back into the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling in ecstasy.

“We should fuck like that all the time.” He says, eyes sliding closed with exhaustion. Between last night’s fight, today’s work, and this afternoon’s physical activity – he’s spent. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too, Eij.” You coo, you feel yourself slipping towards sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet.” You feel the couch cushions rise up around you as Eijiro gets up and onto his feet. “We gotta clean you up first.”

You hear the floorboards creak as he pads his way back to your tiny bathroom. Distantly, you hear him turn the faucets of your tub as he starts to draw a bath. You let yourself drift off for a few moments, content with your lot in life. You’ve got the best boyfriend in the world, and now you get to have his child. What could be better? You doze.

You startle awake when you feel Eijiro lift you off the couch and into his arms. You rest your head against his bare chest and hear his heartbeat against the shell of your ear. The steady rhythm is music to your ears, and you snuggle into him as much as you can. You hear him chuckle as he carries you off towards the bathroom.

“Babe…I think that maybe we should think about telling the press about us. What with the baby and all…I want to keep you safe, but I don’t want people to think that I just knocked you up with a secret love child or something. Not very manly.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “And as for the safety part…maybe I can train you up a bit, show you ways to use your quirk to defend yourself. I can’t always be around to protect you, but you’re strong. And I know you’re capable of protecting yourself.”

These words jolt you fully awake. “You mean that, Eijiro?” Then you add teasingly: “Being my Baby Daddy changed your mind?” Eijiro chuckles at this new title in a way that tells you he’s elated to be your “baby daddy.”

“Of course I mean it, babe. If anyone can figure all of this shit out, it’s the two of us. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” You say, your brain whirring to process all that he’s said. “But I don’t mind keeping our private life private. This baby. This family – it’s ours, and no one else’s. Fuck what the public thinks.”

“I guess we have a lot to talk about.”  He says, finally coming to a stop in the steamy bathroom. “But we don’t need to figure it all out right this moment.”

You look up at his strong, handsome face and bring a hand up to trace his jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, Eij.” He blushes at the compliment, flustered. You know he loves being called things like “manly” and “handsome,” but he has a weak spot for softer compliments as well. Your himbo boyfriend loves to be admired softly, loves your gentle praise. “You’re so sweet and good to me.”

“Heh, does this mean that you’re gonna change your phone background back to a pic of me instead of John Wick?” Eijiro leans down to plant a kiss on your temple.

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. If it would make ya happy.”

“It would.” He kisses you again. “You ready for a bath, sweetheart? I can do most of the work if you’re too tired.” You nod at him, eyes half lidded. You’re so damn sleepy. You feel like you just had a whole body workout and then some.

Slowly, sweetly, Eijiro lowers you into the bathtub. He moves slowly, letting you get used to the water as you sink down into it. The temperature is perfect – not too cool, not too scathingly hot. Eijiro knows you so well, down to your perfect water temperature. Your bum hits the bottom of the tub and you sit up, surprised at the mountains of bubbles towering around your head.

“I got a little carried away with the bubble bath mix.” He says, cupping some of the frothy suds in his hands and blowing them across the bathroom. You look at him lovingly – he’s going to make such a good dad.

You look up at him, grinning. You blow some bubbles in his direction before gesturing for him to join you.

“Get in here, Eij. There’s plenty of room for a family of three.”

[peachylynnie]

garlic

word count: 1.4k

synopsis: in which sylus feeds you too much garlic.

contains: sylus x reader (doesn't have to be mc, gender neutral), an obscene amount of garlic (slight crack fic), mentions of cooking, eating, and love of food, suggestive at the end, and cussing.

a/n: i was rewatching wgm the other day and the male star did this to the female star. couldn't help but feel inspired to write this for sylus since he would totally tease us. do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs and comments always appreciated :)

you love sylus' cooking. even before you started dating, you always thought his cooking was immaculate—so immaculate you can't help but wonder why he even had a private chef. rich people shenanigans, you like to conclude. you also wonder if rich people put a lot of garlic in their food. because there are a shit ton of garlic slices on the linguine pasta sylus just served you.

by no means are you a picky eater. heck, you love garlic. it's a blessing to humankind. garlic bread, fried rice, pesto, you name it. so many foods have garlic in them, and you enjoy all of them. but this? this was way too much.

sylus raises a brow as he sits next to you, wondering why you haven't picked up your fork yet. "something wrong, sweetie?"

"what's with the garlic, sylus?" you turn to face him, leaning back in the leather high chair.

he looks at your plate, then back at you. "is there something wrong with the garlic?" picking up his own fork, he goes to inspect your food. you stop him by holding his wrist.

"no," you shake your head, laughing a little. "it's just... this is a LOT of garlic." you nudge your head towards the incredibly noticeable pile of garlic slices. "did the tutorial really call for this much?"

sylus chuckles, returning to his own plate. meticulously, he twirls the pasta with his fork, leaving you to admire his sturdy forearms. not only do you love sylus' cooking, but you also love WHEN he cooks. why? because this absolute godsend, silver-haired, ruby-eyed, strong-nosed, supple-lipped, and deep-voiced of a man rolls up his sleeves when he cooks. his veins protrude and his muscles flex whenever he chops some vegetables with a knife. you don't pity the buttons that hold on for dear life to keep his sleeves together whenever he maneuvers a pan. resting an elbow on the kitchen island, you set your head on your hand to admire the current view.

you're taken aback when sylus holds up his fork to your mouth. normally, you would gush at such an action. the ruthless and relentless head of onychinus, offering YOU the first bite of HIS food. oh, you would happily accept, eager to taste absolute heaven in your mouth because sylus always makes great food. but, this time, you frown, noticing the mini TOWER of garlic slices on top of the noodles wrapped around his fork.

"i didn't take you for a picky eater, sweetie." sylus teases as he tilts his head. your jaw drops, flabbergasted by such an accusation. not that there's anything wrong with being a picky eater; it's just that sylus should know you by now. he's cooked for you plenty of times before. he's seen you eat plenty of times before. he should know by now you generally enjoy most food, and it takes a lot for you to even hesitate to pick up a utensil.

"i'm not picky," you cross your arms, a slight pout forming on your lips. "there's just too much garlic."

"there's no such thing as too much garlic," sylus quips. as if to further prove his point, he lifts the fork closer to your mouth. you begrudgingly accept, not without giving him a look, of course, because only you would accept a mouthful of garlic offered by sylus himself.

it's not necessarily bad. that's the first thought you have when you close your mouth. except you immediately change your mind after you bite down. holy shit, it's just straight garlic. you grimace, immediately uncrossing your arms to cover your mouth. you can't even taste the linguine. groaning, you try not to spit out the food. no matter how bad a dish may be, you wholeheartedly believe it's rude to spit it out in front of the person who made it. furthermore, this was sylus we're talking about; you're fricking boyfriend. you scrunch your shoulders as you painfully swallow, instantly reaching over the counter for a glass of water. after you relieve your mouth of garlic hell (it didn't help at all), you face sylus, glaring at him with all your might.

"that's too much garlic!" you snap, using one hand to slap sylus' shoulder and another to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the smell. trying to ignore sylus' snickers, you drink more water. this motherfucker dares to laugh at your agony. you swear the next time he calls you over for some parmesan garlic linguine, you're going to tell him to shove a garlic braid up his ass.

"oh come on, sweetie," sylus jests as he twirls some more noodles with his fork before offering them to you again. "it can't be that bad."

you look at him with wide eyes. there's no way he's serious right now. "why don't YOU try then?"

"gladly," sylus says smugly. he takes a bite and lets out an obnoxious "mmm!" you scoff when he goes back for a second bite, unable to believe the audacity he has.

"there's no way it tastes that good," you say as you jerk your head away, determined to stay mad at him. "you just want to flatter your cooking."

"you're missing out," sylus says nonchalantly as he takes another bite. "besides, garlic is good for your health. it can provide a lot of strength. in fact, laborers were fed garlic back then, so they could have enough stamina. "

you roll your eyes. of course, he brings health into this. not that there's nothing wrong with it. you actually admire how much sylus takes care of himself. he's quite the competent man. but you know what he's doing. he's making fun of you. your eyes can't help but twitch as you look down at your plate. good for your health, my ass. no way an entire plate (sylus has massive plates by the way) topped with heaps of garlic is good for anyone. not even five serving spoons can rid your plate of its garlic slices.

suddenly, you get an idea.

"hey, sylus," you say as you reach over the counter for the serving spoon he used earlier to serve your plate. "since you like your linguine soooo much, mind if i feed you?"

sylus doesn't look up from his plate, clearly too occupied with his own making. "sure, sweetie."

you giggle, setting the spoon against the edge of your plate before scraping only the garlic slices onto it. given how much garlic there was, it doesn't take long for you to fill the giant spoon with it—garlic and garlic only.

"don't do that."

"don't do what?" you don't stop scraping.

"that," sylus answers as he warily eyes the spoon your hand is now holding up to his face. that was, indeed, too much garlic.

"come onnnn," it's your turn to tease. "there's no such thing as too much garlic, right? besides, it's good for your health. what good is the head of onychinus if he doesn't have enough stamina?"

"i have plenty of stamina," sylus insists. "and that," he juts his chin towards the spoon, "is too much stamina."

you snort as you nudge the spoon closer, ignoring him entirely. "say ah! eat and gain lots of stamina! you need it!" you chirp as you lift your free hand and extend it underneath the spoon, hoping to catch any stray slices.

sylus' eyes flicker from the spoon to your face. he leans in, acting as if he's going to listen to you. though, not before asking, "where will i use all this stamina? will you use it with me?"

you choke, immediately retracting the spoon. "what?!" you dump all of the garlic back onto the plate, avoiding the amused look on sylus' face and also the imagery of exciting... stamina-related activities involving him. "pervert," you grumble, a rosy hue appearing on your cheeks.

"i was talking about training, sweetie," he smirks.

no fucking way. you gape at him, not believing a single word.

sylus stifles a laugh, enjoying the hilarious expression on your face. look at you, so cutely flustered over the idea of taking your relationship to the next level. yes, he was talking about whatever was going on in that head of yours. no, he wasn't talking about training. but hiding such a fact was worth it, given your embarrassed state. wanting to admire your adorable face some more, sylus grips your chin before tilting it up.

"although, i'm not against what you have in mind, sweetie."

[it-came-from-an-orchard]

Wonderland! Bunnydoll

It's secret to nobody that @endomentendo Wonderland AU has been spreading the same way an invasive root does in a garden (Don't tell Queenie) What some might NOT know, is that the Bunnydollers have successfully bullied them with love and pretty art to make the ship part of their canon Heck, Ragatha's mood allignement change! I call that a major victory!

So to commemorate the change and because @kookies2000 has infected half of the burrow with the WonderBug, I present thee with a small little something.

Its not very good but I had fun. And I think that all Wonderland its about

Leaves fall, birds chirp.

Twigs snap, Branches shake.

The grass crumples, dirt and sand raises in the air. 

The sounds of idle laughter chimes in, carried by the hollow whistle of the wind. Empty steps mark the ground.

The sensible response is to shake your head, turn around, and go back from wherever you came from. 

The sensible and logical thought that pricks at the mind and tells you ‘There’s nobody there’. 

So stupid and wrong. 

Out of all the creatures in the forest to find, those that find you first are probably some of the worst, and by the very nature of their bodies, this one is the most dangerous of all, as they dont get found out if they don't wish to be. 

The laughter echoes around, and if you were to close your eyes— Well, you would be really stupid, because nobody should do that in a forest. Who knows where you could trip going around blind like that? 

But if despite better judgment, you still close your eyes, or at least, the one working eye, it's almost like if windchimes were all around the forest.

Such a pretty laugh.

How can people say Chesires are bad when they laugh like that? 

“Jax! I’m not supposed to wonder this deep in, you know that!” Little Pretty Red Locks and a smile, you are not angry or mad, yet you try “At least tell me what are we looking for!”

The empty, dusty steps wave off the dirt path, leaving purple prints instead as they go up the trunk of a mighty tree

“Seriously? I have to climb? In this dress?” Only mad people talk to themselves, so this really isn’t that weird of a sight, that is, if there was anyone else with Pretty Red Locks and a smile. “Mother is gonna be upset at me if I return to the party with tears on my dress…!” 

She could have chosen not to climb, stay down on the ground, but then the enchanting laughter knew she wouldn’t. Too many a year had passed, at least he thought so, since they first started to play this game. A Cat and a Mouse. 

Why would a little mouse be in pursuit of a cat, you ask? Probably to ask for some milk, or to share a cookie. 

But there is no cat or a mouse in sight, just Pretty Red Locks and a smile. 

Climbing trees is easy, it barely takes a breeze, yet the doll struggles getting around the branches, silly girl, your dress is on the way, Why did you ever think that was appropriate clothing to go tree climbing? Mad idea, indeed. 

Leaves fall, branches creak, and the laughter is no more. A low hum bouncing around the canopies of the trees. A nameless tune that has no lyrics, and even when it does, their meaning is meaningless. Still, Pretty Red Locks tries to sing it, no matter how many times she gets it wrong. What a crazy thing to try

“Are we there yet?” She huffs and puffs the lack of air in her lungs, settling in a big sturdy branch. Yeah, they were there. That’s as good as it could get “I know I’m not a kid anymore, but you could try and give me a hand still!”

“Now, why would I do that?” The voice of nobody speaks, much mirth and much mischief in the way they sound. Just like the laughter from before “You got yourself up here without my help! If you couldn’t, why try?” 

“You told me to follow you, then disappeared and got me here!” Still airless, still amused. Are you not afraid of being this high up? 

“If I disappeared, you got yourself here” Fight a disembodied voice about semantics, if you weren’t mad before, you will be after.

“Well, We’re here-- Or *I* am here now. So what's the surprise?” 

“What surprise?” 

“I’m not going to start that with you”

“Start what?” 

Laughter again, but it's not the voice of the nobody, Pretty Red Locks laughs. 

It’s a pretty laugh.

“The view is nice from up here” Again talking to herself, because there was no other voice to answer her “You always like to be somewhere high, don’t you?” Talking to oneself means nobody answers you, but Pretty Red Locks and a smile didn’t seem to be bothered by that, her lips splayed in a wide smile for the empty space right beside her on the branch “I guess it's part of your nature”

The hollow wind carries the small hum of a melody. Down below littles colorful dots dance around unhearable music. It wouldn’t be long now until they realized the missing person among them.

“Having fun on your regular birthday?��� The voice of nobody spoke, though it was lacking a bit of that usual charm. Wonder where it had gone

“What other types of birthdays are there?” The doll only got silence as a response, right, she was answering a question with another question “Yes, it’s very fun. I’m glad you came by”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the end of the world~!” 

Swinging her legs over the void of the fall, the doll swallowed the rest of the questions she wanted to ask, her conversation partner wasn’t in a responsive mood and talking to herself wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, even if she did it more often than most

“I’m gonna give you your gift now” The disembodied voice spoke and the doll felt her insides tickle as if full of loose flower petals

“Does that mean I can see you n-” Ragatha wanted to say something dumb, because she was about to answer a statement with a question. A dumb and also rude thing to do

Thankfully, she was saved from the embarrassment by a pressure over her mouth. Her lips. It felt… Warm. slightly moist, a bit fuzzy. 

Such an odd feeling

Not only was her mouth covered by something, Ragatha blinked once and she was sure something was holding the sides of her arms. It was firm yet kind, the way she always felt when dancing atop the roof of the castle, or balancing over the railing of the balconies or now, over at the top of the trees. 

She pursed her lips and that pressure moved. Ragatha realized now that she couldn’t quite breath with this strange block against her mouth, but just before she could start to worry about running out of air, the pressure left her mouth. The one around her arms remained.

Blinking once, twice. Ragatha notices her eyesight worsening. Just a second ago she could see the party below with perfect clarity, now everything seems to be warped and fuzzy. Like trying to see through an empty glass.

Something invisible in between. 

“Jax?” She called to the nothing around her. “Did you do something just now?” 

Pretty Red Locks got no answer from the empty air around her. She blinked again, the fuzziness went away, and so did the hold around her. 

She missed it already. 

The familiar humming of a distant tune came back, and while the sound bounced around, Ragatha’s gaze stood firmly ahead. The emptiness in front of her slowly filling up from the bottom up, stripes of purple and dark blue hues swirling, tangling and knotting among themselves. Forming limbs, a torso, a tail, ears and finally. 

Two big yellow eyes and a smile. 

“Happy regular birthday, Ragatha” The voice of nobody came from the mouth of this funny looking guy, but Ragatha already knew that. She have known this funny looking man for a long time now

“Happy not-birthday, Jax” She returned the gesture, smiling, not as widely but almost so as the man floating over nothing in front of her. 

“Oh! You remembered! How thoughtful!” The colourful man squinted his eyes slightly as his smile broadened even more, making most of his face “Anyway, Ready to go back?” He extended an open, gloved palm to the pretty doll with red locks and a smile, he was, admittedly, a bit surprised that she didn’t immediately take it.

“Jax, My aunt will freak out if she sees me ‘Floating’ down back to the party!” “Not let anyone see you, got ya!” Jax reached out and claimed Ragatha by the arm to himself, pulling her with him into the nothing void. 

Most people would freak out, scream, cry. To be so carelessly thrown into no ground at all, especially at such a height. 

Ragatha just giggled, barely holding on to Jax as they took step after step, moving slowly, closer to the ground. 

“Aren’t ya afraid to fall?” Jax held got tighter to her and she let go even more, slightly annoying. She should be holding onto him as if her life depended on it. What, was she mad or something?

“Are you going to let me fall?” Pretty Red Locks and the gall you had, trusting your life to a cheshire. 

“Not unless it’s funny” 

They eventually made it back to the ground and Jax lost himself in a puff of color. But Ragatha knew him to be close by. Call it a ‘Womanly intuition’. She just had a gift for this sort of thing. 

In truth, watching the scenery from up high and float back down with Jax was something she was really used to, she could quite understand what about that was supposed to be her gift. 

That feeling she got around her lips though…

She hoped she could ask Jax about it the next time they got to meet for tea. 

She enjoyed it very much

If only a feeling such as that one had a name.

[daryldixonswoman]

MDNI

Fluff-ugh I really need a Daryl hug!

You & Daryl were on one of your countless foraging/scavenging trips far from the comfort of your camp, your people. It had been a long day & you both had full backpacks. It had been a fruitful day, luck was on your side it seemed.

The sun was beginning to set & before long it would be nightfall. Luckily Daryl knew these woods & knew there was a cabin not too far from you. He lead the way, keeping a watchful eye out. You were thankful your man was so capable & observant as you felt your eyes grow heavy. You followed closely by, you'd follow him anywhere, into flames if it came to that as you knew if you were both together you'd always be safe.

Daryl opens the cabin door, slowly creeping in, keeping his trusty crossbow up. The cabin was clear as he ushered you in. You took a deep breath, a sigh of relief as you set your backpack down on the dusty, wooden floor. It was a simple cabin, an armchair in the corner facing a fireplace. A rickety table to the side that had a couple of pots and pans on, a makeshift kitchen you supposed. Daryl had already secured the door behind you with some sturdy cable and made his way to the window, peaking slightly before letting the ragged curtain fall back into place.

"We should be okay t'night" he reassured you as he walked to the fireplace.

You offer him a tired smile, thanking him silently. Words weren't always needed and it worked perfectly for the both of you. Daryl managed to ignite a small fire, it wasn't too cold in the cabin but it certainly felt cozier. Daryl always thinking of your comfort. You couldn't help but smile to yourself, thinking, knowing how awful the world had gotten but thanking your lucky stars you had met the love of your life. You'd trade a million lifetimes if it meant you could spend one with him. Daryl got back up from the fireplace after prodding it a couple of times to make sure the soft glow would stay lit. Walking towards you he noticed how tired you were, a pang of sadness crossing his face before he turned into practical mode again. Looking around the cabin you both notice a stained bed in the corner covered with filthy blankets. You grimaced, no matter how bad things had gotten you were not willing to sleep on that. The only other option being the armchair.

"I'll take the floor" Daryl states, ever selfless

You shake your head instantly. You knew Daryl was used to sleeping on the floor, heck he used to sleep under the stars most nights even before the apocalypse. But there was an armchair and you were determined to give him some comfort too. You look at Daryl before looking at the armchair and looking back. Daryl knew what you were saying, a small, half smile on his face. He takes heavy steps towards the armchair before practically falling into the armchair with a loud thud. You gave a soft giggle as you looked at your tired man, your hero. Taking steps towards his open arms you crawl onto his lap, facing him. You wrap your arms around his waist, sinking into his broad chest, hearing his heartbeat. It was your favourite sound in the world, it meant Daryl was alive. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you closer into him before placing a kiss to your head. Feeling yourself drift off into the safety of his embrace you place a soft kiss over his heart.

"Night brave man" you say softly

"Night sweet girl" Daryl says with a soft gruff as you both fall into a slumber

[howlingday]

Whitley's ARC Problem

Whitley: No, no, architect Faunus! It's all wrong!

Whitley: The muscles on the Jaune statue biceps need to be at least three times as big! Really capture his superiority!

Worker: Sir, my name is Ted, and I honestly can't make these muscles any bigger without compromising the infrastructure of New Mantle.

Whitley: Yes, yes, Moseby, I understand that, but if it's a choice between the children having a roof over their heads or my best friend in the entire world's statue being 100% accurate, well then sacrifices must be made!

Worker: Cool. Awesome. I guess my little girl is sleeping in the cold, then.

Whitley: Excellent!

Ruby: Whitley, um, honey? Can we talk?

Whitley: Ah! Ruby! My beautiful wife and the love of my life! What can I do for you, my beloved?

Ruby: Whitley... You know how you saying stuff like that makes me feel...

Ruby: But, actually, I need to talk to you about something. Is that okay?

Whitley: Of course it is! Communication is the cornerstone to any good and healthy relationship, regardless of it being professional or romantic! No relationship can survive without a healthy amount of communication!

Whitley: Isn't that right, Rikki?

Worker: Fuck you, sir!

Whitley: Yeah, he loves me... So, what is it you wanted to talk about?

Ruby: Well, it's... It's about Jaune.

Whitley: OH! You had me at Jaune, Ruby~! Of course we can talk about him! After all, he is the brave and incredible hero that I am proud to call my best friend~! Atop his heroic deeds and selfless personality, he also has those stunning looks that make men and women swoon~! Furhtermore-

Ruby: Yeah, that. That's what I wanted to talk about. The way you talk about Jaune is really... specific.

Whitley: Specific in what regard? You mean specifically the truth because he's so handsome and amazing~?

Ruby: No, like you're specifically talking about him to people like you're... Well.... Kinda gay for him?

Whitley: Of course I'm gay for him~!

Ruby: WHAT?!

Whitley: YES~! I'm always happy when he's around, and thinking about him simply makes me want to cheer up just so I can see him smile!

Ruby: I... I didn't think you would just- Oh! No, no, no! Whitley, I don't mean the dictionary definition of gay.

Whitley: I beg your pardon? What else could you mean then?

Ruby: I mean you act really... homosexual around him.

Whitley: WHAT?! Whatever would give you THAT impression?!

Ruby: Well, there's the way you talk about his body...

Whitley: You mean his perfect and god-like body you'd be a fool not to fall in love with and want to sleep next to? I fail to see how that makes me gay!

Ruby: Okay, then what about how you talk about his personality?

Whitley: Absolutely ridiculous! How does me truthfully stating that Jaune is masculine perfection incarnate from his strength to stand against threats to his positive and uplifting charisma to be kind to everyone to his adorable fascination with and love of cinema to even his sexy confidence in whatever he does come across as GAY?!

Ruby: Whitley... You're literally building a statue of Jaune, SHIRTLESS WITH YOU HUGGING HIM, in the middle of the front yard driveway! Heck, you moved your grandpa's statue away from there just to put it there!

Whitley: Well, yes, but it absolutely belongs up there! It's a commemoration of the time Jaune, removed of his armor, allowed me to embrace and take shelter within him in front of everyone!

Ruby: Stop.

Whitley: And let me tell you, we both were quite sweaty as I took hold of him, and there was so much fluids everywhere that it was almost unbearable!

Ruby: Please, STOP.

Whitley: And even though that massive one-eyed snake was a tough and sturdy beast, Jaune and I, together, pushed through its fluids and whacked away that snake into a crater! It was a long and hard thing to whack, but finally, our endless whacking offed the one-eyed snake, stopping it from squirting any further fluids all over the people of New Atlas!

Ruby: I'm convince you're doing this on purpose...

Whitley: Doing what?! I'm just describing how Jaune and I shared a good whacking together!

Ruby: Whitley! Please!

Whitley: Look, Ruby, I understand you have concerns, and maybe the way I talk about Jaune is a bit much, but it's purely out of admiration and respect for the man who married my sister, and who saved all of New Atlas from that one-eyed snake's squirting!

Ruby: Whitley...

Whitley: (Holds her hands) But trust me when I say that is all there is to it! You are the love of my life, Ruby~. You're a kind and gentle soul who cares for everyone and only wants them to be happy, and I'm honored to have you as my wife~.

Ruby: Babe... That's... That's so sweet~! Thank you for saying that! (Hugs) I'll admit, maybe I was just jealous of your bond with Jaune and, even though what you were saying before didn't help, I see it's nothing like I thought it was. And even though you have this weird habit to say innuendos, you really love me the way I love you~.

Whitley: Indeed! You have nothing to worry about, my love~!

Ruby: (Giggles) Yeah... I know better now, honey...

Whitley: Besides, we only had sex, like, 19 times!

Ruby: ...

Ruby: W H A T ?

Whitley: YES! And those are only since you and I have been married~! Oh, but don't worry; we were both wearing socks the entire time, so it wasn't gay!

Ruby: THAT'S... YOU... I...

Whitley: Because as "NotGayDongLover6969" posted, "You can have sex with the homies as much as you want and as long as you wear socks it's not gay!" Truly, a voice for the modern age to live by~!

Ruby: I want a divorce.

Whitley: WHAT?! WHY?!

[lets-try-some-writing]

since i know you like your alien worldbuilding and i’m not really sure if you’ve answered an ask related to this yet, at least for tfp, i’d just be really interested in hearing some of your ideas (if you have any) on what cybertronian beauty standards are, and how most of the main cast would be seen in regards to those standards. do they even have an understandable concept of beauty? i mean obviously shiny paint and buffed finishes would probably be the norm, and different branches of the transformers race would definitely value certain traits over others (velocitron comes to mind) but what other features do you think would be cybertronian society’s general ideals?

Heck yeah, worldbuilding time. Lets gooooooo-

━━━━━━ ⊙ ��� ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Cybertronian Beauty Standards

There are a few universals when it comes to beauty standards across Cybertron. Namely well done paint, buffed plating, and unbroken armor. However across regions and castes, there are a few preferences that are rather prevalent.

Amidst high castes, the favored form is flamboyancy and keeping up the latest trends. If one wishes to keep up to standard, they will be required to constantly change their frame, usually in irreversible ways in order to ensure they are up to snuff. The trends always change, so it is near impossible to pinpoint what is seen as beautiful at any given moment amongst the high caste, but a few constants are brighter colors, accessories in abundance, and expressive optics. Its all a way to show off authority and wealth.

Middle caste mecha tend to be more reserved, and as a general rule, a more composed and sophisticated look is the most attractive. A firm frame without any serious kibble, hardy and built to last but still with enough unique accessories to stand out. Duller versions of their high caste counterparts paint selections are often the preferred choice, but often brighter colors are still appreciated most. For the middle caste its all about showing off one's ability to take care of themselves while still standing out in a way that is not obnoxious.

Low caste mecha look for survivability in those around them to determine beauty. A sturdy frame with no serious signs of deterioration, an appealing collection of scars to tell of battles won, and bright but often cold colors are preferred. Shining silver and multiple layers of armor are seen as most beautiful due to the story such things tell. A mech who can withstand everything and still manage to buff out their plating is one who is well regarded amongst the low castes.

Across different city states, these standards largely remained the same but were adapted to the preferences of each area. In the case of Iacon and its similarly wealthy sister cities, all mecha regardless of caste were expected to maintain their frame. Bright colors, slim waists with bulky shoulders and chevrons were seen as the most appealing. Thick pedes were also seen as an expression of grace when combined with thin legs and the overall bulk of the upper body. Additional kibble was not seen as particularly appealing and often a more minimalist appearance was most well regarded since it showed a mech could go without any notable modifications. If one had modifications, they were to be hidden if the mech in question wanted to keep up appearances. Any sort of markings to the frame were looked down upon, especially scarring. Clean plating without blemish was always seen as far superior to any sort of marking in wealthy cities. With that in mind, face preference tended to lean more toward those with polished and flat faces with their most interesting feature being their optics.

Less wealthy but more productive cities like Polyhex and Vos had a whole different set of preferences. Extra kibble was seen as appealing with a particular preference toward doorwings and wings in general. To have such a sensitive piece of additional kibble was put on a pedestal as it spoke of increadible self control to not be hitting everything and everyone or responding to stimuli poorly. Visors were held in high regard partially for the protective factor they offered, but largely due to how they obscured the face, a trait that was in high demand due to the various careers seen in the more bustling cities. Identity was everything, so having a frame with a slim midsection but with kibble almost everywhere else was seen as quite beautiful. Markings were tolerated and even seen as appealing to a degree so long as they were either artistically placed, or in the case of scarring, very minimal. The preference for facial structure was not really present as most instead preferred to focus on their visors as their most notable frame addition.

In poorer cities with a higher concentration of low caste mecha, such as Kaon and Helex, preferences differed yet again. Thick armor, heavily armed, and larger frames were seen as superior in every regard. The larger and sturdier a mech was, the better. A degree of curvage was seen as appealing, but largely the beauty was found in armor structure and useful kibble. Mecha in poorer cities resented any sort of ridiculous flamboyancy and much preferred quieter methods of showing off their grace. Polished but scarred armor was a mark of wisdom and prowess. Cooler colors showed an ability to go into battle without regard for faction or affiliation. Open weaponry showed bravery and honor since they quite clearly knew when and when not to fight. Usefulness was the most appealing, along with more aggressive plating structure. Unlike other cities, smooth and simple plating was not the most beautiful and instead most mecha agreed that spikes or at least extra boxy armor was better. With that in mind, sharper faces were also in higher demand.

Excluding cities, beauty standards fell into an interesting gray area that depended entirely on region. In small settlements, everything depending on environment. Those that lived near the sea were fond of the bulkier mecha since they could withstand the storms. They cared for them even more if their colors were various shades or orange and rust. Mecha from the spire forests were far fonder of tall and spindly frames, those with dark colors of the earth capable of rushing between obstacles without regard for the difficulties of a larger body. Those from the open plains and wastes fancied those more capable of speed so that they could get from point A to B without need for days of travel. Everything depended on region when not in the cities.

While there were outliers and small subcultures with different preferences, this is the overview.

[erinawritesheadcanons2]

Hello! Would it be possible to get head canons of Jeff with an S/O who is touch starved? Also I love your work sm❤️

Jeff the Killer, Homidicial Liu and Jane Killer with a S/O Who is Touch Starved

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

A/N: I hope you don't mind Anon that I add Homidicial Liu and Jane the Killer. Also, warning that this chapter might contain some violence and profanities. Anyway, thank you for giving me this request Anon.

Warning: Light NSFW

Gender: Neutral

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Jeff The Killer

Since he is tall and a little bit sturdy. Jeff The Killer would give a warm cuddle for you if you are touch starved and wants him to hug you.

Sometimes, he would also kiss your head when you ask him or not even ask him. He is surprising can be a bit touch starved too despite being a killer.

He would also gently stroke your hair and live some butterfly kisses on your nose if he is in his teasing mode and wanted to see you giggle.

He can be a little bit perverted though because he would also smack your ass when he is a bit horny. Or lightly pinch your butt without hurting you. He does this if he is bored and there is nothing to do.

If you want him to hold you and kiss you. He would hug and kiss you but you had to ask him directly because he won't understand shit if you just give him codes. He's insensitive.

He does get annoyed that you want his hugs and kisses but you were not telling him directly because he prefers you telling him directly or he would keep saying "Oi! I don't even understand what the heck you just said!" His brain is lagging.

Sometimes, it was not only you who is touch starved, to be honest, but he would also demand cuddles from you out of nowhere. Just go straight pulling you to the bed or to the couch to hug you.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Drops of crimson liquid dripped from the blade, forming a macabre dance of red onto the metallic sink. Jeff's face remained impassive as he scrubbed away the evidence of his latest gruesome encounter. Drops of water splattered onto the tiled surface as he rinsed the blade. The air was thick with a mix of clean water along with droplets of blood.

(Y/N) leaned against the doorway, a slight sigh escaping your lips as you watched Jeff the Killer engrossed in his task. (Y/N) found their mind wandering, yearning for something more engaging as you keep watching the white hooded killer to be done with cleaning his weapon after the mission that was given by the faceless man.

Lately, it seemed like his attention had been increasingly consumed by his missions and tasks, leaving little room for the simple moments they cherished. The thought of cuddling up with him, sharing quiet moments away from the shadows of his eerie life, tugged at (Y/N)'s heart.

With a final satisfied wipe of the cloth, Jeff the Killer set aside his gleaming knife, his scarred features shifting into an expression of casual nonchalance. Jeff the Killer's scarred hands moved as he prepared the mac and cheese. He poured the pasta into the boiling water, the sound of bubbling filling the air as he stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon.

His gaze remained focused on the pot, his mind seemingly absorbed in the task at hand. As the pasta cooked to perfection, he reached for the powdered cheese packet, tearing it open and pouring its contents into a waiting bowl. The next thing he did is drain the cooked pasta and added it to the bowl along with the cheese.

Carrying the steaming bowl of mac and cheese, the white hooded killer entered the living room with a spoon inside of the bowl. As he set the bowl down on the table, he noticed (Y/N) standing there, your gaze fixed on him with longing and boredom. "What the hell are you staring at?" he asked in a low, husky tone as he tilts his head to the side a little bit.

(Y/N)'s eyes softened as she/he/they watched Jeff staring at you from far away with eyebrows raised in confusion. With a small smile playing on your lips, (Y/N) opened their/her/his arms in a clear invitation, a silent request for a comforting hug. "Hey, come here," you murmured gently, your voice carrying a mix of affection and longing.

However, Jeff's scarred brow furrowed slightly, his scarlet-ringed eyes narrowing as he struggled to grasp the context of the situation. Growing increasingly impatient, (Y/N)'s smile faded into a faint frown as they observed Jeff the Killer's continued confusion. With an exasperated sigh, (Y/N) crossed their arms, your annoyance evident in the furrow of your brows. "Jeff, seriously?" (Y/N) huffed, your tone tinged with a mixture of amusement and frustration. "I just want to cuddle, okay?" you finally admitted.

A flash of understanding finally crossed Jeff's scarred features, his lips curling into an amused grin as he rolled his eyes playfully. "Well, you could've just said so," he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of mock exasperation. With a step closer, he finally wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling her/him/them into a warm embrace as they settled onto the couch.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

❀

❀

❀

❀

Homidicial Liu

Even though he's not as big as Jeff, he is surprisingly can be warm so don't worry about feeling uncomfortable. With his iconic scarf, you could cuddle together.

Liu does like the hug that he has gotten from you but sadly Sully is not as welcoming as him so it is pretty tricky if you are touch-starved and wants him to hug you.

Sully rarely likes hugs unless he is in his emotional wreck and needs some comfort. If you try to hug him. Not only he would shove you away but he would give you the closest glare and scoff at you before telling you, he does not want a hug

As a result. He does not always hug you because he knows Sully is going to be pissed off and he might accidentally hurt you as Sully going to be straight pushing you away from him.

If you are touch-starved. he is going to make sure the other side of him still has not woken up so he could hug you when Sully is still asleep and sneak some little nose kisses.

Also, he would also put his scarf on you as the two of you cuddle together when you need some hugs from him and surprisingly he would prepare some hot chocolate for the two of you.

Don't even think of touching the scars on his face. That is actually one of the triggers that would awake Sully. You might don't know but Sully is very protective of Liu.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

In the tranquil embrace of the night, (Y/N) reclined on the bed, the soft glow of their bedside lamp casting a warm halo around you. Laying there, lost in the melodies that you are currently hearing through your headphones. The music served as a gentle companion as they awaited the arrival of certain someone with scars on his face.

Steeping through the Front door. A male with a scarf on his neck finally returned to your house with a sigh of relief escaping his after a gruelling mission by the faceless man. The dim light of the hallway illuminated the exhaustion in his eyes, his dishevelled hair is the proof he is done with the mission he had given as he made his way into the living room.

A faint sound caught Homicidal Liu's attention as he stood in the living room, the weariness from his mission still lingering. His scarlet-ringed eyes flickered towards the staircase, his senses heightened as he registered the soft, rhythmic footsteps echoing from above. With a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, he turned his gaze upwards, his brows furrowing slightly in wonder.

Homicidal Liu's weary expression lit up with a genuine smile as he watched (Y/N) descend the staircase, each step bringing them/him/her closer to him. The weight of his mission seemed to momentarily fade into the background, replaced by the sheer happiness that their presence brought him. His scarred features softened as he took in the sight of you.

(Y/N) approached Homicidal Liu with a gentle smile, your (e/c) eyes carrying a hint of shyness and affection. As you reached his side, your fingers played with the hem of his shirt before you timidly opened your arms, a silent invitation for him to embrace you. "I miss you so much, Liu. I was really lonely," (Y/N) mumbles but loud enough for him to hear their/her/his every word.

With a warm yet tender smile, he willingly enveloped them in his arms, drawing them close in a comforting embrace. "I miss you too, (Y/N). The mission was really hard, those hunters almost caught us when we were going out," Liu mutters, keep holding (Y/N) close to his arms.

Hidden inside Liu's body, Sully observed the scene before him with a barely concealed eye-roll. As he watched Liu and (Y/N) hugging each other, a mixture of annoyance and anger flickered across his features. He had seen this display of affection countless times, and though he understood their connection, he couldn't help but find it dramatic like those scenes from the movie.

Feeling a slight shift in the atmosphere, Homicidal Liu gradually pulled away from the embrace with (Y/N), his scarlet-ringed eyes catching a glimpse of Sully's nonchalant demeanour. A faint furrow formed between Liu's brows as he registered Sully's subtle reaction. Sensing a hint of discomfort, he turned his attention back to (Y/N), a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Sorry," he murmured softly, his tone laced with sincerity as he glanced at you.

The gree eye killer eyes held a warmth as he spoke softly to (Y/N), his fingertips lightly brushing against theirs. "How about we cuddle later?" he suggested, his voice carrying a soothing tone. "Let me clean up a bit first and wait until Sully is calm." (Y/N)'s eyes softened as she/he/they nodded in understanding, your smile reflecting your affection for your green eye killer boyfriend. "Of course," you replied, (Y/N) voice gentle as they/she/he squeezed his hand briefly.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

(Picture is not mine. Credit to the owner. I got this GIF from Tenor).

❀

❀

❀

❀

❀

Jane the Killer

Jane might not be as muscular and sturdy as Jeff The killer as she is slightly smaller than him but that does not mean you cannot ask her for a hug.

Actually, she might be a better person for cuddling if you are her GIrlfriend and you are touch-starved. She could sense you want her hug even if you did not ask her directly.

And she is more cuddly as well as more sensitive than Jeff so even just a little code of a little body movement that signalling you want some cuddles. She would be there to hug you.

The only difference is that she does not like PDA whereas Jeff is much more shameless when it comes to PDA so don't ask her for a cuddle when there are tons of people. She won't do it. Jane loves cuddling with you but SHE IS SHY when it comes to PDA.

Instead, ask her at the appropriate time when the two of you are alone in the bedroom and want some cuddles. She would immediately hug you.

She would even give a nose kiss and a forehead kiss when the two of you two are cuddling together. Nose Kisses mostly when she is in her playful mode whereas her forehead kisses when she is also as touch-starved as you.

Also, Jane luckily is not as Perverted as Jeff the Killer so she is not going to touch you everywhere and would only just touch the part of you body that you allow her to touch. her hands not gonna wonders around.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

The air was charged with a mix of frustration and disbelief as (Y/N) stood before Jeff the Killer, (Y/N)'s arms crossed and their expression a mixture of irritation and incredulity. "Jeff, seriously? You stole my apple pie?" you exclaimed. Her/his/their voice is a blend of annoyance and disbelief. Jeff's nonchalant demeanour did little to quell (Y/N) anger, and you could feel your temper rising. "I didn't steal anything," he replied with a casual shrug, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

(Y/N)'s annoyance reached its peak, his/her/their patience wearing thin as Jeff the Killer continued to deny his involvement in the missing apple pie. Your (e/c) eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Jeff, if you don't admit it right now and give my pie back, I swear I'll take that knife of yours away," (Y/N) warned, your voice edged with a seriousness that cut through the room.

Jeff's grin faltered for a split second, his blue eyes narrowing as he sensed the intensity behind (Y/N)'s threat. The atmosphere shifted immediately from peaceful turn tense in one second. His fingers clenched into fists, the tension radiating from his entire form. "You really want to play that game?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

As the argument between Jeff the Killer and (Y/N) escalated, the air crackled with tension, and Jeff's anger reached a boiling point. His blue eyes. Blazed with a furious intensity as he reached into his pocket and swiftly withdrew his gleaming knife. The metal glinted in the dim light, a stark reminder of the danger that lingered beneath his seemingly carefree exterior.

Sensing the escalating tension and the glint of the blade in Jeff's hand, (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes widened with a mixture of fear and anger. (Y/N)'s heart raced, and instinctively, you took a step back, taking your own knife and sliding it into your hand from your pocket. Your breathing quickened as you mirrored his defensive stance

Jane the Killer's keen instincts picked up on the brewing storm between (Y/N) and Jeff the Killer, her black eyes narrowing as she sensed the impending clash. In a swift motion, she positioned herself between the two as she was running from the couch and going into the kitchen.

Her face held a stern expression as she fixed Jeff with an unwavering glare, her stance radiating a readiness to intervene. Turning her gaze to (Y/N), her demeanour softened slightly, a silent gesture that conveyed both understanding and the urge to de-escalate the situation. She extended a hand towards you. "Let's go to my room," she whispers.

Jane the Killer maintained her firm grip on (Y/N)'s arm as she led them away from the tense confrontation, guiding (Y/N) to her room. Her gaze is gentle as she noticed (Y/N)'s downcast expression. The silence between them spoke volumes, and without a word, Jane stepped closer to (Y/N), her arms enveloping them in a comforting hug. "It's okay, sweetie. I'm here, Jeff is not going to hurt you when I'm in here," she whispers soothingly.

(Y/N)'s shoulders relaxed as Jane's arms encircled around her/him/them. Slowly, (Y/N) returned the hug, their arms wrapping around Jane as they sought refuge in the comfort of the moment. The weight of the earlier confrontation seemed to lift as they clung to each other.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

(Picture is not mine, credit to the author by Asyaejderha)

❀

❀

❀

❀

❀

[changingplumbob]

Knightstone Household: Chapter 9, Part 13

Suzanna was out gathering minerals when she heard someone approach. Finishing off she stood up and dusted herself down. The voice behind her surprised her though.

Faye: Hey boss... can I talk to you

Suzanna: Umm, you want to talk to me?

Faye: Not really. I mean... this job is really important to me. I’ve dreamed of being a scientist since I could walk basically

Suzanna: I know what you mean, it was the same for me

Faye: I got defensive but... I thought about what you said. I did overstep with Shelley. It was unprofessional. I apologised to her

Suzanna: You apologised? That’s great

Faye: I mean, if she had tried to give me commands I would have snapped. She had every right to be mad at me. I let my personal need for success win over the need to be part of the team, it won’t happen again

Suzanna: Does this mean we’re going to be besties now

Faye: Oh heck no. I still think you got your position because you're an alien rather than you have some great talent. But I’m going to try be more of a team player. I can’t promise to like you, ever, but I can promise to do my job and follow your instructions. I hope we can move past the simray testing now

Suzanna: *laughs* Definitely

Back home Suzanna took some time to read while Silas relaxed. Eventually they got talking though and caught up on each others day.

Silas: The substitute said we were a good class. Normally she has to work out of town and teaches disguised but she was able to be in her alien form for our class. She said it felt natural

Suzanna: That’s good

Silas: I’m glad we moved here Mummy, it’s nice

Suzanna: Yeah I like it to

Before bed Silas sat down with Suzanna to learn all he could about his new alien for show and tell.

Silas: If it’s a Red Coral why does it look pink

Suzanna: Things don’t always have fitting names, but in this case it’s genetic

Silas: What does that mean

Suzanna: So female Red Coral are red, and much smaller than this one. The pink ones are boys

Silas: They are? But how can you tell

Suzanna: MRI’s of them show their insides and let us know

Silas: And why does it have the eye stalks

Suzanna: To see. Their home planet has lower gravity and their buoyancy allows them to sort of bounce around. They spend more time in the air than on the ground so they need to see more angles, so more eyes

Silas: They’re not hurt by the gravity here are they

Suzanna: No. Remember how we can read minds? I can tell that he’s not in any pain or discomfort

Silas: I know you found him on Sixam so how’d he get there

Suzanna: With the amount of time they spend in the air it’s easy for them to knock against each other and be propelled upwards. Their planet as far as we can tell is along a well traveled route. When they get too high they’re drawn to the ships and stick to the outsides as they approach other planets such as Earth or Sixam

Silas: And they just fall to the ground

Suzanna: As far as we can tell, they’ve never been found in vessels. They are remarkably sturdy. Think that’s enough for show and tell

Silas: I suppose. I just need to think of a good name

Fitting in a quick workout before bed Suzanna admired her art collection. Today at work she’d collected the last My Sims trophy she needed for a complete collection, and she wondered if she would get a plaque in the mail. She had recieved one for the aliens collection but not the geode collection so she was unsure what the humans counted for rewards. She hadn’t had much time to stargaze with the winter weather but hopefully next rotation.

The next day Suzanna called work to have another vacation day. This time Faye was more civil and promised to share the command duties with Shelley rather than bossing her coworker around. Satisfied with that Suzanna decided to give Pollock a bath, he needed it with his food flying everywhere. Adam spent the morning at the computer working on his next sci fi novel and after cleaning up her son Suzanna headed out to the garden.

While Suzanna tended her plants Pollock played in the snow, enjoying throwing it in the air and declaring he was making it snow.

While Adam headed off to work Suzanna and Pollock had a chill afternoon inside by the thermostat. Seeing Suzanna reading Pollock decided to copy her and set about studying the pages of one of his books. Pollock was excited for Silas to get home but since the older boy had homework to work on Pollock spent his time playing with the ring stack toy.

Once Adam got home the family had dinner.

Suzanna: How was show and tell Starshine?

Silas: Really good, everyone was impressed with the Red Coral. It’s funny, my class is half alien right

Adam: Yeah, and your normal teacher

Silas: But some of them hadn’t realised that other types of aliens existed. Small ones that is, they thought it was just us

Pollock: We many Silas

Silas: Yeah we are. But they were interested in your other aliens Mummy, can I take another one next time

Adam: Depends if you look after the Red Coral

Silas: I will. If it can survive a fall from space to the ground I’m sure I can

Suzanna: Technically it didn’t survive the fall as I revived it but close enough

Suzanna got the children to bed and cleaned the dishes while Adam made a final push on his book. The editor agreed that the manuscript was excellent and promised to forward it to the publisher as soon as the physical copy arrived. Heading upstairs Adam found Suzanna reading the book he’d gotten her for Winterfest.

Adam: Are you enjoying it

Suzanna: I am. There’s a gem seed in here that sounds fascinating. Of course it’s been too cold to plant anything

Adam: Not for much longer, the rain out there is melting the snow, we’re past the middle of winter

Suzanna: *sighs* We’ve had a good holiday season though

Adam: We have. Care for one last gift under the covers?

Suzanna: *laughing* I’m not sure if I’m on the naughty or nice list

Adam pulled her close for a deep kiss.

Adam: Why not both? I love you Starlight

Suzanna: You’re my guiding star, always

After woohoo the pair snuggled close and fell asleep to the sound of gentle rain on the roof.

Previous ... Next (Foster)

[imhereformysciencefriends]

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 1: Break!

Read on AO3 here

Forest elves were known to come in many shapes and sizes. Gem was a willowy, slender, waifish, faun-looking elf, herself, with pointed ears and delicate antlers and bright red freckles that matched her hair, and thin, unicorn-like hooves and legs. It did mean that brushing her hair meant brushing her hocks, too, but it was such a natural part of life she didn’t even think about it. Despite her slim form, she wasn’t actually particularly tall, nearly every aspect of her small in one regard or another (except her hair, which was wild and curly and bright flashy red).

But she did have big aspirations! Many of her glade were content to build where they’d always built and live how they’d always lived, but Gem was curious about the border where their forest ended, where it rode up against strange lifeforms ethereal and odd. Gem was sure that as an elf, and a faunish one at that, it was a little rich for her to call something else ethereal and odd, but it was true!

At the edge of their forest, right across a broad river that served as a natural border, weird, brightly colored plants grew, moved in ways that plants shouldn’t move, and Gem swore she saw a ruin in there somewhere.

Now, she wasn’t going to try and stake a territory in the alien landscape. She was a braver elf than most but she would not be doing that, no thank you! She’d just set up her base across the river from it, still in her glade’s cozy ancestral home, shoring up the border of their territory (not that the river needed much help. In terms of forest edges that were in danger of being deforested, this one was generally considered one of the safer spans of area).

And go exploring! Sometimes.

Once she’d made a cute, cozy little cottage for herself, fussed around with her garden a bit, and gotten up some of her favorite pieces of art, she had to finally admit that she was stalling. It wasn’t that she wasn’t curious about the strange place! She was! But it also… seemed kinda dangerous, you know?

But it was time to put on her big girl tunic and see what was goin’ on over there! She cinched her leather underbust around her waist and tucked a couple thin vials of health potion into the sturdy straps, laced up her greaves and gauntlets, corralled her hair back into a loose, low ponytail, and set off! Worst comes to worst, she’d down a health potion and dart back home. Of all the elvish traits she’d inherited, being quick hooved with a keen sense of when to get the heck outta somewhere were amongst her strongest. 

But things were off to a good start! The landscape here was beautiful, oh! So much of her wanted to take clippings or seed pods back home with her, though the rational part of her brain knew she should proooobably know a little more about what she was dealing with before she did that. But oh, the pinks and the oranges, the bright vibrant yellows despite autumn still being a ways away, the strange, moving vines and roots that did not radiate any malice or intent. It was gorgeous! 

Now she felt a little silly for taking so long to come out here! Eee, she wished she was a better artist, she wanted to show everybody back home how lovely it was here! 

And the ruins! Definitely human, though Gem didn’t know of any human civilizations that had lived so close to her glade on this side of the forest. It must be a very old ruin indeed! She pranced through them, light on her hooves, giggling to herself as she went. 

The ruins were very, very old, so Gem was quite surprised when she found herself caught in a modern trap.

She yelped as tension snapped around her, a net of string clearly recently-fashioned hoisting her from the earth and leaving her dangling a solid four or five feet above ground.

“Hey!” she shouted, struggling instinctively. Oh this was silly! Now she was glad she was alone! Imagine! Her! An elf! Caught by a simple snare like this! Oh if anyone in her glade saw her like this she would never live it down! 

But a modern trap meant a modern inhabitant. Gem’s blood chilled at the realization, and she then redoubled her efforts to get out. She didn’t know what kind of creature would have the mental acumen and dexterity to make a trap and was crazy enough to live here, but she! Didn’t! Want to know!

She yanked at the strings. It was well-crafted, likely spider silk, and Gem’s palms burned where she pulled and struggled. She kicked at it with her hooves, actually managing to snap a couple pieces here and there, but the net was intelligently made and did not unravel entirely at the loss of a few supports. 

The bad angle wore at her stamina and the rising panic didn’t help at all. Especially since the plants, which had previously laid about so docile, even friendly, seemed like they were moving towards her now! 

“Stay back!” she shouted at them, for all that she knew plants could neither hear nor “think” in the way that people thought. As she might have expected, the slow waves and wiggling of vines and roots went without dissuasion. She sank her teeth into the woven string, gnawing at it with her sharper canines, but the progress she made was frankly pitiful. It seemed she’d snapped all the weakest points, and all that remained was outside her ability to escape. 

Finally, she wore herself out, and hung there, limply, trapped in the net as a fly in an actual web. It was hard to breathe as deeply as her body wanted, all folded in half like she was, one hoof and hock sticking out between the netting with one of the strings biting painfully into her skin, but she was too tired to try and wiggle it back in. She was mortified, too, red faced from exertion and embarrassment both. And one of her antlers was stuck and trying to move her head made the hornbed ache!

It was hard to tell how long she hung there. Not enough time for her to fully catch her breath, but enough that when she heard approaching footsteps, she instinctively turned to look. It pulled on her antler and she let out a small, high pitched noise, wriggling in her bindings once again.

“Oh!” came a woman’s voice, “Hyello!”

“Hi,” Gem said, half-breathless and irritable. “Let me down.” 

“Well I almost wouldn’t need to!” The woman spoke with a strange accent, one Gem really hadn’t heard before, and she hung aggravatingly juuuuust in Gem’s peripherals. “You went and broke my trap! Not very polite of you.”

“What’s not polite is leaving me hanging here in a net!” Gem shouted, struggling again. 

The woman laughed at her, the jerk, but thankfully gave a, “I know, I know, I’m just messin’ with you. Hold still, here, hup!”

Movement, the net swaying, and then there was the release of some mechanism and Gem and the woman both dropped to the ground, the one on the outside of the net landing nicely on her feet. 

“Ow,” Gem deadpanned, far less amused with this situation than her captor/savior.

“You’re an interesting looking stranger. Are you from here?”

“I’m from across the river,” Gem said, accepting the help to sit up and detangle herself from the net. “I was just exploring. Are you from here?”

“No,” she said with a bright shrug. “I am living here now though, I suppose. I’m researching the area.”

Gem grunted and started trying to unhook the webbing from her antlers. As she did, she surveyed her new… whoever this was.

By all accounts, she looked like an ordinary human woman (and what indignity, an elf caught in a human trap!). Long, pale brown hair that hung halfway down her biceps. Thick, sturdy-made green overalls and a well made cotton shirt beneath. Big, sturdy stompin’ boots. Everything the woman wore (and netted, apparently) seemed to be fashioned for durability.

…Gem had been staring at her strong arms long enough she’d made out fine little hairs on her skin. Probably should look somewhere else. 

“Thanks,” she said, less irritable now that she wasn’t strung from a tree, “for helping me down.”

“Awh, sorry for snatchin’ you up in the first place! I’m trying to catch one of the little scuttlers, the one I’ve been researching got out and it’s been awful trying to get it back again.”

“Scuttlers?”

“That’s what I’m calling them! Here, come inside, I’ll show you my research lab.”

Now, Gem was an adult woman. She was smart enough to know it wasn’t always wise to follow a stranger to a secondary location. Especially after that stranger had already caught her in one trap.

But this stranger had also let her out of the trap. And she was a pretty woman. Surely pretty women had no nefarious purposes. And besides, Gem, like, owed her or something. It’d be rude not to go.

“Sorry again about your trap,” she mentioned, glancing at the broken remains before following.

“No worries! It was getting old, anyway.”

“Mm. Hey, what’s your name? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Oh yeah! I’m your friendly resident Pearlo! Call me Pearl,” she said cheerfully, whirling around to outstretch her hand.

Gem took it in hers, strong, callused human fingers clasping firmly around dainty elvish ones.

“Call me Gem,” she echoed.

“Hey, listen to that! Gem and Pearl, we get one more and we’ll have a whole jewelry box.”

Gem laughed, and noticed that Pearl had not released her hand in order to resume walking her inside. They were holding hands now. Pearl didn’t even seem to notice it, so it was probably natural and nothing important to her. It should’ve felt natural and unimportant to Gem, too, she’d held lots and lots of hands before and it had never meant anything particularly special.

But, well, you see, Gem was not immune to Pretty Lady. 

She followed her into one of the ruined structures, which was not so ruined on the inside, and listened as Pearl discussed her research. The “scuttler” was some sort of guard dog for one of those ancient underground cities, barking whenever passerby tread too loudly and alerting the alarm system, and eventually a huge beast. Gem listened with one cheek propped up on her fist, watching Pearl walk about her laboratory with the occasional “mhm” or “oh really?” to keep her going.

It was when Pearl said a particularly silly joke with a toss of her hair and a cock of her hip that Gem realized, “Oh, you’re trying to impress me!”

Pearl shocked still, mouth hanging open and eyes blown wide, and Gem giggled to see her blush.

“No, no,” she rushed to follow up, “keep going.” She tilted her head so her bright curls spilled over her shoulder and smiled with a flutter of her eyelashes. “It was working.”

[tj-crochets]

My grandma just called me to say she "likes the red and black, but the denim doesn't look good" and that this "would be a good quilt for a dog" lol

The lumberjack quilt is complete! It is very heavy and very cozy

[sl-newsie]

A Normal Christmas (Riff Lorton x OC) *Christmas Special* 🎄

Summary: Riff has never had a ‘normal’ Christmastime, so his girlfriend takes him around to finally get a Christmas tree.

“Wait. What?” I ask in a deadpan tone.

“You hoid me,” Riff replies from the couch. “Never had a tree.”

I blink, my jaw still dragging on the floor. It’s currently December 23, and every time I’ve visited Riff this month I keep waiting for him to get a tree for his apartment. And there’s still no tree! I got so anxious I finally just flat-out asked him why he hadn’t got one yet, only to find out he had no clue why he needed a Christmas tree.

“How are you so calm about this? How have you never had a tree?” I ask with wide eyes.

Riff lets out a deep sigh and shuffles over to the kitchen. “I donno. It’s just…” He scratches his head. “My family’s never really done Christmas.”

I scrunch my nose. “Never done Christmas? How does that even happen-? Oh.” My face falls and realization washes over me. 

Riff chuckles. “Grow’n up with little spare change can’t really buy Christmas. After my dad died I just sorta forgot about it. I know it’s supposed to be all grand and exciting, but to me Christmas is just like any odda holiday.”

“Oh my God. Riff, I’m so sorry.” I walk over and take his hand. “I’m sorry Christmas isn’t as special for you. It’s a time-a year that’s supposed to be with family and friends, good food and decorations…” An idea pops into my head and I start dragging him to the door.

“Wait- Wha-? Holly, whaddya doing?” Riff tries to ask.

“All this mope’n around stops now.” I open the door and grab my coat. “Tonight I’m gonna take you to get a Christmas tree.”

The handsome Jet chuckles and tries to wave it off. “That’s real sweet-a ya, Holy. But you don’t gotta-”

“Yes I do!” I stop to face him when we reach the stairwell. “Riff, you’ve never had a real Christmas your whole life. I wanna make it up to you because I luv you. Please?”

Riff goes to argue, but when he sees my pleading eyes he shuts his mouth and rethinks. Instead of answering, Riff wraps me into a tight hug.

“Gee, doll. I donno how to thank you.”

I smile. “You can thank me by helping me carry the tree home. Now let’s go!”

The nearest tree lot is only a few blocks away, and as soon as we enter the gate Riff is already confused.

“So they chop the trees down, drive them here and just… leave them out?”

I nod as I look over a nice and sturdy spruce. “Yeah. Since folks in the city don’t got nearby woods, it’s easier to bring them here. Whaddya think-a this one?”

Riff takes a good look at the pinetree I’m presenting that’s almost as tall as me. “Is it supposed to be small?”

My smile falters by a fraction. “Well… not really. But the bigger the tree the bigger the price. I can only afford a table topper tree.”

The Jet scrunches his face. “A table topper tree? What the heck does that mean?”

“It’s a tree that rich folks put on their dining tables for decoration.”

Riff’s jaw drops. “You mean that whole tree goes on a flip’n table? Jeez, this tradition is weird.”

“Do you mind the small one?” I ask in an uneasy tone.

“I think it’s poifect, Holly.” Riff gets a grateful smile on his face. “Now let me hold up my end-a the bargain and carry it home.”

“Let’s hurry!” I start to shiver. “I hoid there’s supposed to be snow tonight.”

Back at Riff’s apartment we find a spot for the tree by the window. Since it’s small we only have to use cinder blocks to keep in place. Once we’ve finished, Riff gets an odd look.

“Looks good, right?”

I smirk and start pull’n out the box I brought from home. “We ain’t done yet, Lorton. We gotta decorate it.”

“With wha-? Oh my God. How much did you bring?”

I let out a carefree laugh as I set out strings of popcorn, a few cheap ornaments, some tinsel, and an old angel.

“A few things from home. I made the angel when I was a kid. And-” I skip over and hand the angel to Riff. “You get to put it on the top!”

Riff gently takes the angel as if I’d just given him a hundred dollars.

“Holly, this… this is the greatest gift ever. Thank you!”

I let out a laugh. “Riff, I’ll admit your gratefulness and enthusiasm is appreciated, but it’s just an angel.”

He gawks at me and sets the angel down, then cups my face in his hands.

“Holly, this ain’t just an angel. It’s you give’n me a real Christmas that’s so special. I don’t even know what gift to get you to say thank-you.”

I wrap my arms around his head and press a kiss on his cheek. “You already did, Riff. You gave up rumbles, you made peace with the Jets. Just the assurance of know’n you’ll come home in one piece is a gift in itself.”

We each lean in to hug, a few seconds go by, and Riff stays silent. After a while I feel him starting to shake and move away to see tears streaming down his worn face.

“I- You- This… I donno what to say, Holly.” He looks to me as a lost sheep who found its shepherd. 

I use my thumb to wipe away his tears. “A simple Merry Christmas is plenty enough. Just remember to be the grateful man I know you are, especially around this holy season.”

Riff chokes down more tears and whispers: “Merry Christmas, Holly. I luv you.”

“I know. I luv you too, Jet boy. Now let’s finish decorating this tree before you eat all the popcorn!” I hold up a finger before Riff can argue. “Don’t think I can’t see you snacking on it behind my back! It ain’t for eating, it’s for decoration.”

Riff rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. Do I still get to eat the cookies you brought over?”

My grin widens. “Yes! I’ll go get them, be right back!” I dash into the kitchen and retrieve a red tin from the counter, then turn around to find that Riff has followed behind me and is waiting with a puppy-eyed expression.

“Can I have a cookie, please?”

The scene almost makes me burst out laugh’n. “The once vicious, fearless Jet leader is begging me for a cookie? Wow, times have changed!”

Riff shows mock offense and tackles me in a hug. “They’re your Christmas cookies, and the best ones I’s ever tasted. Now will ya let me have one or will I have to use other methods to get one?” He starts tickl’n my sides and I go into spasms of laughter.

“Riff Lorton- stop- Stop it! Here here- take it!” I cackle as I shove over the cookie tin. Riff removes the lid and his eyes light up at the sight-a the bright-frosted cookies. “There. Happy now-? Oh!” Before I finish, Riff shoves a cookie into my mouth and then takes one for himself.

“Oh my God,” he mumbles as his eyes roll back in pleasure. “This is without a doubt the best thing you’s ever baked, Holly.”

After I’ve chewed and swallowed my cookie I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you, Riff. Now that you’s had your sugar high can we finish decorating?”

Instead of answering, Riff sweeps me up and carries me back to the tree. “‘Course we can, doll. Just curious- whadda we do once it’s decorated?”

“You put gifts under it and open them on Christmas morning,” I explain as I resume hanging ornaments.

“Oh. Alright.” I feel Riff come up behind me and outta nowhere he rolls me beneath the branches. “There! You’re my gift, Holly!”

I blink. His pun is sweet, but the thought-a be’n Riff’s Christmas gift is even sweeter. 

“You’re my gift too, Riff.” I take his hand and bring him closer to join me under the beautiful but humble tree. “Merry Christmas, Jet boy.”

Riff pecks my lips and gives me a genuine smile. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

[srslyscary]

✰ 003. you really are cursed mingi.

minecraft is loading…

“everyone in?” ary’s voice broke through the discord server, her excitement barely contained.

“everyone’s here except for yn.” timothy called out.

“what in the world is she doing?”

“i think she’s eating?”

“well tell her big back ass to hurry it up!”

di-ding!

“I heard that mothafucka.” yn joined with her camera on as her eyes were only seen. she scared everyone as soon as she joined.

“why is potato aim here ..” she called out as soon as she saw the name, the dreadful name she wishes she couldn’t see.

pinkminks

“i’m playing too duhhh.”

she looked at the camera up and down, pretending to bite her fist and then stopping. “oh you saw that? my bad I thought my camera was off.”

_

“it’s been thirty minutes where the hell is my jong at?” yn called out again, pausing her minecraft to look at her discord.

dawg2reall: yeah where’s pookie booty at

“POOKIE BOOTY??” keeho said looking at his own stream chat and back at his discord.

“we don’t play about jong around here, he gets all the cute nicknames.”

“WHAT ABOUT ME?” all the girls yelled in unison.

“damn what was that harmony in blues? .. don’t worry I bet she has nicknames for y’all too.”

“tim , we’re gonna build a castle. I don’t care what anyone says,” keeho said, already planning his empire.

“a castle? we’ve been in here for thirty minutes and we haven’t even found food yet, dude.” timothy replied, but he was clearly all-in for keeho’s wild idea.

doeun had been busying herself with gathering flowers, announcing that she was going to create a beautiful garden. ary, on the other hand, had one goal: diamonds.

“mining is life,” ary muttered under her breath as she began digging straight down, ignoring everyone’s warnings about minecraft’s number one rule.

surpringly soul and bibi had teamed up, and the two were focused on building a cozy little house near the water. lily, meanwhile, was exploring a nearby cave, determined to find enough resources to make everyone weapons and armor.

“lily’s going to be our mvp,” bibi joked, watching lily fearlessly descend into the cave system.

“she’s about to go crazy finding them resources- ain’t that right lily?!”

“YEP!”

“and uh… what about you potato aim?” yn asked as she gathered materials nearby.

“i’m building a house right by the river! i’m gonna raise a pet here. I found a duck, and i’m calling him ducky.”

a wave of laughter erupted in the chat.

“a duck? you’re raising a pet duck in minecraft?” yn wheezed.

mingi defended his decision. “hey- he’s going to be the best duck ever.”

_

mingi’s house was a small but sturdy wooden structure with a fenced-in area where ducky waddled around happily. yn’s base was far more elaborate, and she had enlisted art’s help to mine resources, which she decided to house the rest of the group that hadn’t already been building shelter.

"yn, I don't trust you," mingi declared out of the blue while tending to his duck.

“what? I haven’t done anything yet,” yn replied, a grin creeping onto her face.

“you’re plotting something, I can feel it. you’ve been walking near my house and walking away for 15 minutes now..”

“you must be seeing things.”

meanwhile, chaos erupted on tim and keeho’s side of the map as they bickered over how tall the castle walls should be. keeho wanted it to be grand and towering, while tim just wanted something functional.

“we don’t even have enough stone for this!” tim groaned.

“we can always mine more. get with the program!” keeho shot back.

“ladies, ladies you’re both pretty! now hush it up!” bibi yelled, laughing.

soul and bibi had fallen into a relaxed rhythm, their house now the coziest on the server, complete with flower beds courtesy of doeun.

“eunnie!!! these flowers are so pretty!!”

“THANK YOUUU!”

lily was still deep underground, occasionally muttering about creepers and lava pits. “ary come down here with me and bring a torch.. I forgot some..”

“how the heck did you get down there then?”

“I let the wind guide me!!!!”

“WHAT TYPE OF STUPID SHIT IS THAT??”

_

“uh, hold on, guys. my food just got here.” mingi said.

“what type of food?” soul asked immediately.

“jack in the box!!!”

everyone paused for a second.

“wait, what?” ary laughed.

“his stomach is gonna do backflips, oh lawddd,” yn muttered dramatically.

“that’s an earthquake waiting to happen,” keeho chimed in, barely able to contain his laughter.

the others erupted into laughter as mingi’s character went idle, just standing there with his pet duck next to him.

“I don’t care what anybody says- im about to fuck this shit up!!!” mingi said, his chair creaking as he got up.

“you better hope nothing happens to your house while you're gone,” yn teased.

“you better not yn.” tim spoke up.

“I DIDNT SAY NOTHING??”

shehexedme_: I know you’re about to do smth stupid mother 😭

“am not.”

a few minutes passed, and mingi finally returned, his voice muffled as he was clearly stuffing his face with food.

“okay, I’m back,” he announced.

“is it good mingi??”

“BRO YES. don’t come for me doeun im just trying to enjoy my foo- OH MY GOD.”

“what?” everyone asked.

“MY HOUSE WHAT THE FLIP?!” mingi asked, panic already rising.

“YO MINGI’S HOUSE IS GONE..”

…

“YN!!!!”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?! IM WITH SOUL AND BIBI!!”

mingi’s screen read “you died! / pinkminks was blown up by emperorsluv”. he quickly clicked respawn and his face dropped. his entire house had been blown to smithereens. all that was left were a few scattered blocks, the fence barely holding together. and worst of all, ducky was gone.

“no… no, no, no, no, no!” mingi cried, his character running frantically around the remnants of his house.

“where’s ducky?!” His voice cracked dramatically. “he was my only friend!”

“WHAT ABOUT ME??”

“NOT NOW EUN!!”

“i’m so sorry, pinky,” she whispered, holding back laughter.

“WHY ME?!” mingi demanded, spinning his character around in circles.

yn, cool and collected, simply said, “I don’t know… maybe it was karma.”

“karma for what?” Mingi was practically sobbing into his mic.

“you made us lose that valorant match!!” YN’s grin was audible through her voice. “I told you I’d get you back.”

there was a brief pause before mingi’s gasp, thick with betrayal, echoed through the server.

“YOU BLEW UP MY HOUSE BECAUSE OF A MATCH WE PLAYED A WEEK AGO? WHAT- DUCKY IS GONE BECAUSE OF YOU!!”

the sheer drama in his tone sent everyone into fits of laughter once again.

ary, who had helped yn with the sabotage, chimed in. “in yn’s defense, it was very funny.”

“i can’t believe you two did this to me,” mingi groaned. “my duck… my house… I was just trying to enjoy my jack in the box…”

“lesson learned,” yn teased. “don’t mess with me in valorant, and don’t leave your house unattended in minecraft.”

“you’re absolutely savage for that..” tim said.

soul kept giggling like he couldn’t breathe and the rest of them had already died of laughter.

mingi’s avatar sat down on a nearby block, defeated.

“i can’t believe this…” he said dramatically.

“i’ll help you rebuild mingi, don’t worry.” bibi offered sweetly, while the others continued laughing in the background.

mingi, after hours of moping and pleading, has convinced the entire group to rebuild his house. the new structure was much bigger and sturdier, and with doeun’s finishing touches, it even had a garden.

“alright, mingi.. you’re house is done be grateful.” yn said as she helped put some carpets in the house.

“this won’t bring back ducky…” mingi muttered, still not fully over his loss.

soul chimed in. “if you want another duck, I found an egg earlier. maybe you can raise another ducky.”

“y’all I want a ducky too don’t play..”

“we’ll get you a duck too lily..”

mingi sighed dramatically as everyone stood around mingi’s new house, admiring the work they had done.

just as they were about to call it a day, a creeper appeared out of nowhere, hissing ominously right next to mingi’s new house.

“mingi I think you might wanna move???” tim shouted, but it was too late.

the explosion rocked the server once again, and mingi’s new house was reduced to rubble. everyone was silent for a beat before erupting into hysterical laughter.

mingi, however, was inconsolable.

“WHAT THE HELL?! THIS IS A CONSPIRACY!!!” he wailed dramatically. “WHY IS THIS ONLY HAPPENING TO ME.”

“you really are cursed mingi.”

masterlist | chapter 004.

[mysoulspiralbound]

drew the Omori party in outfits a little more fit for their adventures than there pj's

explanations, dnd classes, close up's, and Mari & Basil under the cut

Omori is the party's bard, despite looking and acting like a rogue. as both an artist and a poet, i thought bard suited him better. working with his monochrome color palette was a challenge, but i'm really happy with how it turned out. a fun fact is that me wondering where the heck omori was keeping a knife on his person (combined with my horror at him running around deep well in his socks) is what inspired this design series. i'd like to imagine that Mewo is his familiar.

Aubry is a barbarian based on her focus on strong attacks and her ability to channel her anger into large damage. i tried to keep the shaping and color of these designs mostly the same, though obviously more embellished, as she's literally running around barefoot in a nightgown in cannon. sturdy gloves and boots are an adventuring must, and i picked her meteor hammer cause i think it's her coolest weapon. i will never understand why Sweatheart's pillow somehow deals more damage.

Kel is a kind of trickster rouge — he's not great at stealth, but he's got the highest dex of the party and he's not bad at traps. he's got a lot of colors in his shirt which was kind of a challenge, and i really went back and forth on what player class to give him. his pouch is for additional amo, and his gloves are based on archers globes, since he's the only one who uses ranges weapons in the party. if i redoing this, i would might get rid of his undertunic and/or leg wraps. they were added for protection, but i feel they're mostly just cluttering up the design.

lastly, Hero is a paladin, based both on his healing abilities and his knight in shining armor energy. i picked pink as his accent color cause it contrasted best while still remaining in the omori pallet. his pj's were the hardest to match into a proper adventurer's outfit, so Hero's armor is largely independent of his canon design. the rose on his chest is a reference to his charming personality, the chivalry expected of knights, and his flower from basil's garden. it's also there to fill space, as his design was looking a little to plain otherwise. his kitchen knife is gold to match his little sparkles and to avoid having it blend too deeply into his armor.

Basil definitely has some strong "your princess is in another castle vibes, so that's what i went with for his outfit. he's got his classic flower crown, and i tried to put as much plant imagery as possible into his dress. i switched the princes gloves for gardening ones in his redesign, as well as changing how the dress layered so the lacing didn't run all the way down the garment. the frills on his sleeves and hem are designed to look like petals!

last but not least it's Mari! i've kind of got two versions of her, but i do very much like both. first, i drew her as a wizard, based a little bit on gandalf's habit of showing up, lending the party a helping hand before disappearing to do "important wizard stuff." she's important and helpful when she shows up, but ultimately, the party has to do things on their own. her spell component pouch and her staff both have her picnic basket theming added, as it's symbolic of her healing abilities and the safety she provides the party.

the other version i drew of her leaned more towards cleric based on her role as healer. she'd be a deeply religious figure, possibly having it be revealed later on that she's more powerful than the party knows. i incorporated her picnic pattern here as well, and kept the style of her shoes, since she is literally the only one of the main six who wears them in the dreamscape. like wizard!Mari, her necklace and the ribbon around her head are both callbacks to the ribbon tied around her neck in her original design.

[valeriwa]

conjuring romance

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

hogwarts!au

entry for the amazing @a1sh1teruu's stuck in summer collab

wc: 3.2k

"i don't think this is a good idea," akaashi said as he watched you and bokuto take out your wands. the grounds were lush and green, with the heavy sun beating over it. summer is a terrible, terrible torture.

"liven up, 'kaashi! besides, all we're trying to do is conjure a bit of snow, right?" you replied, a bright smile on your face as you read the spell from the book bokuto is so graciously holding open for you. the trees swayed in anticipation as if relieved to be nearly rid of the unthinkable heat.

akaashi muttered words of disapproval under his breath before ultimately deciding to help you out. you grinned when you noticed him coming over. he couldn't resist the possibility of snow and after all, he always was swept up with your and bokuto's antics.

"warmed up to the idea, eh?" you winked and nudged him with your elbow. flicking your wrist at what was hopefully the correct angle, you vocalise the incantation and wait. and keep on waiting.

"did it not work?" bokuto shook the book as if snow would fall out of it.

"delayed magic?" you didn't think that existed but the possibility hung in the air.

"there's no such thing as delayed magic."

"way to ruin our hopes and dreams, 'kaashi."

you stood there, with bokuto (still shaking the book, albeit less vigorously) and akaashi. you pursed your lips, wondering if you should try it one more time.

"maybe the magic was... postponed?" bokuto offered hopefully, now having discarded the book. akaashi sighed, tipping his head towards the sky before immediately looking down again because the sun was too bright to even admire the blue, cloudless sky.

"like a postponed train?" you added, trying to cling to the weak thread of hope bokuto provided. you looked around, trying to see if there were any fallen snowflakes you hadn't noticed but instead you just saw a figure in the distance.

"is that... a teacher?" you murmured, as he wasn't wearing hogwarts robes but it could've been a student as well. you weren't sure.

"that is not a teacher." akaashi squinted, not recognizing the man as one of the faculty members. he kicked the discarded book with his heel just in case though.

the man kept coming closer, and it was clearer to see his face now. short, dark hair, but it suited him. as well as a strong frame, not big like bokuto but firm and sturdy. tan skin, olive green eyes that glinted golden in the sun.

your eyes widened, who was this man? bokuto stepped in front of you as the man started going right up to you.

"what's your problem buddy?" bokuto was taller and larger, but somehow this stranger seemed more intimidating. his eyes shifted to you, partially obscured by bokuto.

"she's the one who called me." your jaw dropped at his statement, what the heck did that mean?

akaashi's eyes slid to yours, then to the book he kicked away. he hesitated before picking up the book, opening the first page. there it was, in big bold letters, RESTRICTED; NOT FOR STUDENTS.

"are you kidding me?" akaashi had targeted the question to you, making you spin around in confusion at his harsh tone. you winced when you saw him holding open the first page.

"well, you see. um, about that..." you trailed off, because you had really no explanation. i mean, yes, akaashi was a stickler for the rules but he enjoyed the occasional bending of them.

"you just conjured a person!" that made you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

"i did not."

"yes you did."

"no way."

bokuto interrupted, jerking his head towards the man you had supposedly conjured.

"um, what's your name?" you tried, hoping he was not somebody you just conjured out of thin air. you didn't even think that was possible. wasn't this against the rules of magic? oh no, did you just inadvertently dabbled in the dark arts?

"iwaizumi hajime." oh god, his voice. the soft, smooth letters wrapped in a dark velvet. hearing him felt like biting into a rich, layered chocolate.

your throat was dry by thinking you had probably just committed the biggest crime known to wizardkind.

"i thought we were gonna make it snow... not summon hot guys." you grimaced at bokuto's blunt words. but he was right. you're not quite sure how this happened even if you did use a restricted spell. was it really the dark arts?

"um, iwaizumi. do you know how you got here?" he slowly shook his head, crushing your spirit further.

"i was in another realm, i think." his words just confused you further.

"what do you mean by another realm?" akaashi questioned, rummaging through the book.

"it wasn't like this place, it was hazy like a dream." you looked up in frustration only to be blinded by the cause of your misery, the sun.

"we should get inside. it's too hot." you gesture them to follow you. the room of requirement should be perfect, since iwaizumi was not to be seen by anybody, especially a teacher.

"what is this place?" iwaizumi asked, his eyes scanning every inch of the room. bokuto nudged him, grinning, "it's awesome, isn't it?" he just nodded in response.

you sat down on the loveseat, akaashi taking a place next to you. iwaizumi kept standing, staring at you. despite being inside, you felt hotter than you did when you were trying to conjure snow.

"so what's the plan?" that was bokuto. only, after he asked the question, he yelped.

"quidditch! i'm late for practice. see you guys around. let me know what happened with the hot guy!" bokuto yelled, practically sprinting. you shouted to keep 'the hot guy' a secret but you weren't sure if he heard. praying that the head on his shoulders worked properly and he would have the common sense not to divulge the information, you turned to akaashi.

"so, what is the plan?"

"i can't believe you conjured a living, breathing person."

"please, you know i'm a genius." you fanned yourself, as if you were tired from greeting all your fans (you didn't have any sans bokuto and sometimes akaashi).

"are you going to unconjure me?" iwaizumi spoke up, his voice rattling you again. damn his sultry sounding voice, why did every word he let out feel like a plot to seduce you?

"well, you can't exactly live here," akaaashi said, gesturing him to sit down on one of the single seater sofas. he did, although reluctant.

"i see." was that it? a bit anticlimactic.

"um, well. is there an unconjuring spell, 'kaashi?" you leaned in closer to get a look of the pages. he flipped the pages quite fast, but you were sure you saw frog revivals on one of them. wizards were weird. but then again, frogs were cute so you couldn't exactly blame them.

"i think i'm going to have to speak with a professor."

"no! don't do that, we'll get in trouble!" your voice was a bit loud, startling both the boys.

"i won't mention iwaizumi, or you for that matter. it'll be alright, they know i wouldn't do anything illegal." the emphasis on the last word made you recoil, and you offered an apologetic smile.

"you should stay here with iwaizumi, just in case. keep him hidden." he had already stood up, the book in his bag and his face set in determination. he left the two of you, alone in the room of requirement.

you. alone. with a man. the man of your dreams. you often daydreamed, a strong man with a slight tan and a soft side reserved for you.

"i'm so sorry iwaizumi. i'm sure you don't want to be here." he tilted his head at your words, as if confused.

"why would you say that? i don't mind being here." his words made you splutter, coughing on your saliva. iwaizumi walked over to you in two long strides, stroking your back to relieve you of your coughing fit.

but that only made you warmer, his firm hands on your back. up, down, up, down. it felt insane. you knew the blood rushed to your cheeks, but you weren't sure if it was visible.

"um.. i'm fine now."

"okay." he didn't stop stroking your back. up, down, up, down. you were semi sure that your breathing was steady, so you turned to look at him.

"you realize that me conjuring you, accidental or not, is like a wizarding capital violation. um, basically if they think i summoned you with ill intent, i could be executed." when the words roll off your tongue, it puts everything into perspective. how deep you were in dogshit. very, very deep. the man in front of you suddenly went from the hot guy you accidentally conjured, into the reason you may not live a very long life.

"you didn't conjure me." was his response, his face was still blank but his eyes had softened and his tone was warmer. he had stopped stroking your back, letting his hand rest on your lower back, above your hips.

"what? you said i did. you told me i called you here."

"yes, you summoned me."

"what's the difference?"

"you didn't conjure me out of thin air. i already existed and you called me into your world. i'm sure you can send me back, if that's what you desire."

you bit your lips, the realization settling in. you were a little frustrated that he didn't say anything before but you can't really blame him. he was in an unfamiliar place with strangers that had summoned him for the heck of it - sure, you were trying to conjure snow but that's not what ended up happening.

"but akaashi took the book with him. i'm sure there's nothing about sending someone into another realm in the books available to students."

iwaizumi's eyes glittered, and his lips turned up into a devious smile. your breath hitched, and you swallowed down whatever was rising up. want. desire. a little bit of need? god, you were desperate.

"what about the books not available to students?"

"the restricted section? i can't go in there alone, my heart would hammer out of my chest. bokuto went in with me last time, and we were almost caught!" you were fretting, your eyes looking anywhere but him and that smile.

"who said you'd go alone?" his steady answer made you meet his gaze, his sure, dependable gaze. you breathed out, your shoulders relaxing.

"ok, let's go. and let's hope that akaashi doesn't return before we do."

you two made your way to the library, slipping in as stealthily as you could. it would be hell for you if you two were caught now. he was close behind you, and his presence enveloped you. the scent of ink and pages filled the air. the creaky floorboards were comforting too, though risking your stealthy mission.

"you must keep quiet, and stay close to me." you whispered, murmuring a spell shortly afterwards to open the door to the restricted section.

"i will." his mouth was somewhere near your ear and he must've bent slightly to whisper his affirmation. his lips grazed the top of your ear as he straightened and you had to close your eyes for a second just to gather yourself.

you moved ahead, sticking to the shelves and staying in the shadows. you heard muffled footsteps and your head whipped around to iwaizumi in alarm.

in one swift move, iwaizumi pushed into an alcove next to the shelves, cloaked in darkness. his hands were on either side of your head, resting against the wall. his breath was quickened, and yours was too. he turned to face you, his lips parting when he realized the position he was in.

the door clattered, and the sound made you panic and you did the most reasonable thing you could think; you gripped iwaizumi's shirt and pulled him closer into you. he let himself be pulled, crashing into you with a grunt.

"sorry. i panicked." your words were barely above a whisper, and you found it difficult to talk. you could see he was breathing hard, and now you doubted it was because he would get caught. his chest was hard, and sturdy just like you had thought when you first saw him walk towards you. and oh lord, his arms. he could put you in a headlock and you'd thank him.

"it's okay. are you okay?" the soft, velvety voice warmed you into a puddle. but you just nodded against him.

the noises stopped and you believed the coast was clear. although, you really didn't mind the position you were in. just as you were going to clear your throat in hopes of getting rid of this awkward tension, you felt his rough hands move from the wall to your jaw. the movement was gentle and your breath hitched.

you looked up at him, and his expression was soft. one corner of his lips was upturned, and you felt like honey in his hands. slowly, he leaned down, the air between you growing warmer. you could hardly believe what was happening, a small gasp escaping you.

"can i..." he started, "kiss you?"

you didn't trust yourself to reply, so you closed your eyes and pressed your lips on his. the suddenness of your actions made him groan, his other hand slipped down to wrap around your waist to pull you closer against him. your hands which were at your sides interlocked behind his neck.

breathless, you separated. his face was flushed, and a shy smile on yours.

"that was nice."

he chuckled at your words, but nodded.

"i think it was better than nice." he whispered against your mouth, catching your bottom lip with his teeth. you smiled, kissing him again. you could stay pressed up against him like this forever. forever? you opened your eyes mid-kiss, suddenly too aware of his mouth on yours, the softness of his lips, his callused fingertips that grazed your waist underneath your shirt. suddenly, it was all too much.

he felt you freeze up, eyes fluttering open and creating some distance between the two of you. you could see concern dancing in his eyes, but you were too overwhelmed to ease it. the very existence of this man could quite easily decimate your career, your life as you know it.

iwaizumi's mouth parted to say something, but he thought better of it, clearing his throat and putting in some more distance. he saw the hesitation, the regret in the way your eyebrows furrowed and your easy smile was displaced. he doesn't like people regretting to kiss him.

"we should find that book." his voice was heavy, not the same coarse velvet you heard earlier.

your mind felt hazy, thinking of the consequences and his lips. clearing your throat as if it could clear the desire that hung in the air, you pushed out of the alcove.

"the book should be around here," you started perusing the shelves, very aware of iwaizumi's presence. you could almost feel his irritation in his steps, exasperation coming off of him in waves.

your fingers brushed the spines, walking along the shelves and shelves of books collecting dust. iwaizumi stopped a few paces behind you, and his sudden lack of movement prompted you to stop and look at him.

"i think i found the book you're looking for," he murmured, looking into your eyes as he slid the book out of the shelf. he looked less annoyed and a bit more rueful actually. you swallowed down whatever emotion was rising up your throat, gently taking the book from his hands. your fingers grazed his, they were warm.

you opened the book, trying to find the spell. fingers tracing the old parchment, yellowed by its age, you couldn't keep your attention slipping towards the man in front of you. your lips still felt like they're on fire, and the place on your hips where his hands touched you feel warm.

"i think it's this one..." you showed the page to iwaizumi, "it says how to reverse a summon." he nodded, face twisting into something more solemn.

your hands shook as you muttered the phrase, embedding it into your mind. locking your eyes with his, you could almost taste the regret hanging in the air in dense clouds.

"sorry. for everything. i shouldn't have brought you here." your voice was just above a whisper but he heard you.

"not your fault. don't blame yourself." his fist clenched at his side in restraint, he couldn't not want to touch you. comfort you. the sight made you ache, but by now you had memorized the incantation.

there was no time for aching. it was time to send him back.

"revertus regressum."

"did you hear?" bokuto asked, slipping in between you and akaashi on a bench in the great hall. the professors never really minded when houses intermingled.

"hear what?" you pop a grape in your mouth, your face scrunching at the sour taste.

"apparently, there's a transfer student arriving." at this, akaashi perked up but mostly in confusion.

"at this time of the year?"

bokuto nodded, conspiratorially leaning in to whisper, "he's in our year."

scoffing, you muttered, "transferring towards the end of the year? he's obviously a troublemaker."

"that's rich coming from you; ten minutes ago, you asked bokuto to tag along when you'll steal a restricted book." akaashi's narrowed eyes made the blow sting more.

but before you could say anything, you saw him. black hair, olive green eyes, and a body you'd die to get your hands on. you swore you could only dream of men like that.

redirecting his gaze where you were looking, bokuto snapped his fingers in enthusiasm, "that's him! the transfer!"

you couldn't tear your eyes away, entranced in the way he moved. a little stiff, but confident. dominating.

"what's his name?" akaashi asked, tilting his head as he stared. there was something weirdly familiar about him.

"it was something like zumba," bokuto said, thinking hard. you made a face, swatting his arm, attention on him instead.

"the dance? are you serious? think harder." you were looking at bokuto as he tried to remember. you hadn't noticed that the transfer had stood up at this point.

"surely it was hazumi," his face made it sure that it was, in fact, not hazumi. light footsteps made their way towards you. akaashi's lips turned at the corners, and he kept eating.

"if i hit your head, will it come back to you?" you threatened, raising your arm.

"hey hey, let's not be violent," he said, trying to sound pacifying, "oh wait! i remember! it was iwa-"

"iwaizumi hajime."

you gasped. fuck me. his voice is like velvet.