#this was supposed to be a quick doodle but i wanted the fluff

[runeofnoweyr]

fluffy baby

[warrior-of-storms]

Current To-Do List (tangled threads edition)

Finish second draft of Investigation chapter 3 (then send it off to the beta(s))

Finish chapters 2 & 3 of if it would only get it through to you

Finish/edit Nobody's Son, Nobody's Daughter

Finish flip the record and start over

Plot/draft X-Men story

Plot/draft the WandaVision/Billy, Tommy, & America story

Visual timeline?

Patrol playlists

[the-kr8tor]

Okay, but like, what about Hobie x a reader who's like, super resilient? As in resistant to physical dmg. Like idk how to word it, but someone who like, accidentally chops of half her finger then is like, "Oh no, I'm fine :)" then puts rubbing alcohol on it. And he's just like freaking out like there's so much blood on the counter?? Idk, I just thought it'd be funny because I'm kinda like that irl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thank you so much for requesting!! I loved writing it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw injury, cw food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF.

A/N: a bit late for another Halloween fic lol it's still Halloween somewhere right? (Wrong)

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The cinnamon smelling cookies in the oven makes your stomach grumble. With your hands occupied with the pumpkin carving knives, you pout at the rumbling feeling. You and Hobie are speedily carving out pumpkins together during Halloween night. You would've done it earlier on your own but you wanted to carve them together with Hobie. Unfortunately, Goblin doesn't care about the holiday despite his pumpkin shaped bombs.

So you're carving away, chipping at the face you've doodled that Hobie lovingly told you that it looks eerily like you. Which earned him a face full of pumpkin guts thrown at him.

Hobie senses your hunger, and how you're carving away without care. “Love, it's not a competition.”

“I know, but the trick or treaters will be here any minute!” You huff, poking out a finished ‘eye’ in your pumpkin. One down, a few more shapes to go. “Besides, that movie we watched the other day fucked me up, I don't want to be murdered by a pumpkin demon for not having a jack o’ lantern on our doorstep.”

He chuckles, going around the counter and abandoning his own half finished pumpkin. “The little demon won't come ‘ere knowin’ that ‘m over ‘ere, lovie.” You give him a look as he slides his arms around your middle, chin perched on your shoulder as he rubs his chin on you lovingly. “‘sides, this was supposed to be fun, remember?” Pecking your cheek, you lean closer as he smothers your jaw in warm kisses. Who needs a chimney when you've got your walking furnace right beside you? “Slow down for me, yeah?” Whispering lowly in your ear that sends goosebumps on your arms, he rubs them away with an even warmer hand before he reluctantly moves away to check on the cookies.

“Yeah,” you say with a lovestruck smile, turning around to see Hobie bending down while cracking open the hot oven and shutting it off. “You're right, this is fun, Hobie.” You take the opportunity to ogle him with a tilt of your head. He senses your eyes on his behind of course, prompting him to quickly look over his shoulder, catching you mid turn as you pretend you weren't eyeing him down.

Hobie slides himself next to you on the counter, elbow placed on the cold tiles, chin resting on his palm with a smirk on his pretty lips. “Saw somethin' you like?”

You glance at him, trying to tamp down your laughter. “Well, your jack o' lantern isn't done yet, I don't like that.”

Hobie was about to steal a kiss right on your smug lips but the doorbell ringing and the unmistakable chime of children outside interrupts him. “Tight arse.” He says against your pursed lips before walking away to grab the bowl of candy on the table.

“Flat ass.” You call after him as he makes his way to the front door. He chuckles as he opens it, and the trick or treaters’ voices echoes inside.

Shaking your head with a grin, you continue to chip away at the pumpkin, following the zig zagged line of its serrated smile. As you chop and cut, you hear Hobie giving out candies.

“Nice costume, little man.” He says, and you're sure he's giving the kid a full sized chocolate bar based on the lilt of his tone. “Spider-Man himself would be jealous, eh?”

You wanted to see what the said costume looks like, so with a quick peek while you're cutting out the last bits of pumpkin, you smile at the kid's homemade costume. It's even complete with Hobie's signature spikes and leather vest. Your smile falters as you feel something warm trickle from the pads of your thumb, looking down, you see crimson ebb from your fingertip down into the jack o’ lantern’s grin.

“Oh.”

Hobie's senses tingle as he shuts the door with a quick farewell to the kid. Goosebumps rise on his nape, head blaring alarms in his ears. Turning around to see what his senses are pointing at, he almost drops the bowl of candy when he sees your blood flowing from your hand, pooling down on the white countertops.

“Shit, love.” He speed walks towards you, hands outstretched to cradle your bleeding finger. “What happened?”

“I nicked myself, I'm fine.” The amount of red flowing out from the cut says otherwise. “I just need to wash it.”

“Fuck, you're bleedin’ a lot.” He curses under his breath as he helps you towards the kitchen sink, opening the faucet to let the warm water wash the crimson away. “You alright? How do you feel?” The sink water quickly blends in with your blood as it goes down the drain.

“I'm fine—” Hobie's already grabbing a clean towel from the rack, “Hobie—” he's wrapping it around your finger, watching the blood stain the white cloth. “Don't worry, I'm really fine.”

“It won't stop.” His eyes widen at how fast the red overtakes the pristine cloth. “Shit,” he wraps it tighter, and you don't even hiss or groan. Flicking his worried eyes at you, he sees you shrug at him. “You don't feel that?”

“I told you, I'm fine.”

“Bein' fine and not feelin’ any pain ain't the same. What if you nicked a nerve or some shit?”

“I don't think so,” you take a peek at the now drenched cloth. “Can you grab me the alcohol, please?” You say, awfully calm about the blood you're quickly losing.

“Alcohol?!” He scoffs out, guiding you down on the dining chair, just in case you faint. “Love, that won't help the bleedin’, It'll hurt you more.”

You bat your lashes at him, smiling as if you're not bleeding profusely. “Please?”

He sighs, remembering the med kit you have in your cabinet for him whenever he comes home with various wounds after a harsh patrol. “No, I'll get a proper disinfectant.”

“But, alcohol works best on me—”

“No,” he chuckles nervously, feeling your warm crimson on his palms. “If this doesn't stop in a minute, ‘m bringin’ you to hospital.”

“It's just a cut, I need alcohol, that's all.”

Hobie stands up, hands on his hips. It's his turn to take care of you, no matter how stubborn you are. “Stay ‘ere, if you feel faint yell for me, yeah?”

You huff in your seat, surrendering to his coddling. “Okay,” he enters your bathroom, knowing what he's already rifling through. “I don't need stitches, Hobie!”

“If you keep bein' like this, I'll stitch you up.”

“Okay, doctor Frankenstein!” You blink away the sudden dizziness and black dots dancing in your vision. “Hey, Hobie.”

“Yeah?” He makes his way back to you with the med kit, senses blaring at him.

“I feel a bit light headed actually—” You fall forward, eyes rolling on the back of your head.

“Love—!” He catches you in time. Putting his arms around you to carry you in a bridal hold. Even with his thudding heart and heavy worry, he calmly brings you towards the front door. As he opens it, he's greeted by a group of costumed children, their screams of terror at your bloodied hand almost freezes him in place. “Shit, it's not—!” They run away from the house, still screaming in horror. “Damn it.”

As he carries you towards the car, he'll make sure you'll never hear the end of his teasing after you've come too and hopefully better after some treatment.

[hexxedghost]

Another NikPrice threadfic crosspost that I think @nekrosmos wanted a tag for. It was supposed to be fluff, then got a dash of angst. there was a suggestion for non sexual intimacy and a few other things and this is what came out as a result.

Price couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone away for Christmas. Admittedly, for the last decade he’d spent it working, normally keeping Simon company with the black cloud of grief that hovered around him.

But the over the last few years, that darkness had faded, and the last two years he’d gone with Soap up to their place in Scotland. Laswell and her wife had gone on a cruise, Gaz had his entire extended family popping round. Which had left Price alone on base. 

He and Nikolai hadn’t made plans, the new relationship between them still feeling new and fragile. It had started as just a physical thing, a quick and filthy release when they could catch a spare moment. 

Until Nik had asked him if that was all he wanted. When Price had floundered, Nik had rescued him, a strong hand pulling him above water as Nik told him he wanted more. And Price couldn’t say no to him. 

But he always felt like his clumsy attempts would fracture what they had, terrified Nik would realise his mistake and want to return to just secret whispers in the dark and hot skin against skin. 

He was idly doodling on discarded paperwork, until Nikolai had leaned a hip against the door frame and asked if he wanted to get out of the office. 

He’d assumed he meant down the pub for a drink, maybe a meal, or back to the flat for a quick shag. Instead, he found himself over a snowy hillscape, small twinkling lights of houses in the distance as they land the heli. 

“Thought we were going for a drink.” Price murmurs, slamming the door closed and stuffing his hands under his arms for warmth. 

“I have drinks in house.” Nikolai says, grabbing the bags, seeming completely unaffected by the flurries of snow that had started falling. Price grumbles and trudges after him, hissing as he enters the house. It’s dark, but at least it blocks the wind. 

“I’ll get the fire going.” Nik calls, dumping the bags near the door. Price just shuffles in place, trying to get the feeling back in his feet. He can hear Nikolai clattering around before there’s a bright flare of a match and the soft crackling of kindling catching alight. 

“Drink?”

“Please.” Price chatters, huddling around the fire as it slowly grows. He feels the chill leave his skin, his shoulders stopping the constant shuddering that made his teeth rattle. 

There’s a clink of glass behind him and Nik’s pressing a whisky into his hand. He takes a sip, the burn a welcomed sensation that warms his chest. 

“Ta.” he smiles, feeling his eyes crinkle. Nik knocks his glass against his, taking a sip and giving a happy sigh before lumbering back into the dimly lit cabin. 

“I’ll put food on, warm up first.” his voice comes out of the darkness, seeming closer as Price’s eyes strained to make out more than dim shapes. 

Price sank into a chair nearby, it’s a bit dusty, but it’s surprisingly comfortable all things considered. Probably another hideout of Nik’s. He’s long given up asking, letting Nik keep his mysteries. The man himself appears to be happily bustling away in the kitchen, finally have turned a light on. The bulb bare and has that yellow tinge Price associates with old homes, a bright triangle on the floor that lets him look around. 

Nik’s humming and the wind tearing past outside make for a background noise that makes him feel drowsy. His eyelids grow heavy and his chest dips to rest on his chin. Just for a few seconds. 

“John?” there’s a hand at his shoulder that makes him jerk awake violently, glass tumbling away with a long ringing noise. The hand stays, instead squeezing gently. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Shuddup.” he grumbles, sitting up and rubbing at his eye. “‘Ow long was I ‘sleep?” Nik doesn’t respond and when Price blinks up at him, he’s just smiling at him gently. “Wha’?”

“I didn’t realise you snored.” Nik says, resting a knuckle against Price’s cheek, “Is cute.” 

Price shoves out of chair, face burning. “Sod off.” he grumbles, glaring at the loud laugh Nik gives. 

“Hungry?” he asks easily, after he’s done laughing, leaning on the back of the chair with his forearm. 

“Could eat.” Price says, pulling his hat down over his ears to hide how red they are. Judging by the cheeky wink Nikolai gives him, he hasn’t succeeded. 

Dinner is a simple enough affair, most of it might be canned, but the whisky is good and plentiful. There’s a pleasant buzzing warmth in Price’s veins as they laugh over old memories, bottle half empty between them.

“Didn’t think you wanted to do anything, for Christmas, I mean,” John murmurs, pushing his glass around the table and tracing the condensation in its wake. 

“Didn’t want you alone in that office.” Nikolai says, hooking a leg with his under the table. Price shifts awkwardly and Nik frowns a bit. “Did you want to be alone?”

“I. no. Just…worried about messing this up.” the drink has loosed his tongue, secrets spilling like across the table in a spreading pool. There’s a warm hand on his and when he looks up, Nik’s eyes are bright and warm, though there’s a crease between his brows. Worried. 

“Why do you think this?” he asks gently, curling their fingers together. Price doesn’t know how to answer that simply. 

“Haven’t got a good track record, do I?” he smiles sadly. “A failed marriage and a successful career.”

“I know this about you.” Nik says, tracing the crease of his palm, his finger where his wedding ring had been worn a lifetime ago. 

“I’m a grumpy old git,” Price says stubbornly. 

Nik smiles, “I like that about you.”  

“Doesn’t mean you want to deal with it.” John counters glumly. 

“I do. I want this. You…Do you? I…” Nikolai draws his hand back slightly. “If you’ve changed your mind…I understand, I was quite…insistent.” 

There’s a seizing in Price chest hearing that. Not the words, but the doubt in Nik’s voice. Doubt and hurt that he’s put there. He grabs Nik’s hand and presses it to his lips, murmuring against the warm skin. 

“I do want this. Want you. Just don’t know how to…how to do that.” he stares at the table, unable to meet Nik’s eyes, just pressing the words as deep into the skin as he can. “You’re always so good at this, like it’s easy. But—”

“But…” Nikolai prods, looking at him intently, seeing through him in a way nobody else does.

“Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” he admits softly. 

“Like what? “ Nik questions, stroking Price’s face with the back of his hand. 

“Like I’m worth loving.” The words punch out of him, spending so long being trapped in his ribs. It hurts to say, but it feels wrong to hide such a painful truth from Nik. 

Nik’s hand stops moving when he says it. Price waits for it to pull away, to hear the hurt or suggestion they should maintain professionalism, just go back to keeping it between the sheets. 

Instead, when he looks up, Nik is smiling, “You think I don’t already?”

There’s something terrifying in that. That Nik had already made himself vulnerable, that the broken sharp pieces of Price could already threaten soft and tender flesh readily offered. Nik shifts his hand, so it’s cradling Price’s face. 

“I do not say this, for a return. I say this because it is true. You revealed your truth. I wanted to reveal mine.” his thumb runs along Price’s jaw, and he closes his eyes at the feeling. 

“I’m not good at this, Nik.” he says to the dark behind his eyelids. 

“I don't need you to be good.” Nik voice is close, breath whispering against his lips, “I only ask that you be you.” 

There’s the taste of whisky, when Nikolai closes the gap and kisses him. It’s slow and sweet, and it feels like it’s breaking John apart from the inside. 

He twists his hands in Nik’s shirt and pulls him closer, scraping with teeth and fire, but Nik stays, gentle. No matter how much Price tries to put aggression into it, tries to pull them away from the soft and tender feelings in his chest that scare him. Price rests his head against Nik’s shoulder with a sigh, shivering as Nik dragged his teeth along his neck, punctuating each mark with a kiss. 

“Nik,” he sounds like he’s pleading, but he doesn’t know what for. His heart feels bruised, his eyes feel damp as he presses harder into Nikolai’s shoulder. 

“Let me take you to bed, John.” the words are deep and husky, breath hot against his skin. Price nods against his shoulder, throat too tight to form words anymore. 

Nik gathers him to his feet, mouth still pressing, biting, marking, pulling clothes aside for more skin. There’s a trail of clothes behind them by the time Nikolai presses him into the sheets. 

“Let me take care of you,” Nik asks, eyes dark and blown wide as he trails his mouth along Price’s hip. “Please.”

“Fuck, Nik.” Price groans, blood pooling low in his belly, the slow fire crawling up his spine.  

“No, no thinking. Only feeling.” it could sound teasing, but it doesn’t, there’s a warm curl around the words that make the weight of them settle gently. Price spends every day at his job, ignoring fear. This should be easy. 

Nikolai sucks a bruise into his hip, tongue laving over the purpled skin, before nosing at Price’s lower belly.  It’s heady, and addicting, and perfect. 

And his mind won’t shut up. Still dragging him back to that sharp shard of fear lodged deep in his heart that this will all fall to ruin. And Price doesn’t know if he can cobble together the pieces of himself again. 

He falls back with a sigh, covering his eyes with an arm. “Sorry, Nik.”

Nikolai shifts up on his knees, leaning forward and catching Price’s mouth with his. Price brings his arms up, tries to get with the program, hands dropping to Nik’s waistband. 

But instead, Nik takes his hands, entwining their fingers and pressing them into the mattress. And just kisses him, long and sweet. 

It’s…strange just kissing. Even in his head, that sounds daft. But it does. Normally they fall into bed, biting and panting into each other's mouth to reach an end goal, as a step, foreplay. It’s odd to just…enjoy it. 

There’s something knocked loose in his chest with it. As Nikolai nuzzles his throat, murmuring sweet words he can’t understand into his skin. Price pulls him back up, resting their foreheads together. 

“D’you want help with that?” he asks, nodding to where he can feel the hard length of Nik’s cock pressing into his thigh.

“No, I’m happy with just this.” Nik rumbles, dragging their mouths back together. 

-

Price doesn’t know when he fell asleep. He’s not used to waking up with someone else in the bed.  

Before the day Nikolai had asked for more, Price had always left after sex. Too skittish and nervous to let himself hope for more, too rattled at grappling with what it all meant. So there were things he’d never noticed. 

Nikolai…was a cuddler. More of a grappler really, in his sleep. Price shifts, but Nik’s hold is like iron, the sleeping man nuzzling into his neck and mumbling sleepily. Price rolls his eyes, but there’s a warmth in chest as he reaches up and tangles their fingers together. The fire had burned down sometime in the night, and as much as the blankets helped, Nik being a furnace was probably the only thing stopping him shivering. 

As he looks at the snow drifting past the window, he remembers the date. 

“It’s Christmas.” he murmurs. 

Nik mumbles into his neck. “Mhm?”

“I didn’t get you anything.” Price says, looking over his shoulder, Nik blinking at him. 

“You did.” he says, voice still soft with sleep. 

“No I bloody didn’t.” Price says, shifting up on his elbow to look down at him. Nik grins, and drags him down for a kiss, placing his hand over Price’s chest, where his heat skips a beat. 

“This.” he says softly “I only want this”

[vitentia]

SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY .lıllıl.

pairings ━━ best friend!ellie x oblivious!reader (no fem pronouns but female anatomy)

warnings ━━ swiftly solved miscommunication, fluff, mention of throwing up

synopsis ━━ PART 2 of BAGS ━━ after that game night at Ellie’s your friendship had been…awkward to say the least. you’d try to catch her in passing to say hello but she’d be so busy she would just give you a quick hello and keep walking. you just couldn’t understand why after all that talk about not leaving you alone, was she doing the opposite. but maybe it’s for the best, maybe you should start moving on.

playlist ━━ glue song by beabadoobee ft clario ,

“And we live in The United States of America, specifically right here in Wyoming which is a…”

“State!” The small children answered unanimously.

“Good job everyone! High fives all around.” You exclaimed, holding your hands down for the children to slap. A knock on wood caught your attention.

You looked up and saw Maria walking over to you, waving to the children sitting on the floors with a kind smile.

“Hey Maria.”

“Hey hun, can we talk for a second?” She gestured to a more secluded corner in the makeshift school room, you agreed and followed her nervously.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, of course not. I just wanted to let you know there’s been a switch, Cyrus is gonna take your patrol for this week so consider it a free day. Not many of those going around.”

Your mouth fell open. “But I thought I was supposed to do a double with Ellie.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, this was kind of a last minute switch so you’d be taking Cyrus’ place with Ellie next week for a supply run.” She suggested upon noticing your downturned expression.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed solemnly. Maria rubbed your shoulder and walked back out the double doors, leaving you alone in your own self pity. Even though you were bitter about her ignoring you, you thought this new patrol pairing would give you the chance to confront her without talking yourself out of it, again. And now all that planning was spoiled.

Your misery was short cut by the children, as per usual.

“Bye bye teacher!”

Called out the children as they packed up their papers and pencils and ran out the doors, you called out a goodbye but by then they were all scattered out. You sighed to yourself before noticing one little boy still sitting in his floor spot and scribbling some doodles on his paper. Crouching beside him, you decided to start a conversation in that high pitched voice best used to talk to kids.

“Wow, this drawing is amazing, where do you learn how to do it?”

He smiled bashfully and continued his pencil coloring. “My sister showed me.”

“Is your sister coming to pick you up or would you like me to walk you home?”

He shook his head, his bowl cut hair swaying back and forth along with it. “Nu uh, my big sister is picking me up today. She draws really nice.”

“Mhm, well, how about we wait for you sister outside, yeah?” You proposed, holding your hand out for him to take and standing up with him.

Just then, rushed footsteps came barreling into the school room and a short haired, out of breath Asian girl comes into the room.

“Sorry I’m late!” She took a couple more breaths and held her hands on her knees. “Jesus, this school needs a bell or something.”

You chuckled at her and brought the boy over to the porch outside the school where she greeted him. “I’d rather not ring the dinner bell, Cat.”

She stood to her full height and brought the young boy under her arm, purposely messing up his hair. “Wassup lil man? Did ya learn anything?”

Despite her teasing, he excitedly looked up at her and showed her his drawing. “Yeah! I learned what a state is!”

“Oh yeah? What state are we in now?” She quizzed him

“Jackson!” He proclaimed proudly.

She raised her eyebrows up and looked at you. “Wow! You must’ve had an amazing teacher then, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and nudged her shoulder. “He does. Kids get confused sometimes.”

“Mhm, totally.” She nodded sarcastically. “Ready to get some grub, bud?”

“Yup!” He responded happily and looked up at you, “Aren’t you hungry, teacher?”

“Uh, yeah I think I need something to cheer me up.”

“Well then, let’s get a move on, people.” Cat clapped her hands together and placed one behind her brothers back to guide him in the right direction as you followed next to her.

A cool breeze whistling past you seemed like the only noise for a few minutes as you each decided who should speak first, you sighed to yourself, feeling melancholy as the thought of summer leaving earlier than you wanted passed you by.

“So, what’s got you down?” Cat spoke up first.

You looked up from the ground, surprised. “Oh, uh, I was supposed to be on patrol this week but Maria pushed it back.”

She made a funny face at you. “Wow, you might be the only person in Jackson who complains about not being on patrol and getting a day off.” You both chuckled lightly at her words but you couldn’t help how quickly your mind flashed Ellie’s face for a second.

“Not the only one.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Yeah, no, not the only one. You and Ellie love being outside these walls, I still don’t get why.” You flinched at her name coming out of her mouth, not expecting the girl to just speak about her ex so openly after their breakup.

“I guess I feel…stuck sometimes. I don’t know…” You shrugged, looking down at your feet as you reached the outside of the cafeteria.

“Well, hey, if you’re gonna feel trapped for having a day off you might as well enjoy the good food that comes with it, right?” She said in an attempt to cheer you up.

You held the door open for the two as your eyes drifted away, meeting a pair of familiar green ones that nearly froze time for a second. Ellie raised her hand to wave at you, a role you usually took on, and received a tight lipped smile from you before entering the cafeteria.

Guilt ate you up as you went to sit down but Cat drifted all your worries away while you spoke. She made hilariously dry jokes and you laughed at both the irony and the contorted faces her brother made when he found the joke stupid and for a minute, Ellie didn’t invade your mind.

It felt nice talking to someone other than your usual two friends and had you crossing your fingers for a chance to start a new chapter in your life. A chapter without you hopelessly pining after Ellie for your entire teenage years.

☼

By the time you stepped into the next week, you had managed to shove your feelings for Ellie down into a tight hole of dirt and misery in order to continue with your assignment. You barely slept the night before, too busy coming up with outrageous scenarios that would never happen and freaking out over the lingering thoughts of her lips on yours. None of it was good and all of it felt disastrous.

Your movement were sluggish and slow as you packed all the essential items you needed for the journey, purposely trying to avoid seeing her face earlier than necessary.

Unfortunately, that had an opposite effect.

“Hey.” Ellie greeted you with a small smile when you opened your front door. “You ready?”

You released the breath you held every time you saw her face and nodded, picking your bag up off the floor and walking out with her. The two of you walked in silence towards the stables for a minute, each wanting to speak first but neither having the balls to actually do so.

“Did…” you mentally cursed yourself for breaking the silence first, “did Maria tell you exactly where we’re going?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Ellie fumbled behind herself for the short pockets of her book bag before finally pulling out a neatly folded map. She opened the map to its full extent and leaned closer to you to point to your destination.

“Yellowstone National Park?” You read out carefully. “What kind of supplies are we gonna find in a…park?”

“A National park.” Ellie emphasized, stepping into the stables to greet Shimmer.

“Okay, what are we gonna find in a National park?” You questioned, reaching down to grab a rope and saddle for your horse until Ellie stopped you, her hands hovering over yours.

“Wait! Uh, Maria said only one horse for this supply run.”

“You’re joking.” You deadpanned.

She shrugged, “Sorry.”

Reluctantly agreeing, you following Ellie on the opposite side of Shimmer towards the front gates where patrol officers sat in their seats fighting sleep. The purple and gold hue that fell over Jackson from the quarter rising sun would’ve made you lull into a sleep, had it not been for the short brown haired girl that clogged your mind like a bad sinus infection.

You snagged an apple from a nearby bucket and shoved it in your pocket before snapping the patroller out of his sleep and announcing your leave. He called for others to open the gates as you took your seat behind Ellie on the horse, hesitantly wrapping your arms around her waist.

Again, silence overcame the two of you, begging to be addressed.

But for the first time in a long time, Ellie spoke first.

“I’m…I…” she sighed, seemingly frustrated.

“Take your time.” You said in a teasing tone.

“Shut the fuck up.” She snickered, giving you quick look over her shoulder before facing the open road once more. “I’m trying to apologize for…you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Oh, fuck off, you’re really gonna milk this, aren’t you?”

You smiled happily and placed your chin on her shoulder. “I am.”

She rolled her eyes but continued. “I’m sorry for, you know, ignoring you these past few days, but in my defense I had very good reason.”

“Which is?”

“I can’t say.”

You clicked your teeth and lifted your head off of her, “Fuck you.”

Ellie chuckled under her breath and the three of you, including Shimmer, pushed forward on your trek. However, this time was different. There was no lingering sense of resentment on your end and no awkward tension on hers. It was rare you two argued or ever stopped talking for an extended period of time but when you did, it would only take mere minutes to rekindle what was there before.

Ellie hated communicating properly and you loved making her, it’s how you two flowed.

The trip there would only last a day but sitting behind Ellie on Shimmer, your eyes falling forward and your cheek leaning on her shoulder for support as you both swayed side to side was a time that you deemed immeasurable. If this was the only way you could have her, you’d treasure it. Ellie as a friend is better than going without her at all.

☼

“Morning sunshine.” Ellie said with a laugh after holding your nose closed and causing you to wake up with a sharp inhale.

“Oh ha ha, dick.” You huffed and kicked her in the leg.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” She cursed dramatically.

“Yeah, not so funny anymore, is it?” You laughed at her and got out of your sleeping bag, cracking your bones like a grandma and packing it all up again. “Where’d you put Shimmer?”

“In the garage because we,” she placed her hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “are walking.”

Your excited smile dropped into a straight line, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

You groaned and threw your down into your palm. “And how long are we walking for?”

She pretended to think, “Mhm, about three ho-“

“Three hours?!” You shouted, looking at her in shock.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t done before.” She shrugged and bent down to throw your bag over her shoulder. “Besides, I let you sleep in and according that clock right there, it is about…9:30.” She pointed at a grandfather clock nearby.

You looked between her and the clock. “Do you even know how to read a clock?”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

You groaned but followed beside her through the wildlife, barely coming across any infected but managing to witness a few squirrels here and there scurry past you in a frenzy. Ultimately, you two ended up in front of what you assumed to be a ticketing or entrance area with flyers and brochures splayed out wildly.

“Welcome to Yellowstone National Park.” Ellie read the large sign and picked up one of the brochures still sitting neatly in a box, flipping it open and gathering an accent of sorts. “Let’s get a move-on, darlin’”

“Please tell me you’re not going to do that this whole time.”

She gave you an offended look, “What? You don’t appreciate some good lo’ southern hospitality?”

You stared at her for a second before shaking your head and walking ahead. “It’s neither southern nor hospitable. Think more…ear crushing?”

Her jaw dropped, “Oh you are mean. You are a mean mean girl, darlin’.” You giggled at her continuation but covered it up with a groan.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya, too, darlin’. As your tour guide today, I simply must inform you that these here waters are highly dangerous and some are even acidic enough to burn the flesh off that pretty little skin, and we certainly do not want that.” Ellie read off the brochure, tugging your ear in her direction to get your full attention.

You were lucky you’re out in the open or else your increased body temperature couldn’t be blamed on anything more than pure embarrassment and attraction.

“Ow! Bullshit, there’s no way it can burn off flesh. It’s just water.” You shrugged, pulling your head away from her and wearily looking over at the clear blue lake you were nearby.

“False! See here it says some hot springs can reach up to 198 degrees Fahrenheit, and I don’t know about you but I do not want to swim in that.” She pushed heavily into her fake southern accent and read off the brochure as if she needs glasses.

You snickered. “Surprised you can swim at all.”

She chose to ignore your comment and carry on with her little bit. “Here look, map says we’re approaching one right now.”

Ellie grabbed your hand without warning and pulled you in the direction of the boulders that surrounded the running lake to get a closer view. The lake spanned for miles in both directions and connected to a river, making its color crystal blue and giving it a smooth current.

“Are you sure this is a hot spring? Looks pretty normal to me.” You asked, leaning down to get a closer look but being weary of the boulders edge.

“Yeah look, says right here.” She pushed the brochure in your direction and when you turned your head in its direction, you felt an abrupt tug on your jeans.

Tripping over your own feet, your hands landed on Ellie’s shoulders as your legs entangled together, the only reason your remained upright being because of her. You nearly lost your breath, clutching her biceps in shock and a little bit of fear.

“Woah, careful there. Wouldn’t wanna fall in, darlin’.” She joked, your noses nearly touched until you registered her words and leaned back slightly.

“Didn’t you say this water is dangerously hot?” You whispered, unavoidably flickering your eyes between her green ones and her lips.

“I did.” She couldn’t fight back the mischievous smile that grew on her face as she took your moment of vulnerability and took a large step backwards with you in her arms.

Ellie tightened her arms around your waist as you stumbled into the water with her, the initial spike difference in temperature causing you take an unwanted breath in and sucking in a bunch of water. You pushed yourself off the rocky ground and swam up to the surface with Ellie right in front of you, holding you up by your waist as you choked out all the water in your lungs.

When it didn’t subside once you reached the top, Ellie grew concerned.

“Are you ok-“ before she could finish her question, her head was ruthlessly dunked underwater and water immediately sprung up her nose.

When she rose to the top, her hands never straying from their position, you two were in the same boat. Coughing and laughing.

“Okay, maybe I deserved that.” She said as rubbed the water out of her eyes.

“Maybe? You told me this water could kill me, you asshole.”

Ellie shrugged and drifted her hands lower, resting them under your thighs and pulling you higher up on her stomach, the water giving leeway to her skinny stature. If you were blushing, you wouldn’t know and you hoped she doesn’t either but you couldn’t help but avoid eye contact.

“I thought we were supposed to be on a supply run.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on the soft water flowing by your bodies gently. The cold temperature turning warm from your furnace of a body.

“Actually, this is the reason.”

“What?”

Nervously, she dripped her lips under the water for a second before rising back up and holding her gaze onto your eyes. “The reason I’ve been so standoffish recently is because I was planning this whole trip.” Your jaw dropped. “After you told me about your bad experience at the lake I decided to do something better. For you. Give you a happier time to think about than that.”

She smiled but was met with a splash to the face

“Wh…why didn’t you tell me, you dick. I thought you were…I don’t even know, I thought you were flaking on me after I spilled my guts.” You rambled on but Ellie just laughed.

“That would defeat the purpose of a surprise, genius. Besides, this was supposed to happen later this week but then I saw you hanging my ex and I thought it’d be better to push it forward.”

You blinked, “What? What does Cat have to do with this?”

“She was taking your attention away from me, of course. Can’t have that.” Ellie joked, but you weren’t laughing.

Instead you unwrapped your arms from around her neck and let them fall loose around her shoulders.

“That’s not funny.” She gave you a confused look. “So, you admit you string me around like some lost puppy on purpose? And for what? Personal enjoyment?”

“Hang on, I-“

“Jesus Ellie, I-I’ve had a crush on your for, god knows how long questioning whether you were just naturally this nice or if you liked me back and-and, what? You just do this because you can? Because I let you?” You confessed accidentally, so caught up in your own anger you didn’t realize what you said.

Ellie called out your name and pushed you closer to her chest, making sure your eyes connected so you can see the seriousness in hers. “Hey, stop. That’s not what’s going on, like, at all. I don’t string you along just for fun, not that kind of fun anyways. I do like you, I like you and the love you show me. I like when you follow me around because it makes me feel special to you, I like when you do everything I say because maybe if somebody like you likes me, I can pretend I’m not as useless as I really am.”

“Woah-“

“And I like when you protect me from myself because I’m extremely self destructive and my whole life would fall apart if you don’t love me the way I love you.” She cut you off.

The lake water took a stand still, waiting for you answer as crowds of birds flew by in the sky above and called out to you below. For a minute, the whole world came to a stand still. Just you and Ellie, like always.

“Not as a friends?” You sniffled

She chuckled and looked down before meeting your eyes again, “Definitely not as friends. Unless you wanna be friends that do this.” Ellie tightened her grip around her thighs and waist and pressed her salty lips against yours, distracting herself so badly she nearly forgot to keep herself afloat.

You giggled at the water going up her nose again and how it forced her to pull away to cough. Your hands found purchase around her neck again. “No friends. Just you and me.”

“Anything you want darlin’.” She said in her terrible southern accent.

You rolled your eyes but laughed regardless. “Enough with the accent, I beg.”

“It’s good!”

“It is not!”

I tried to tag people but idk how tumblr works so here we are!👐

[happy-beeeps]

Art for Art's Sake

WC: 2.3k

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Summary: You've always loved to doodle Hunter, but what happens when he finally catches you?

Warnings: none! pure fluff! There's like one suggestive line at the very end.

He’s heard it for weeks now, the sound that's rubbing against his brain. It’s subtle, something he’s sure only he can hear, and it originates from the corner booth you’re occupying. You’ve got your legs thrown up onto the table with your back in the corner, Tech at your right tapping away on his datapad and chatting your ear off about their most recent mission. Hunter is so envious of his brothers’ relationships with you, how easily they come. You and Tech are like two peas in a pod, your friendship quick and steadfast. It’s hard not to love you, he admits to himself, and he wonders if he’s the reason you’re so quiet around him, if he makes you nervous. It’s not for lack of trying on either of your parts, he can feel the way your pulse quickens when you touch hands, and he knows himself well enough that you occupy his thoughts most every day.

“Stop staring, you’re gonna freak her out,” Echo chides, slipping easily into the stool next to Hunter.

“Not staring, just listening to Tech.”

“That's worse,” he laughs, sipping the drink he holds in his hand. “She’s our friend, why don’t you just go talk to her.”

“She’s your friend.” Hunter states, matter of fact. Echo rolls his eyes before setting the drink down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I feel like she hates me.”

Echo is staring at him now, mouth agape. “I thought you were supposed to be the one with the enhanced senses.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s got everything to do with it,” he inclines his head to where you’re sitting. You’ve been peeking over at the two of them, and when Hunter lifts his gaze to see where Echo is looking, you blink wildly before focusing back on your lap, back at that noise he can’t quite discern. “She keeps looking at you.”

He scoffs. “So? I make her nervous. She hates me.”

“Yeah, that’s the whole point.” He stands up and punches his brother lightly in the shoulder. “She likes you.” Echo leaves Hunter at that, walking over towards the booth you’re at. He hears him greet you, then asks Tech to take a look at something back on the Marauder. Tech, always one step ahead but two steps behind, looks confused at the insistence, but relents when Echo practically hauls him out of his seat. The two of them walk past Hunter, and Echo pauses. “Stop being weird. Go say something to her.” 

Omega and Wrecker have long left the cantina in search of snacks, leaving you and Hunter alone, save for a few gamblers and Cid, the latter of which is occupied with an intense conversation on holo with her ale supplier. Hunter heaves a sigh, downs his drink and makes his way to you where you’re sitting, your eyes wide as you watch his moves toward you.

The sergeant makes you nervous. Like, really nervous. When you had met the batch on their first night in Ord Mantell, you had to resist the urge to yelp when you locked on to his intense stare. Sure, the months that have since passed have made way for some of the best friendships you’ve ever had, and of course you appreciate them bringing you on to tutor Omega. Poor girl needs a teacher. You find yourself counting down the hours for their return when they’re off world, or spending long hours chatting in hyperspace when they bring you with. They’re just a nice group of people.

That’s not to say Hunter isn’t nice. He is. He’s respectful and courteous and he always offers you a drink and pulls out your chair when you’re sitting with them, but that’s it. And it’s gnawing at your gut because despite it all, you really like him. Disregarding the fact that he’s got the ruggedly handsome looks of the holostars of your youth, he’s also fascinating. He’s smart, calculating, and serious. You want to crack him open like a book and find out what makes him tick. Plus, you’re certain he’s aware of your feelings, and that’s why he can’t stand to be in the same room as you.

Echo was the first to find out actually, when he caught you unprepared, head peering over your shoulder and looking into your sketchbook.

“Didn’t know you were into drawing.” He stated, and you slammed your sketchbook shut with a fright.

“You could give a girl a heart attack sneaking up on her like that.”

He laughed before settling in next to you. “What’s got you all jumpy?”

Just then, Hunter had returned from the office with Cid, a rare smile on his face, one hand hanging off his hip just right. Echo looked at the sight of his brother, then back at your dopey grin. “Oh. I get it.”

You’re daydreaming now, staring into nothing and thinking about that image, so lost in your imagination that you don’t realize that he’s actually in front of you now, pulling a chair backwards up to your table before sitting on it, legs straddling each side of the backing. You’ve never been more focused on anything in your life than you are at keeping your gaze on his face, and not the way his legs hang lazily open, confident and powerful.

“What's that sound?” He asks, no, states. His voice is like melted butter, and you feel like someone hit a factory reset button on your brain.

“Hello to you too.” You say, tucking your sketchbook back into your bag, leaning your chin on your hands.

“Right, sorry. Hi.” He reaches an arm out behind his head and scratches his hair, smiling slightly and  looking almost bashful for a moment. “Sorry, don’t want you to think I’m being weird. Just can’t figure it out.”

“Well, can you describe it?” You ask, genuinely puzzled now. If this is what it takes to get Hunter to talk to you then fine, you’ll play the game.

“It’s a scratch, sorta. I can’t hear it now. But I’ve been hearing it for weeks, and it’s always by you.”

“Oh? Paying attention to me are you?” You chide, but the way his gaze holds yours makes you suck your breath back in your throat.

“I always pay attention to you.”

You’re both staring at each other now, your eyes wide in shock and his in panic. Did he just-

“Oh gods, I’m sorry, that was weird.”

You smile and shake your head, “No, no it’s not. I get what you mean.”

“Right.” He smiles again, like that rare one you saw a while back and pulls out his datapad. “Mind if I join you? Seemed like you might like the company.”

You bite your lip trying not to burst into a grin. “Not at all, table’s yours.”

The two of you pass the time in a comfortable silence when you decide to risk it. You cautiously, carefully pull out your sketchbook and charcoals, continuing on the page you had left off. His tattoos are much easier to sketch from this distance, and you rarely get the chance to see him up close. You’ve barely begun to scratch across the flimsi in the book when his gaze shoots up, his eyes wild as he looks up at you. “That’s the noise.”

Your cheeks are burning now as he lunges toward the book, not maliciously you know, but your reaction time isn’t quick enough. He’s got your sketchbook now, and begins flipping through the pages.

“Do you… do these yourself?”

You nod, silently, eyes wide as you watch him flip through the pages. Nothing really incriminating is in the first few pages, and you’re hoping he bores himself before he gets too far. “Keeps me busy when the students are testing.” It’s not a lie. You had started drawing in your classroom, but your subject had switched from landscapes to portraits the second you had met the batch. You think you might escape as he slows down turning, when he hits the first page.

“Hey, it’s Wreck!” He grins, holding the book closer to his face. “You got his scar and everything just right.”

“Thank you, Hunter, but can I have it-”

“This one of Tech and Echo is great too. You’re really talented mesh’la.”

“Hunter…” your voice trails off into a near beg as he flips the page, and you watch in horror as his cheeks slowly turn as red as his bandana, and his fingers ghost over the page. You know which one he’s on, the first time you had drawn him. He was sleeping against the back wall of the cantina while you watched Tech and Wrecker play sabacc. His hair was slightly tousled, and you were seated on the tattooed side of his body, and relished the challenge of the shading and detail. In the end, it was a really pretty picture. The issue being just that–he was so fun to draw you couldn’t stop.

There were only two more drawings after the first, one of him and Omega and the other the more detailed piece you had been working on. You had your head in your hands and refused to look at him fully, allowing yourself to peek through one partially unobscured eye between your fingers. What you saw wasn’t disgust or embarrassment on Hunter’s face, but something new, something foreign. He looked at you thoughtfully for a moment before something seemed to click in his brain, and he settled comfortably in the chair. You watched as he carefully plucked at the fingers of the glove on his left hand, before setting it down on the table in front of you. The now uncovered hand moved to rest closer to you, fingertips touching yours.

“Figured I could give you something new to draw.” 

Your eyes widened as you looked over at him, and the smile he gave you made you want to blossom into something new, it filled you with an inexplicable warmth. You looked at the newly exposed skin, and watched as he flexed his fingers. You hadn’t realized the tattoos appeared to cover the entirety of his left side, and couldn’t help but move to trace the bony fragments and ligaments inked onto his skin.

“Did it hurt?”

He shrugged, moving his fingers along yours in a dance as you explored the newfound territory of his hand. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure of it,” you snorted and took the book from his hand. “I’m sorry… for invading your privacy like that.”

“It’s an honor to be considered worthy of your talent.” The statement dripped in something akin to adoration, but he stated it plainly, as if it was the truest thing in the world. He moved your hand onto his wrist, where he used it to gently push the sleeve of his tunic up his forearm. Slowly but surely, more and more black inked bones made themselves visible to you. “If I had an ounce of your talent, I don’t think I’d ever stop drawing you.” You looked up from where you were focused on his arm, and hadn’t realized how close you two were leaning. His eyes looked into yours with such a focused intensity you weren’t sure how you hadn’t melted on impact. The hand not holding yours moved to cradle the side of your face as he looked at you cautiously. “I’m sorry for being so off-putting.”

“You’re not off putting,” you whispered, leaning into the cradle of his hand, “‘m just shy.”

“You don’t need to be, not with me.” His eyes left yours for just a fleeting moment, wandering to look at your lips. “Is this okay?”

“Better than okay,” you breathed, and he smiled at the response, surging closer to you and closing the gap in a flash of lips and the tiniest, over eager clink of teeth. Hunter tasted like cinnamon and something warm and spicy, like the smell of bourbon and a sweet dessert, but also something heavy and leather. He moved to cradle the back of your head as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you still hadn’t convinced yourself this was even real. How long had you been pining for him, hoping for this day? You weren’t letting a moment go to waste, and your hand moved up to feel the soft tresses resting along his neck, weaving your fingers on his skull. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that until the moment was broken by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Very close to you.

Cid was standing at the table, hands on her hips, shooting daggers into both of your faces. “Look, kid, I let it happen because I’m tired of this ‘will they, won’t they,’ but I ain’t running a brothel. Don’t make me get the broom.” You blushed again and Hunter let out a breathy sigh, but simply smiled at Cid. 

“Can’t promise it won’t happen again.” He handed her a few credits for his tab and a tip, and stood around the table reaching for your hands. “Wanna go someplace quiet?”

Please. You’d go sit in a trash compactor if he kept looking at you like that. “Okay.”

He pulled you up, an arm snaking around your waist as the two of you left the cantina, feeling less like two stubborn adults and more like the lovesick kids you saw in classes. You had finally caught your breath when he took the moment to lean down close to your ear. 

“You know… I’ve got more tattoos I could show you?”

[notyourjaem]

— CHERRY BLOSSOMS & 7/11 ☆ CSB

summary: soobin is on a break from tour, so you both escape to japan for a few days.

pairing: idol!soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

warnings: ehhh none. they are just tooth numbingly sweet.

authors note: can you tell that I’m reeeeeally pushing the soobin sweetheart boyfriend agenda lol. this was kind of inspired by his japan vlog, and I added my own twist with some of my own knowledge of Japan. this reminded me that my Japanese isn’t going to study itself, and soobin if you see this and think you’re slacking, I’m probably slacking harder.

quick links: masterlist | taglist | send a request

–

“I think I’m going to do some things on my iPad. Maybe draw.” You spoke, reaching for your bag that you set onto the floor.

“I might read.” Soobin answered. “I bought a new book a few days ago to read on this flight.”

Soobin was on a break from tour right now, and you both decided it was a perfect time to take a trip to Japan for a few days for some alone time.

The flight wasn’t very long; only two and a half hours. It was roughly an hour in, both you and Soobin keeping yourselves occupied. you were listening to music and doodling on your iPad while soobin was reading his book.

You drew a cute little doodle of Soobin’s hedgehog, Odi as well as a bunny with a carrot. Smiling to yourself at how cute it was, you turned to show Soobin, but realized that he was fast asleep.

His arms were crossed in his lap and his head tilted to the side. You always thought it was cute how his nose sometimes whistled when he was asleep.

“Soob.” You quietly spoke, picking up his book and bookmarking the spot he left off on.

He hummed without opening his eyes, and shifted in the seat.

“You almost lost your spot in your book.” That made him open his eyes, and pick it up.

“I got so tired all of a sudden.” Soobin laughed at himself. “I didn’t sleep good last night. I was too excited.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever slept on a plane.” You answered. “It’s hard for me to get comfortable.”

Soobin tousled his blonde hair, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He leaned over to look at your iPad. “What are you drawing?”

“Just random things. Look I was going to show you this, but you were asleep.” You pointed to the doodles of Odi and the little bunny.

Soobin’s smile was so big. “Aw, you drew my Odi! I miss him.”

He swiped through your other drawings. One of a plant, two cats, but then he stopped on one that was a cartoonish drawing of a boy with blonde hair.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Soobin questioned.

“Yes.” You responded, smirking. “You weren’t supposed to see that one.”

Soobin was smiling. “No no no it’s cute. You’re cute.” He kissed your temple, making you giggle.

It wasn’t long after that, the plane arrived, and you both got off, and found your bags.

“Should we get a taxi or take the train?” Soobin asked you as you walked away from baggage claim.

“A taxi will be too expensive from the airport. we can just buy train tickets.” You answered, making him nod; his blonde hair bouncing as he did so.

“Plus, it will give you a chance to practice your Japanese.”

A blush formed on Soobin’s cheeks. “Hey, don’t do that to me. That makes me so nervous.”

“Soobin, you are a lot better at Japanese than you claim you are. I’ve seen your notebook.” You we’re right, Soobin was pretty good at learning Japanese. He always carried his flash cards with him, and you helped him study any chance you got.

You both bought your train tickets, and within an hour or so, you finally arrived at your hotel room.

The second you both walked into the room, you immediately took off your shoes and coats, and relaxed onto the bed.

You moved closer to Soobin, nuzzling into him; making him giggle. “Are you tired?”

You nodded, and Soobins hands smoothed over your hair. “We can take a nap if you want. We’ll just have a chill night tonight while we plan the next couple of days.”

“Okay.” You answered, your eyes already closed as Soobin pulled you closer to him. At this point he was becoming your human body pillow. Soobin always smelled so good; like a mix of vanilla and fresh laundry. Pretty soon you were both fast asleep.

Within about two hours later, you both woke back up. You took a shower while Soobin watched an anime on the television, and then once you were finished; Soobin took a shower. Soobin took longer showers, so by the time he was out, your hair was already blowdried and you were in your hotel robe sitting on the bed doing your make up.

“You don’t need makeup.” Soobin spoke cutely to you. You looked up at him, he was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants while drying off his damp hair with a crisp white towel. “You always look nice.”

“Soob, you don’t have to say that. I just like to wear some of it.” He sat near you on the bed, picking up some of your products and examining them.

“This is cute.” He had a peachy toned eyeshadow palette in his hand.

“I’ll wear it.” You smiled at him watching you. “I’m almost done, then I just have to get dressed.”

Soobin was still looking at your makeup products, then looked at his phone for the time. “It’s like 7pm. If you want we could just walk around and go to the convenience store.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You answered, putting your makeup away.

“There’s a 7-11 like ten minutes away that we can walk to.”

You stood up from the bed to get dressed. “I’m gonna change. What are you wearing?”

Soobin looked up from his phone at you. “Im just going to wear these.” He rubbed his sweat-pant clad thighs. “And like a hoodie or something. Don’t forget about a coat, it’s cold outside.”

You smiled at him before going through your suitcase to find clothes. “Soobin, I know.”

You threw on a simple outfit of some jeans and a sweatshirt.

You both were standing in front of the mirror, and you spritzed some perfume on.

“We look cute.” Soobin spoke, looking at you through the mirror.

You smiled. “I know, I want to kiss you all over.”You turned to face him, standing on your toes to kiss him. “You ready to go?”

Soobin nodded, his fluffy hair bouncing. “Let me get my scarf and my bag.”

Soobin grabbed his bag before wrapping his scarf around his neck, then both of you headed out of the hotel and onto the street.

“The 7-11 is this way.” Soobin spoke, grabbing your hand and starting to walk in that direction. You had to admit that Soobin looked so cute all bundled up in the cold.

“The streets look so cool.” You spoke out loud to yourself, looking around.

“I know. It has a Japan vibe.” Soobin answered.

“Soobin, that’s where we are!” You laughed, making him smile.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” He couldn’t help but laugh at himself too.

You eventually came to an intersection, and stopped for the okay to cross the street.

You were standing next to Soobin, still holding his hand, and felt a chill.

“I’m kind of cold.” You said quietly.

Soobin looked down at you. “Your coats not even zipped all of the way!” He let go of your hand, zipping your coat up. “No wonder you’re cold.”

You eventually crossed the street, and entered the 7-11 shortly after. Soobin opened the door for you and let you walk in ahead of him.

“Do you want ramen?” Soobin asked you.

“Ooh yes please.” You answered, making him smile. “I want natto too.”

You found the ramen section, picking out flavors that you think you’d enjoy.

Both of you strayed off on your own for a little bit, but eventually Soobin found you with some things in your hands.

“Did you find anything good?” He held out his hand basket to you to put your things in.

“Yes!” The excitement was prevalent in your voice. “cheddar aerial chips, natto, and some hand rolls.” You placed each item in the basket as you named it.

“Those chips sound good.” Soobin added.

“Oh my gosh I could eat the whole bag. Which I’ve definitely done before. I can’t ever find them at home.” You noticed he had picked out a few things. “What do you have?”

“I know you like the pocari sweat in the can.” He pointed to it in his basket. “and I found apple hi chews.” He had about eight sticks of them.

You laughed. “Soob, I know that’s your favorite flavor but I hope you left some for somebody else.”

He laughed, smiling. “Hey, I did.”

You guys soon checked out your items, and went to sit down in front of the window to enjoy your snacks.

“I kind of panicked when she asked if I wanted a bag or not” Soobin said as he sat down next to you.

“But you did great.” You opened up your hand roll, wrapping the nori seaweed around it. “Want a bite?”

Soobin nodded, leaning in to take a bite.

“It’s good.” He grabbed the two bowls of ramen. “I’ll go put hot water in these.”

He came back, setting both bowls down for the noodles to soften. You opened your can of pocari sweat, taking a sip.

“It’s just superior in the can.” You commented, making Soobin laugh.

“So what do you want to do tomorrow?” You asked Soobin, opening up your styrofoam container of natto.

“I want to find a bookstore hopefully, and maybe we can go to the countryside. like maybe shirakawa.” Soobin answered.

“Yeah we can do that. I wanted to see the cherry blossoms. I think they should have bloomed in some places. I know it’s kind of touristy and it will probably be so busy, but we can take some cute pictures.”

Soobin peeled the lid off of his ramen. “Yeah, probably, but we can figure it out.”

“Yeah, I’m so excited for these next few days.”

–

tags: @dearlyjoonie @mhasimp666

[duskspring]

Gifts - Dew/Everyone

Domestic December - Day 10

Summary: Dew gets the pack gifts for the season

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): Slightly anxious Dew, fluff, some quick kisses, talk of gender exploration and euphoria in relation to Rain

Word count: ~3.5k

A/N: Some parts of this fic are inspired by some headcanons I've posted before [My Main Masterlist]

The night was loud and unholy. The entire ghoul pack had gathered in their common room, celebrating the end of year festivities. Movies had been watched, board games played and so, so much alcohol consumed. It had, by all accounts, been a great night. But not for Dewdrop.

Yes, he’d been having a lot of fun, but there was a part of him distracted. He’d had an edge of anxiety all night, waiting for the right moment to resolve it. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer, since the night was starting to reach its natural conclusion in those wee hours of the morning.

He sat on a chair on the side of the room, leg bouncing. Two strong arms suddenly came down to lean on his shoulders from behind. He’d recognize those arms anywhere.

“What’s the matter, Droplet?” Swiss asked, “You’ve been a nervous wreck all night.” 

“I’m not.” Dew argued unconvinsingly, before sighing. He knew he needed to just get it over with.

He stood up without another word, moving to his room. Swiss immediately followed him in concern.

“Hey, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean-”

“Nothing’s wrong, Swiss. I just need to grab something,” He stopped his stride, turning to Swiss with an almost pleading look in his eyes, “Please just wait here for a second.”

The multi ghoul was confused, but didn’t want to overstep. He subtly nodded a few times, “Alright.” He took a step backwards, his eyes staying on Dew, before turning back to the rest of the pack.

On shaky legs, Dew quickly made his way to his room. He had two plastic shopping bags waiting there for him, as well as a little separate package on his desk and another item off to the side for later. He put the separate one in his pocket before picking up the bags and marching back. He couldn’t stop now. If he just kept walking and got this over with, it'd be done. It wasn’t a big deal. Worst case scenario, the thought was still there, right?

“Ooh, whatcha got there?” Aurora asked the second he walked in. All eyes turned to him and he froze.

Just get it over with.

“Find out for yourself.” He said dismissively, putting the bags down and plopping himself down on the couch.

Aurora immediately crawled towards the bags. Half of the pack came a little closer as well, while the other half sat back, though still curious and anticipating.

Aurora dug through the first bag, grabbing the first thing she could get her claws on. She examined the wrapped package, soon spotting the name ‘Mountain’ written in Dew’s messy handwriting.

“Mounty, it’s for you.” She announced, throwing it over her shoulder without looking away from the bag.

Cirrus luckily caught it, passing it to Mountain. He looked at Dew in pleasant surprise, looking at the little flat square in his palm. The wrapping was messy, even on such a small present.

“Can I open it?” He asked dew.

“It’s your life. Do what you want.” The fire ghoul’s anxiety was getting worse, making him act dismissive as if it would distance him from the gifts.

He delicately unwrapped the package, without tearing the dotted paper. The first thing he was met with was an empty rectangle of cardboard. He turned it around, causing dew, who was paying very close attention, to bring his legs up against his chest.

Mountain looked over the cardboard a second, then third time, wanting to make sure he was reading it all correctly. There was a bit of text on there, next to a shitty doodle of a flower and what he could only assume was supposed to be Dew, all made with black permanent marker. The words were hard to make out.

“Exchangeable for one… at- attemoon?”

“For one afternoon of help in the garden.” Dew quickly mumbled in explanation.

Mountain looked up in surprise, “You hate the garden.” He noted.

“Well, if you don’t like it you could just say so!” The fire ghoul said defensively, his anxiety reaching its peak.

Mountain’s expression softened, “Dew… Thank you.” He got up, awkwardly bending over to wrap his arms around his packmate.

Dew was shaking like crazy, ready to cry at the positive reaction.

Meanwhile, Aurora had thrown a few more packages over her shoulder. Rain, Aether and Cirrus all got theirs. The little multi ghoulette huffed as she reached the bottom of the first bag, quickly moving onto the next. After throwing something to Phantom, she finally reached her own. She squealed in excitement, forgetting the few people that still hadn’t gotten their own and immediately violently unwrapping hers.

She found herself holding a small ziplock baggie. She saw Sunshine’s face, photoshopped onto a sun through it, quickly opening it up to investigate. It quickly became obvious that she was holding a little pile of different kinds of stickers. Apart from the Sunshine one, there were stickers based on everyone in the pack, all shitilly photoshopped in some relation from their element or name. There were stickers further referencing inside jokes, as well as some logos from Aurora’s favorite bands.

“Dewy, these are awesome!” She giggled, happily shaking her hands.

Cumulus came closer to her to look at the stickers, giggling at them herself, “Did you make these yourself?” She asked him.

Mountain pulled away so Dew could answer. He did so with a nod, “Aurora likes stickers. Easy.” Coming up with and putting together all the designs had actually been a nightmare, but he would never admit to that. He had zero regret, seeing Aurora’s reaction.

Based on the ghoulette’s excitement, everyone quickly dug into their own gifts. Cumulus handed out the few that hadn’t reached their reciprocate yet, including her own.

Phantom’s gift has a funny texture, only upping his curiosity. He rushed to unpack his, gasping and stuttering in excitement when he saw what it was. He could barely hold on to it with how much his hands shook.

“Whatcha got there, buddy?” Swiss asked, smiling at Phantom’s excitement.

Dew let out a sigh of relief. He’d been perhaps most nervous about Phantom’s gift, thinking it wasn’t good enough. Too lame or cheap, not personal enough. Seeing the quintessence ghoul’s eyes light up forced every last bit of anxiety to leave him.

The gift had indeed been simple, a little bat shaped fidget toy. You could spin its head around in circles, pull its wings back and forth and squish its little feet. Phantom immediately went to town on it, unresponsive to most outside stimuli.

Cumulus went next. Unwrapping her gift gracefully, much like Mountain had done. Her heart swelled as her hands grasped a book. Not just any book, but a photo album.

“Dew…” She said his name in adoration, flipping through the pages. Most pictures had been made by her. They were all labelled with a date and the place or situation in which they were taken. It was separated into three chapters: tour, home and Cumulus. The first chapter included photos from the stage, backstage and the tourbus. The second showed all the various shenanigans the pack experienced at the abbey. But it was the third that was most meaningful to Cumulus. She didn’t have a lot of pictures of herself, always being the one to take them of others. But Dew had somehow gathered just about every good picture ever taken of her, even some she had never seen before.

Cumulus quickly pushed the book into Cirrus’s hands, afraid she’d cry all over it. She sniffled, still seated on the ground. She made grabby hands to Dew, beckoning him over into her arms. The two entered a crushing hug while the book was passed around to everyone in the room, laughing and reminiscing.

“You fuckhead, really?!” Sunshine yelled in good spirit at Dew, holding up the book on a page containing a very unflattering picture of her napping on the tour bus. Drool leaked out the corner of her mouth, Swiss and Phantom posing next to her, pointing at the lewd drawings they’d made on her cheeks.

“It’s a good picture.” Dew argued with a smile, earning him a pillow to the face.

Sunshine rushed over in his disorientation, straddling his chest and miming punching him in the face a few times. They both laughed, Sunshine getting off of him again.

“Didn’t even get me a gift.” She mumbled, although her smile faltered a little. She’d been one of only two who didn’t have a gift in the bag. She was confused and hurt, but didn’t want to make a scene and risk ruining it for everyone else.

Dew looked at her face, silently reaching into his pocket and sliding her the little gift he’d kept separately in his pocket with a wink.

Sunshine immediately thought she knew what it might be, covering the package with her hand so no one could see. When everyone seemed distracted, she moved her legs up and unwrapped the gift behind them without looking down. She examined it with her hands, having a hard time not reacting. Quickly she let her eyes drift down, nearly screaming when she saw the lighter in her hands.

All the lighters she used to own had been confiscated for… reasons. And she technically wasn’t allowed to get any new ones.

She turned to Dew with a devious smirk, making him regret the gift almost instantly. But when she shuffled over and put her arm around his shoulders and rested her head against it, he knew it’d been a good call. He felt a lot calmer already, excited to witness the rest unpacking.

Cirrus went next. She tried opening it carefully, before just tearing it apart when it was taking too long. Her gift was one of the few in a proper cardboard box, also being the biggest. It carried the name of a clothing brand she was vaguely aware of.

She looked at Dew with squinted eyes. Curious, suspicious.

She opened it up to indeed be met with a sleek deep blue fabric. She picked and held it up, realizing there was another part of the same color in the box as well.

No way.

“Dew.” She stressed his name, putting her arms down again.

“Yes, dear?” He asked with a grin.

“Dew.” She looked again. It was unmistakable. He’d gotten her a suit. A full, fancy, proper suit, “I complained about not having a suit last week, how did you-”

“Guess I just know you really well.” His dismissive attitude came back with a shrug, not mentioning the fact that he’d run around town in a blind panic trying to get it on time during the busy season.

“I…” She struggled to find the words to express her gratitude.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Put it on!” Sunshine hyped her up.

Cirrus’ eyes lit up, throwing the jacket back down in the box and rushing out the room with it all.

“Alright, alright, now I’m done waiting,” Swiss said, looking straight at Dew, “I assume you haven’t forgotten about me.” There hadn’t been a gift for him in the bags either, but he knew better than to assume Dew didn’t get him anything.

The fire ghoul nodded, “One second.” And left the room.

His feet produced quick taps through the hallway, even though he was wearing socks. He hadn’t been able to bring Swiss’ gift in earlier, since it couldn’t really be wrapped.

“Dewdrop,” Right as he was about to pick it up, Cirrus’ voice came from behind him. He turned to the doorway, greeted by the sight of Cirrus in her brand new, impeccably sharp suit.

“I’m so glad it fits.” Was the first thing he said.

The ghoulette took quick strides towards him, hugging his head into her chest. She could be quite reserved sometimes, so she was glad to have caught Dew on his own.

“It looks great. Thank you so much. I love it.” Her voice shook a little with the sincerity it carried.

Dew stood semi awkwardly when she pulled back, “Phew,” He said stoically, though he did mean it and she knew that, “Guess you should show it to the rest then. I’ll be right behind.”

Cirrus nodded enthusiastically, skipping her way back to the rest of the pack.

Dew let out another relieved breath when she was out of sight. He really didn’t know why he'd been so scared to begin with. He knew his packmates well.

He could hear the excited oh’s and ah’s from the common room and knew he shouldn’t keep Swiss waiting too much longer. He waited another half a minute so Cirrus could have her moment, before picking up the gift and making his own way back.

“You did not!” Since Swiss’ gift wasn’t wrapped he could see clear as day what it was right off the bat.

“Maybe I did. Why don’t you have some fun with it?” Dew teased, holding out a very distinct guitar. At least it was distinct to Swiss.

He would recognize that damn thing anywhere. It was the first guitar he’d ever learned to play on, never allowed to take it on tour. When he returned from his first set of shows he was told he wouldn’t need the old model anymore, since it was best for him to get used to what he always used on stage. He’d never seen it again after that and a sentimental part of him had always missed it. But it was undeniable. This was the exact guitar.

The multi ghoul had never stood up so fast, making his way to Dew and practically yanking the instrument from his hands.

He inspected it, as if there was any doubt it was the right one.

“Hey, I know that! I learned to play with that thing.” Phantom mentioned.

“And it’s good that you did,” Dew interjected, “cause that’s how I figured out where they stored it. Don’t tell anyone.” The last sentence was said very quickly, giving Swiss a serious look that revealed that Dew did, in fact, steal the guitar.

Swiss looked at him with the same adoration he’d been shown earlier, but even more intense, “I cannot thank you enough.” The multi ghoul’s voice was low, soft. He’d never meant something this much in this life.

It almost caught Dew off guard, only able to nod and smile in response.

While Swiss excitedly moved to play a song, Aether had made his way to Dew’s side and led him back to one of the couches with a hand on his shoulder. Their legs touched when they sat down, making Dew move his head to Aether’s shoulder like Sunshine had done with him before.

“Should I be scared?” The quintessence ghoul asked half-jokingly, holding up the little box his gift resided in.

Dew shrugged, “Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Do you trust me?” Aether exhaled a laugh. Dew knew damn well he trusted him, he just wanted to hear him say it. He played this game a lot.

“Well, alright, alright. I trust you. Let’s see.” He removed the wrapping paper, not afraid to tear it but also not doing so in an aggressive manner.

He thought his eyes would bulge out of his skull with how wide they opened. Whatever he’d been expecting was nothing like this.

The little black ring box felt smooth in his hands, “I didn’t know you were so into human customs.” Aether smirked at Dew. The fire ghoul looked a little confused, until his friend clarified, “Are you asking me to marry you?” He already knew the answer was no, but it was fun to tease.

Dew scoffed, but couldn’t hide his smile, “You wish.”

Aether finally opened the box. The ring was a silver band, with dark purple waves decorating it all around.

“Saw it at a store, back in Cincinnati. It reminded me of quintessence, so I thought-”

The fire ghoul was cut off with a quick kiss on his lips. Aether’s face was so full of adoration, it made them both feel crazy.

“Four months,” Aether realized, “You’ve been sitting on this, and managed to keep it a secret, for four months.”

“I take it you like it.” Dew looked away from Aether’s face for a moment, a little bit of insecurity still lingering.

Aether forced him to look back with a hand on his chin, “It is perfect,” He kissed him again, “I just wish I got you something in return.”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” He nearly begged. Giving gifts had already been a struggle, let alone receiving them.

Aether dropped down, his head resting in Dew’s lap. He smiled up at him, fitting the ring onto his finger.

That left only one. Rain had waited with his gift, wanting to properly see everyone else’s reaction before getting caught up himself.

His was only a little smaller than Cirrus’ had been. He didn’t want to expect anything, afraid of being disappointed if he did. But he had a hunch. He tried not to focus on it, yet he couldn’t help a part of him hoping he was correct.

“Open it up already, I’m tired!” Aurora encouraged him, getting a poke in the ribs from Cirrus.

Rain took a breath, telling himself he'd be thankful either way. Because he would be. His heart swelled at the events of the evening, how much thought Dew had put into each and every single gift, finding things he knew everyone would like. And Dew knew him very well, right? Yes, he did, but Rain still scolded himself for his hope and expectation.

A strip of the wrapping paper tore away slowly, revealing the cardboard box underneath. Rain let out a shaky breath, forcing the rest of it out of the way.

Swiss jokingly started drum rolling with his hands on his legs, the rest of the room slowly joining in. It only made Rain take more time. He felt exposed with all eyes on him. What if he had an unfavorable reaction?

There truly only was one way to find out. He opened the box. His tense muscles relaxed in an instant. He knew exactly what it was. And god dammit he had guessed correctly.

Dew had not been anxious in the slightest about Rain’s gift, already knowing he’d love it. Although he hadn’t counted on Rain doubling over his gift, tears streaming down his face with a quiet sob.

The rest of the room couldn’t see the gift, some stares and raised eyebrows making their way towards Dew. But his face was confident, a small smile reassuring everyone that Rain’s reaction must be of joy.

The fire ghoul got up, knowing Rain would want to hug or kiss or fuck him on the spot. The second his ass touched the couch, Rain clung onto him, his cries somehow managing to sound overjoyed indeed.

The gift may not have seemed like a lot to most people. It was a blue ankle length dress with glitters on the top part and flowers embroidered on the skirt.

But it meant the world to Rain. He’d been wearing skirts more often, mostly in the privacy of his own room. It wasn’t that he feared judgement, he knew the other ghouls, as well as the siblings, would never look at him differently for it. But he just wanted to explore and experiment a bit at his own pace. Dew was the only person he’d discussed this with in detail, having shown him this exact dress. He’d been wanting to get it really bad for a while but always felt like something was holding him back.

Not anymore.

“No pressure,” Dew whispered into Rain’s hair, “but I’d love to see you in it some time.”

The water ghoul looked up, quickly wiping the tears off his face. He smiled, hurriedly getting up and running out with the box like Cirrus had done before.

“What was it? What was it?” Phantom quickly asked.

“Give him just a minute and you’ll see.” Dew responded.

Indeed a minute later, Rain shyly stepped back into the room. There was definite excitement for everyone, some showing it more strongly than others.

“Give us a twirl!” Cumulus encouraged, causing Rain to do just that.

He felt majestic in it. A fairytale princess come to life straight out of a storybook. It was euphoric, “How did you know my size?” He asked Dew.

“I don’t know if you realize, but I’m pretty familiar with your body.” He explained.

Rain smiled wider, walking up to Dew and picking him up right off of the couch. He twirled around again, with him in his arms this time.

“Thank you so much. This really means the world.”

“Everyone say ‘thank you, Dew’.” Aether said.

A big chorus of thank you’s sounded through the common room. Phantom came up to Dew, still suspended in Rain’s arms, and joined their hug. Soon enough it was a group hug with the whole pack.

Dew had already stopped worrying, but the reinforcement of everyone’s gratitude made him feel even sillier for ever worrying in the first place. He loved his fellow ghouls and they clearly loved him back.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

[extralively]

Catoru

Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character Silliness, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Satoru is turned into a cat, Crack Treated Seriously 3,782 words Also posted on AO3 Summary: Satoru gets turned into a cat, and Yura suddenly has to catsit the white furry menace until he turns back. (Normally I use images from the manga or anime for the banner above, but this time yes, I did just sketch out this Catoru doodle myself for this lmao)

.......So. I got a request to write a fic where Satoru gets turned into a cat, and while I didn't think I'd do it at first.... the ideas just came to me lmao. So here we are! This is basically just silliness and with minimal proofreading, and as usual, I ended up writing A Little Too Much of what was supposed to be something quick and stupid lol

This oneshot is part of a series, but it can be read as standalone if you just want to see Satoru being a furry menace. I also wouldn't consider this canon to the main fic (or maybe do if you want lmao), but it takes place *before* Satoru and Yura get together (so around 2014-ish). Enjoy this silly fun!

“...are you being serious right now?” Yura asked, completely incredulous as she stared at the sight in front of her.

Shoko snorted next to her. “It does sound like a joke, doesn’t it?”

“Meow.”

Yura stared.

Satoru got turned into a cat.

Satoru got turned into a cat.

“...Fucking hell,” she let out, rubbing a hand over her face.

“It’s temporary,” Shoko said, leaning against the file cabinet as they both stared at the white-haired, blue-eyed cat on top of her office’s desk. “Should clear up in a day or so. Apparently, the idiot met this guy who said he could ‘make you experience life as a cat’ and didn’t realize he’d meant that literally.”

“Meow.”

Yura let out an aggravated sigh as her gaze met the small blue eyes of a cat who was, undeniably, the idiot known as Gojo Satoru. Even if she found it hard to believe the whole story, she could feel it was him there through their connection, which made the experience all the more surreal. “Now what?” she asked, setting her hands on her hips.

Shoko shrugged. “You take care of him.”

Yura let out a huff, shooting Shoko a look. “I take care of him?”

“You’re the expert Gojo handler,” Shoko said, her fingers fiddling with the pack of cigarettes in her pocket. “Also, I’m a doctor and not a vet.”

“Meow!”

Yura only stared at the cat—Satoru. Satoru as a cat.

Honestly, of all things—

“Oh, and before you go,” Shoko started, moving to pick up something in her desk drawer and then moving in front of Satoru-the-cat. “Here.”

When Shoko stepped back, Yura was hit by the sudden urge to snort at the same time that she wanted to throttle Satoru’s furry little neck, because Shoko had placed tiny, round sunglasses on Satoru-the-cat’s head.

“...Where’d you even get those?” Yura couldn’t help but ask.

Shoko shot her a look. “You don’t wanna know.”

-

So Yura was supposed to take Satoru-as-a-cat home.

“Meow?” Satoru... meowed as she approached the desk, and he tilted his cat head at her.

“Why do you always drag me into your messes?” Yura half-heartedly complained, her hands on her hips again.

Satoru-the-cat got up from his sitting position, walking over—or rather wobbling over—to her. It seemed that he wasn’t exactly used to moving around with four cat legs instead of two human ones.

Yura suddenly had to bite her lip to keep a smile from popping out, because as much as she was completely exasperated at the situation... Satoru-the-cat actually looked really adorable.

“Meow?” he... said, looking up at her. One little paw reached out, pawing at the air to get her attention, and oh God that’s actually really cute.

So Yura reached out with a finger, touching the paw in the air and oh God it’s like a real cat.

“I guess... we just go home,” she eventually said, letting out a small sigh. “So how do I...?”

Her hands hovered above Satoru’s furry body, unsure how to... pick him up. She eventually took a hold of his... torso? Lifting him up off the table as he let out a surprised meow, his paws swinging in the air.

“Calm down, I’m going to need to carry you—” she started, but Satoru suddenly twisted in her hold when she brought him close to her, propelling himself up using her arm and torso as a jumping point to suddenly climb on to her shoulder. Yura had to try to keep him from falling off as he climbed up, but he then simply made himself comfortable there. “Seriously?” she asked as Satoru settled down on her shoulders, letting out a satisfied chirp.

Yura sighed again.

-

“Is that Gojo-san?” Ijichi asked with wide eyes as he stared at the white fur ball around her shoulders. As he recomposed himself, he reached out with a hand. “He’s actually kind of cute—”

“Rawr.” Satoru suddenly swiped at the man, somehow shooting Ijichi the same unimpressed look he’d often give the manager but in this tiny cat body.

“Now, now, be nice,” Yura chided Satoru, as Ijichi jumped back like he’d just remembered this wasn’t just any cat he was actually talking to.

“S-sorry, Gojo-san!” Ijichi stuttered out, rushing to get into the driver’s seat of the car. Yura had to ask Ijichi to drive her back to her place, since she didn’t think taking Satoru through public transit like this would go too well.

Yura climbed into the backseat, Satoru finally jumping down from her shoulders to sit next to her as she buckled up. He seemed restless, though, like he was still getting used to this new body, moving back and forth on the backseat, standing up on his hind legs to peer through the window, jumping down between her legs, and then surprising her by climbing up onto her lap. Yura could only blink down at the white furry mass on top of her thighs, watching him as he turned around in place until Satoru eventually seemed to settle down right there.

“Really?” she asked, amused, staring down at the white-haired cat that was actually Satoru sitting on her lap. Her mind suddenly pictured the human version of him trying to do the same, that tall giant of a man trying to make himself comfortable curled up into a ball on top of her thighs, and she snorted at the mental image.

“Meow?” Satoru asked, tilting his head up at her. But she only shook her head, looking out at the window.

“This is all so ridiculous...” she muttered, snorting again.

-

“Alright, here we are,” she said, letting Satoru jump off her shoulders again to land on her couch. They were finally in the safety of her own home, and all they could do was wait until Satoru went back to normal.

Satoru-the-cat started sniffing around the couch cushions, and she wondered what it was like seeing this familiar place with his new cat eyes. Wait, did his cat self still have the Six Eyes? Limitless? How did this even work?

“Do not scratch any of my furniture,” she suddenly felt the need to tell him. Satoru-the-cat turned his head to her, and even if she couldn’t see his little cat eyes behind the tiny sunglasses, she could tell the expression on his face wasn’t anything good as he menacingly raised a paw towards the arm of the couch. “Satoru,” she warned. But he only wiggled his paw, getting closer, and her eyes narrowed further. “Don’t make me pull out a spray bottle,” she told him, wagging her finger.

Satoru let out a whiny meow, lowering his paw.

Yura sighed, moving into the kitchen. She was a little hungry, and it reminded her that she probably should get Satoru something to eat too, right? But the problem was... what?

Pulling out her phone, she started looking up cat-appropriate foods. Meats, got it. But no sauces or seasonings of any kind. Also don’t give them milk because they’re generally lactose intolerant, and that one took her by surprise—you mean that all those movies and cartoons with cats drinking from saucers of milk had been lying to her this entire time? Oh wow.

Okay, she could probably cook up something simple for him.

Yura started moving around in her kitchen, vaguely noticing Satoru walking around her apartment—scolding him when he knocked something off a shelf—but focusing on getting food ready. And since she would have to wait to get her dinner ready, she decided to hold herself off with a couple of leftover cupcakes she had in her fridge from her last bakery run.

She opened the fridge, fetching the two chocolate pastries, and then placed them up on the counter—

And suddenly Satoru jumped up on it, surprising her.

“Satoru,” she called, watching as cat Satoru headed straight to something with his tiny mouth wide open in glee, something—

The cupcakes.

“No,” she said, picking him up off the counter. His four legs flailed around in the air as he let out an indignant squeak, but she paid him no mind as she placed him on the kitchen island instead.

And he then immediately jumped right back to the counter where the cupcakes were.

“Satoru, no,” she called once more, promptly picking him up again. Cat Satoru let out another frustrated meow, his paws trying to reach her cupcakes as she moved him away. “You can’t eat sweets right now, you are a cat.”

Satoru let out a loud, dramatic meow as she placed him on the kitchen island again. And he instantly tried to jump to the counter once more, but she caught him in mid-air.

“Satoru,” she chided him, holding him against her side. Cat Satoru looked up at her, and if he were human, she was sure he’d be pouting. “I don’t know how biology works right now, but you are a cat. So there’s a big chance that if you eat any sweets as you are, it might just kill you. Stay away.”

Satoru paused for a moment, and they just stared at each other. Then he started wiggling again in her arms, trying to reach the counter, and she let out an aggravated sigh.

“So a time out, then,” she said, walking out of the kitchen and to her bedroom. “Since you can’t behave, you’re gonna have to wait right here.”

Yura shot him a stern look as she placed him inside her bedroom, his little head tilting in confusion for a moment before she closed the door and left him inside.

“You stay there until dinner is ready,” she called through the door, snorting again at this absurd situation as she heard the whiny meows coming from the other side.

Because honestly, Satoru would absolutely eat those cupcakes given the chance, and considering they were chocolate—that literally might kill him.

Satoru scratched at the door, meowing in a very dramatic and Satoru-like fashion as she turned away, walking back to the kitchen and—

There he was, sitting on top of the counter, tail swishing behind him.

Hehe, she could practically hear from him.

“...You can still teleport?” she asked, incredulous.

“Meow,” he answered, looking like a very smug cat.

-

Yura was forced to put the cupcakes away again, and she made Satoru promise he wouldn’t try to eat any sweets unless he wanted to die in a cat’s body. That, and the fact that she threatened to make him eat actual cat food got him to actually settle down as she cooked some chicken and eggs for him to have as dinner.

“So,” she started once they were both done eating, letting out a sigh. “Now what?”

“Mrrh?” Satoru chirped, his cat tongue slipping out to lick around his mouth, his ears twitching.

...Okay, he’s very cute.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Yura asked. Might as well, right?

Satoru seemed to chirp in agreement, and he followed her as she moved to the couch, jumping up on it next to her. It was certainly odd, making herself comfortable to watch a movie with Satoru when he was a cat, but she could still feel his presence there next to her, assuring her that this really was Satoru. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was him back in human form, but then she suddenly felt two little paws on top of her thigh, and her eyes opened to peer down at him.

“What?” she asked, a little amused at the sight of cat Satoru half-standing perched up on her thigh, looking up at her.

“Meow,” he responded. She had no idea what that meant.

Satoru seemed to be sniffing at something in the air, his cat head moving around as he focused on something. Then he climbed onto her lap like he’d done in the car, and Yura stared down at him in amusement. “So you’re a lap cat, that’s what you’re telling me?”

“...Meow...” he responded... almost thoughtful.

Yura continued to stare at him, taking in the features of Satoru-as-a-cat. He was actually, truly, really cute, and she bit her lip as she stared at the way his tiny pink nose wiggled around in the air. When Satoru suddenly lifted a paw to swipe at his own head, purposefully knocking the tiny sunglasses off, familiar blue eyes blinked up at her. “Hi... kitty,” she called, and when Satoru’s tiny cat eyes narrowed up at her, she snickered. “Are you a good boy?” she teased.

Satoru let out a small huff, turning his head up. Yura wasn’t holding back the grin that spread across her face, and she ended up also not holding herself back when she got the urge to suddenly touch him.

She lifted a hand, slowly letting a finger touch his cat cheek. The whiskers tickled her skin, but as she finally made contact, the white fur felt extra soft to the touch, softer than when she would brush his hair sometimes. Ah, that’s right—Satoru was actually really fond of having his hair brushed, wasn’t he? So would he enjoy the same thing as a cat, she wondered...

She started to gently scratch at his cheek, watching as Satoru seemed to pause at the feeling... and then suddenly lean into it, his eyes closing as he pushed his head into her hand.

Yura’s smile widened as she started giving him scritches under his jaw, Satoru seemingly enjoying them and encouraging her further.

Then he started purring.

Yura had to bite at her lip—this was too much. “Satoru,” she called, moving her hand to rub at the top of his head. “You’re purring right now,” she told him, but he didn’t respond, his eyes closed as he seemed to enjoy getting petted.

Her grin widened.

Her other hand joined in, her thumbs rubbing at his cat cheeks. He only let out an appreciative meow, the purring never ceasing, and Yura kept indulging him, like she’d often do by brushing her hands through his hair after he’d make her take his blindfold off for him. But then Satoru suddenly moved forward, his front paws stepping on her stomach as he raised himself closer to her face, and she blinked down at the sudden proximity.

“What?” she asked, a little confused but also a little amused. Or a lot.

Satoru, as expected, didn’t say anything, only brought his head closer to her, nose sniffing the air. Yura blinked at him as his chilly little nose touched her chin, sniffing at her... before he suddenly started rubbing his head against her jaw.

She huffed out an amused laugh. “Satoru?” she asked, but Satoru only kept rubbing his cat head against her cheek, his fur and whiskers tickling her. He’d pause for a moment, nose sniffing at her again, before he went right back to rubbing his head against her... almost fiercely determined in his movements. “Honestly...” she huffed out again. Her hands had been hovering in the air, and she let them gently rest against Satoru’s white, furry back.

Was this a cat instinct of his? Well, she could indulge him on this, as long as he didn’t start humping her or anything...

-

If there was one thing she learned during this whole experience, it was that Satoru as a cat was really needy.

After he was done rubbing himself up on her, he settled down on her lap and proceeded to nap there as Yura watched the movie alone, letting her hands gently pet him every now and then. But when she had to get up to go to the bathroom, he did not seem to have appreciated being disturbed, letting out whiny meows as she told him that no, you can’t come with me.

Then after, when she tried getting some work done for the night, scattering a few reports on her bed that needed filling, Satoru said no. Or meowed a no, in this case, promptly sitting on top of the papers and refusing to move.

“Satoru,” she called, staring at him with a look that asked ‘are you serious’.

Satoru’s tail swished back and forth, silently responding with ‘yes, I am’.

She let out a heavy sigh. Honestly, this somehow felt so painfully in-character for him that she had to wonder if turning into a cat was what made him act more like one, or if he’d already had the soul of a cat deep, deep down.

It eventually got late enough that it was time to go to bed, so Yura started her nightly routine. She took a shower (and threatened to give Satoru a shower if he didn’t behave), and went to brush her teeth.

And Satoru refused to leave her alone.

“Meow,” he tried getting her attention, standing up on his hind legs with his front paws pressed against her leg.

“’m busy,” she said, spitting out toothpaste into the sink. “Just let me brush my teeth.”

“Meowww,” he whined.

Yura sighed. Weren’t cats supposed to be more independent or something?

“Do you want to go to the bathroom again?” she asked. At least Satoru was able to use the regular toilet, and she hadn’t needed to get a litterbox for him...

But cat Satoru shook his head, letting out a whine. He ended up jumping up on her washing machine next to her sink, perching himself up there and looking at her expectantly.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, but he shook his head. “What then?”

Satoru nodded his little head at her, his blue eyes sparkling in the artificial light of her bathroom.

Did he... did he want more petting?

Incredulous, Yura raised a hand—surely this wasn’t what he wanted?

But then he pushed his head into her hand, and Yura started giving him scritches again as she let out a huff.

This fucking cat.

-

At last, it was time to get to bed. But therein lay the problem: where was cat Satoru going to sleep?

Satoru had never really slept over her place, mostly due to the lack of space and he’d never had any need for it anyway. So should she make him sleep out on the living room couch? Yura felt a little guilty at the thought, the image of this tiny bundle of white fur staying all alone by himself out there making him look oddly vulnerable in her mind. And considering that he refused to stay away from her anyway... into her bedroom they went.

“Here,” she said, setting her fluffiest blanket into a small nest for him at the foot of the bed. “You can sleep here.”

“Meow?” Satoru let out, jumping up on her bed and investigating the makeshift cat bed.

It felt a little surreal, going to sleep with Satoru right there next to her, in the same bed... but as a cat. Well, the entire day had felt very surreal, to be fair, so it was finally time to end it and hope that tomorrow this whole thing would eventually fix itself at some point.

Yura settled into her usual spot on the bed, slipping under the covers on her side, her eyes then landing on the white furball next to her.

“You alright in there?” she asked, and Satoru turned his cat head to her.

“Meow,” he replied. That sounded good enough to her.

Yura closed her eyes.

And a few moments later, she felt the bed shift, a warm small weight settling right against her stomach. She cracked an eye open, seeing the white cat that was Satoru curling himself into a ball against her.

“Satoru?” she asked, but he only responded with a quiet chirp, curling further into himself.

Yura let out yet another sigh. She had read somewhere that cats had higher body temperatures and that they liked the heat, so maybe he was just cold.

She lifted a hand, rubbing a knuckle on the top of his head. “Just go to sleep, and maybe you’ll wake up human again tomorrow,” she told him.

“Meow...” he responded, and started purring again.

A smile spread across her face as she closed her eyes.

(When Yura had been halfway to sleep, she felt a warm thing suddenly start to burrow itself under her arm. It felt nice, and soft, so Yura brought it closer to her chest, holding it to her.)

-

Yura eventually started waking up, bit by bit.

And the first thing she noticed was the warm thing that was pressed against her—not unpleasant, just unusual. Her brows furrowed at the feeling, because this thing was warm and heavy against her side, something rubbing itself against her chest and making her feel funny.

So she cracked her eyes open and peered down, her gaze being immediately met by a headful of white hair.

Ah, Satoru, her mind supplied. But hold on—Satoru had been turned into a cat yesterday, she suddenly recalled. But hold on again—this was definitely a person-sized thing that was in bed with her.

“Satoru...” she called, trying to shift back to look at him. But no go, Satoru had a strong arm locked around her torso, keeping her in place as he rubbed his head against her chest.

Was he still purring or was that just her imagination...?

Yura tried pulling back again but Satoru held on tighter, a sudden realization that he was rubbing his face against her breasts making a wave of heat shoot up across her face.

“S-Satoru,” she stammered out, wakefulness finally coming over her as she pushed him back with more force. “You’re human again, get off.”

That seemed to have finally stirred him awake, his head eventually shifting up to blink up at her with blue sleepy eyes—human eyes now. His hold on her loosened, and she took the opportunity to push him away from her. Her eyes scanned his form, trying to check if everything was back in place now, her eyes going lower and lower—

Yura let out a loud squeak, jumping off the bed. “You are naked—”

“Me—ow,” he let out as she pushed him off the bed, ungracefully falling onto the floor with a bedsheet thrown over him. “…This is animal abuse.”

Yura let out a huff, welcoming back Satoru’s familiar voice after all those meows yesterday—at the same time that she wanted to smack his finally human face.

(And she tried very hard to ignore his very human bare chest as he only dignified himself to cover his bottom half with the fallen bedsheet, her face burning because yes, she had also just caught an eyeful of very human privates just a moment before…)

End notes: (Yes, I did not know how to end this lol)

Anyway, this was just some silly side fun as I struggle writing some chapters of the main fic, welp. Turns out it's a lot more fun to picture Satoru as a cat instead! Bonus points if you're familiar with cat behavior and figured out what cat Satoru was doing rubbing himself on Yura lmao. And since they weren't together here yet, Yura doesn't know how clingy and needy Satoru can really get as a human because sis, that is just his real self showing through when he has the excuse of 'being a cat' to hide behind lol.

Thank you for reading this dumb oneshot!

[darkkitty1208]

Sooo. I wrote a thing for @crowleys-creations OC Reggie, who is an absolute sweetheart that I LOVE. I'm referring to both of them. They are wonderful people.

I can't explain to you how much I love Reggie. He is our little guy. I want to show him off.

Reggie is Stephen's partner in Crow's universe. She shared a scenario she thought of of them and I went 'I want to write it' and she consented. So here it is!!!

All dialogue and scenario is made by Crow. Narration and otherwise is my writing :D <3

If you want to know more about Reggie or Crow's strangesona, here is a post of intro sheets for their OCs! They are amazing.

Home

Summary: Reggie visits Stephen's chilhood home, meeting his mother for the first time.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Past Trauma, Domesticity, Idiots in Love, Fluff

Meeting Stephen's mother for the first time is a nerve-wracking experience.

Don't get him wrong, Reggie absolutely adores Stephen's mother. She seems like a lovely woman; and he feels a sense of respect for what he knows she and Stephen has gone through. Most of all, he's grateful of her to have brought Stephen to this world.

He's been keeping himself composed all day, trying to keep the jitters at bay. He's mostly concerned for Stephen, though--checking in with him constantly to see if he's alright, reassuring him with quiet smiles and small touches that he's here, he's always here, and that Stephen isn't alone. He knows what Stephen's gone through. Looking at his childhood home must put a toll on him emotionally.

The evening they spent together had been one of the loveliest times he's had in his life. Laughing at Stephen's childhood photos (there was a particular one where little Stephen was grinning teethily at the camera, a bandaid on his nose where Beverly explained he had gotten after he fell off a bike, and another where he was a teenager, tilting a cowboy hat in such an endearingly Stephen way that Reggie couldn't help but make fun of him for it), looking at Stephen's old room and his old things, visiting the childhood playground Stephen had played in. Everything in his house had a story. Every room, every corner, every doodle or sticker on the wall.

It ignites some sort of longing in him. He wishes he could tell the same stories, recall the same memories, laugh and joke about little stupid things he had done as a child. He couldn't come up with one.

Reggie wants this. He wants this domesticity, this warmth. He wants to feel how family is supposed to be like.

And it's here, as Beverly and him stand in the humble kitchen of their home, Stephen tending to some chores outside, that he feels a small spark of it. Like an old feeling, or a sense of nostalgia, even if he's never been here before. There is familiarity in the way Beverly passes him a plate, the sound of sizzling from the pan, the quiet chatter. He feels like he belongs here.

"Has Stephen met your parents yet?" Beverly asks in between flipping the steak on the pan. Reggie watches as the meat sizzles, turning an appetising brown. "Maybe we can have a big family dinner, all get to know each other." She smiles at that. It looks a little like Stephen's.

Reggie is a little taken aback by the question and the offer that follows. He tries not to let it show, but freezes involuntarily nonetheless. He quickly composes himself with a smile.

"Erm, no. My parents passed when I was young," he says simply. Beverly's eyes widen by a fraction.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she says, sounding guilty. "I didn't think-- Stephen didn't say--"

Reggie is quick to reassure. "No, no, it's fine, really, I don't mind," he says, waving it off gently. His smile turns small, genuine, and there's some sadness in it he couldn't help let slip. "I like talking about them. It keeps them alive."

Beverly gives him an unexplainably motherly smile at that. Reggie appreciates it.

She asks questions, then; what do you remember about them? What were they like? Reggie answers all of them happily, recalling what he can. There's something, though, deep in his chest. Pulling, tugging at his emotions. He buries it in favour of keeping their light conversation going.

-

Stephen's bed has soft covers on them. Reggie is sitting at the edge of it, observing, looking around. His room is small, bookshelves filled to the brim with various books, a simple studying desk at the corner. He has a night lamp that glows a gentle, warm, light, which Reggie smiles at knowing Stephen must've been scared of the dark as a child.

He sighs. He's waiting for Stephen now, getting ready for bed in the bathroom. He hears him brushing his teeth, hears the running water, hears the quiet humming. It's comforting. It feels like home.

The longing resurfaces again, then. It's been there in his chest the whole day. It's welling up inside him now, gripping his chest. He feels it seizing up his throat, feels a growing sting in his eyes. Blinking it away doesn't help, so he focuses on the lines of his hands instead, hoping it would distract him.

He doesn't hear the door click, or Stephen stepping out. He does notice when the bed dips as Stephen's weight settles beside him.

"Hey," Stephen says, looking concerned. Reggie can't help but admire his eyes. "You okay?"

Reggie smiles. It's a pained one, if he must admit. He hopes it doesn't look so.

"Yeah," he says, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. "Yeah, just erm."

Stephen waits as he arranges his words. Reggie feels grateful for that.

"Your mother mentioned having dinner with my parents," he explains, "And I just... remembered that I won't have this. The whole introducing the boyfriend, embarrassing childhood photos, funny stories."

The words feel difficult to get out. But he tries.

"I won't get to have that." That's where he chokes up. He can't help it. Not after keeping it in the entire day. He feels Stephen lay a comforting hand on his back, moving back and forth reassuringly. "Every time I think they've missed everything they could, something happens that makes me wish they could be there." He wipes a rebellious tear that slips down his cheek.

He's been trying to stay strong the entire day. He really has.

Stephen turns to embrace him, wrapping him securely with his arms. It makes him feel a little guilty, when he's meant to be here for Stephen. But he lets him hold Reggie. He lets him stroke his hair. He lets him whisper little nothings in his ear.

He lets his tears flow freely. His gates are down now. And this is Stephen, he doesn't need to hold back. He can be vulnerable. He can trust Stephen.

"When I was a kid I just missed them," he remembers, "then when I was older I realised they didn't get to teach me to ride a bike, or drive or see me graduate or get my first job, but then I figured it was over. They missed all the big milestones but then, I get a medal, then I get promoted, I get my garage up and running, I meet you--" He sobs. "And it just never stops. every big moment in my life is also one of the saddest moments and when your mother asked me about dinner it just brought it all up again, it's not her fault it's just..."

He's spiralling. He cries into Stephen's shoulder. He cries until his chest hurts. Stephen is holding him still, and it feels so, so good to be like this. To know that Stephen loves him. To know that somebody loves him, cares for him, is there for him.

"Shh," Stephen shushes him. "I know, it's okay," He kisses the top of his head, gentle and soft and loving. "I know it's not the same, but I think like that with my father sometimes," he says, "If he had been loving--what we could've had, or every time I have one of those moments, I remember that he isn't there and... that Donna doesn't get to have those."

Stephen holds him tighter. Reggie burrows further, smelling the bit of skin peeking out of Stephen's shirt's collar. It smells like soap and old books and tea and something so utterly Stephen.

God, they're such a mess. Reggie can't help but chuckle a little. Stephen hums back his own bit of laughter.

"We're utter messes, huh?"

"Heh, yeah," Stephen says, and the hand rubbing his back pauses. The weight feels warm, going through the fabric separating it from his skin. "But we're each other's messes."

Reggie's sure Stephen can feel the smile he makes on his skin.

"Always?" he asks.

"Always."

[dokoni-mo]

So your wonderful sketches have sparked the fluff part of my brain with an idea!

What if bunny was an artist or simply liked doodling and they had a sketchbook. So maybe one day they left their sketchbook on the counter. And because Peepaw willy is nosy as fuck, he looks through it, and finds sketches of himself. Kinda a lot of sketches of him.

He’ll probably bring it up with his dear bunny, because they’re simply so cute to him. How sweet of them to doodle him💜. But personally i think this would be a disaster for three reasons.

1. Inflates his ego

2. Inflates his ego

3. Inflates his ego

Thoughts??

CHERRY ADLFKJAJKFF;A YOU CANT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THISSS /LH

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader 20 will almost 40), sensual touching, will likes to snoop lol, he's also obsessive, and VERY egotistical, sir kink, sexual themes, teasing, dom/sub undertones, allusions to corruption kink, not proofread IMSORRY

It depends on what you mean by a disaster tbh,, Like yes of course it's gonna inflate his ego to holy hell LMFAOO like just the thought of you sitting there on your own? Thinking of him so much that you draw him a bit of an embarrassing amount of times? Oh my god he is over the moon

You're not ever gonna share this information though. It's embarrassing, at least to you, so you'd never show him on your own. You'd show him some of the other things you draw, but never those ones. But you underestimate how nosy Will is. Especially when it comes to his bunny. He wants to know every single little thing about you, and he knows there's pages in that sketchbook he hasn't seen.

So when you leave your backpack unattended to whilst you're in the shower, of course he's gonna rummage through there. How could he not? When it's so easy? Besides, he's learning more about you. And, in turn, that'll help him take care of you better. Why wouldn't you like that?

He pours through your bag and digs out all your books and papers, reading over them all. He finds your handwriting cute, and some of your essays are actually interesting to him. He even finds some of the notes you pass back and forth to Michael during class.

He throws those away.

But oh what do we have here? Your sketchbook that you keep so heavily guarded. Why do you feel the need to hide things from him, little bun? Don't you trust him?

Shifting through the pages though, he quickly learns why you didn't share all the pages. Your art is somewhat stylized, but he can tell what those sketches are of.

Of him.

Pages and pages of him.

Oh bunny. Weren't you supposed to be focused on your lessons? Why are you doodling him in the margins of your notes then, hm? Did sir really occupy your mind that much? Oh sweetie, if you missed him that much, you were always welcome to come to his office. Just because you weren't in his bed didn't mean the two of you couldn't have some fun, not at all. Sir knows plenty of fun games he could show you there. You know you're always welcome, too.

Before he can delve too deep in his fantasies of you, you snatch the sketchbook out of his hands and slam it shut, your face beet-red. You had snuck up behind him after your shower, him too lost in his filthy thoughts to pay enough attention.

"What are you doing?" You ask him, feverishly with your sweet little eyes wide open.

He can't help but smirk as he steps closer to you, causing you to lean up against the kitchen counter with your sketchbook behind your back, "You know exactly what I'm doing, little bunny."

"I-It's not fair to look through my things like that... That's mean."

William chuckled as he placed each of his arms on the counter, pinning you in place as he leaned in close.

"Oh, sweet thing. You should know by now that sir doesn't ever play fair. Tell me," he said, only loud enough for you to hear, "When did you draw all those, hm?"

"I... " you trailed off, your gaze falling to the floor. William was quick to remedy this, using his large, strong hand to point your chin back up at him. His grey, lust-filled eyes staring into your timid ones.

"Answer me, bunny. Use your words like I taught you to."

Your face as getting hotter by the second, "It was... While I was bored doing homework..."

The brit tutted, "But that's when you should be paying attention to your studies, is it not?"

"Y-Yes... It is, sir."

William's other hand found its home on your waist, "But what were you doing instead, little one?"

He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You bit the inside of your cheek, "I was... I was thinking about you. And that I missed you, sir..."

The older man let out a low groan from the back of his throat, a wash of pleasure rolling down his spine. Oh you just loved him that much, didn't you bunny? He just made you feel that good, didn't he? Where that's all you could ever think about? Only him? Precious rabbit. If only you knew just how much he thought of you.

William's thumb pressed against your bottom lip as he studied your face, the tightness in his pants becoming hard to ignore.

"Oh, bunny," he cooed, "whatever will I do with you? I'm not sure whether if its appropriate to punish you or reward you."

The brit's thumb slid across on your lips as you spoke.

"Th-that's for you to decide, sir."

His smirk depended at your words, the pressure in his pants too hard to ignore now.

Perhaps you could help with that, wouldn't you?

"I suppose it is, isn't it? Good bunny. On your knees, little one. Now."

[melancholicheart]

All This Time- Chapter 6

cw: trans male pregnancy (past, mentioned), angst, miscommunication, fluff and happy ending

Two weeks have passed and they have been- hectic, for want of a better word.

Simon got in touch with Price, using a mobile of all things, and Johnny fumed at the fact they’re using mobiles now after all he went through trying to contact base.

Regardless, Price- and subsequently Gaz- were informed of everything. From Elizabeth, to the General, to Johnny himself and how he’s doing and it’s safe to say, Price was incredibly pissed too. So pissed, in fact, that he and Gaz have put work aside momentarily to launch an internal investigation with the help of Laswell.

They said they would keep in touch but these two weeks have passed without a peep from the 141 so Simon and Johnny are making assumptions that they’re busy working on it, scrounging up as much info as possible.

As morning rolls around, Johnny finds himself coming around at a distinctly later time that usual, which is all thanks to Simon. Johnny was used to the 5:30AM starts, working on breakfast and cleaning before Elizabeth would wake but now, it’s 8AM and Johnny’s never felt as well-rested.

He wakes to an empty bed, suddenly an unusual feat, as he feels around for Simon.

That’s another change. Somehow Simon has ended up sharing a bed with Johnny again and neither of them are complaining about it. There were brief words of ‘the couch isn’t that comfy, y’know, and the bed’s big enough’ and that’s all it took.

So lying in an empty bed feels strange despite the last five years being spent in an oversized empty bed. He’s quick to his feet, running quickly through his morning routine, before going to find his daughter and Simon.

He knows the second he steps out of his room to use the bathroom that they’re in Elizabeth’s room. The door is slightly ajar, light on and voices bouncing off the walls as they speak in relatively hushed whispers. Johnny is quick to join them.

Johnny pokes his head around the door, not disturbing the two but watching as they play. They have their backs to the door and Elizabeth is sat on Simon’s knee. His arm is draped over her legs as she doodles all over his arm.

There’s little creatures, ants and butterflies namely, scattered over his wrist. Up towards his elbow there’s little dinosaur looking things and just below the crease of his elbow, there’s a pretty good drawing of a flower (for an almost 5 year old, anyway).

“You’re just like your Papa,” Simon mumbles. His other arm is round her back, holding her still on his leg so she doesn’t topple backwards, “Always doodling. Your Dad used to colour in my tattoos when he was bored.”

“Papa always lets me doodle! I like it.”

“You’re very good at it sweetheart. The flower is excellent.” Simon says.

“It’s a daisy!”

“So it is.” Simon chuckles, staring at his arm that looks more like an abstract art piece than a limb at that point.

Johnny makes himself known then, stepping into the room and perching on the edge of Elizabeth’s bed. He takes a closer look at the drawings and smiles, “My, my! Who drew all these masterpieces?”

Elizabeth beams, “I did it, Papa!”

“I would pay millions for them, put them up in a gallery if I could!” Johnny exaggerates, making Lizzie giggle.

“You can’t put my arm in a gallery,” Simon argues, “I need it!”

Johnny almost makes a crude joke before remembering little ears are around, “Yeah, I’m sure you do. Should we go and get some breakfast?”

Johnny picks Elizabeth up and sits her on his hip, giving her a cuddle like he does every morning. Simon makes his way to the kitchen and starts poking around for food, “Not got so much in,” Simon says. He opens the fridge and gets the milk out. He sniffs it and grimaces before slamming the lid back on, “Can’t even have a brew.”

“I suppose we’ll have to go food shopping then,” Johnny sighs. A groan tumbles from his lips, “Again!”

Simon shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I’ll sort it. You and Lizzie stay here, I know you said you’ve got some things to talk about with her.”

Johnny ponders for a moment. He’s been wondering what to do about the entire ‘Simon’ thing and he spoke to him about what he wants to do. Simon said he’s more than willing to leave the army, move nearby and be a parent but Johnny wants to hear with Elizabeth has to say. He doesn’t expect much, not from a 4 year old, but he wants to give her a chance to ask questions either way.

“Alright. I’ll make you a list. We need more soap but you have to get the sensitive one because she gets rashes really easily.” Johnny says, picking Elizabeth up and sitting her on the counter in front of him.

Simon already knows the one, he uses it on his own skin since he is prone to outbreaks of his eczema. He lets Johnny make the list regardless. He lets him leave with a promise of sending him the money but Simon shrugs him off and says, “I think it’s about time I helped out.”

Once he is gone, Johnny manages to scrounge a small breakfast together, just apples and yoghurt for him and Elizabeth but he hardly touches it whilst he talks to her.

“Lizzie, darling, can me and you have a big grown up talk?” He asks.

She nods, dipping her apples into the yoghurt and kicking her feet about whilst she eats them.

“Now Daddy is here, I want to know how you’re feeling?” Johnny asks.

“Wha’ you mean?” She mumbles around a mouthful of food.

“I mean are you happy? I know you missed him before but I want to make sure you’re happy he’s here, and that you like him.”

Now her nods are more vigorous, “Yeah Papa! I like him, he’s nice! He tells silly jokes, like you.”

Johnny chuckles a little, “That’s what happens when you become a Dad, they give you a book on the silliest jokes to tell your babies.”

“You’re lyin’!”

“Okay, maybe a little, but it is a thing! The best jokes come to you when you’re a Dad.” Johnny says.

“So, is Daddy gonna go back fightin’ again?” She asks. Johnny takes a moment to eat some of his own breakfast as he thinks of a response.

“I don’t know yet, there’s a lot of grown up stuff to sort out but I know Daddy wants to be here with you, he told me himself.” Johnny explains.

“I wan’ him to stay. I loves having him here!” She exclaims and Johnny smiles.

“I do too sweetheart.”

Simon takes a long time getting back. Johnny wonders if something’s happened, if he got lost or he skipped town. He would be so pissed that he would storm onto his old base and beat the shit out of him if he skipped out on his daughter.

He manages to work himself into such a worry that he becomes angry and starts furiously cleaning the house whilst Eliza plays with her dolls and her dinosaurs. By the time Simon comes back, Johnny breathes such a sigh of relief that a few tears slip from his eyes and he wipes them away swiftly.

“Hey,” Simon says, placing the few bags on the counter, “Everything okay?”

Johnny nods, drying his hands on a tea towel after doing the dishes. He takes a deep breath, smiles and turns around to Simon, “Yeah.”

Simon looks straight through Johnny’s facade, just like he always did, and goes to question him when Elizabeth comes over and clings to Simon's leg, “Daddy you were gone ages!”

“I wasn’t gone too long sweetie, I needed to get a few extra things.”

“Like what?” Johnny suddenly snaps and he turns away before either of them can see the tears in his eyes again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap- I just- yeah.”

“Johnny, what’s going on?” Simon asks, stepping closer to him and pressing a hand to the small of his back. Johnny takes a deep breath and sighs.

He looks down at his daughter who sees he looks upset and rushes to him, clinging to his leg instead and he reaches a hand down to play with her hair. He looks up at Simon and his heart clenches, “I- you were gone so long and I got worried. I thought- I thought you left.” He whispers, quiet enough so Elizabeth doesn’t hear.

“Left? Oh shit, Johnny I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you where I was going-”

Johnny shakes his head, “No I should’ve just trusted you, you’re a grown man, you don’t have to tell me where you are 24/7.”

“Well, you’re right I guess but I should’ve told you either way. We’re a team, right? Can’t be a team if I’m off sneaking around, can we?” He asks and Johnny shakes his head.

“Can we know where you were?” He asks and Simon nods, suddenly looking less guilty and more enthusiastic.

“Of course! I actually had a little surprise planned but I needed to go to multiple places to execute it,” Simon explains. He reaches to one of the bags, not a supermarket one and pulls out two beautiful bouquets. One is smaller than the other, a mix of beautifully colourful flowers with little decorations accompanying the flowers, dinosaurs of all things.

The other bouquet is full of purple, blue and white flowers, very deep but very pretty nonetheless and the decorations in there are full of bees and butterflies, Johnny’s favourites. He hands them both a bouquet each, corresponding to the decor within them.

“I suppose this is a sorry, a thankyou and a everything all together bouquet,” Simon explains to Johnny, before turning to Elizabeth, “And I couldn’t get Papa flowers without giving some to my beautiful girl, could I?”

Elizabeth smiles and begs to be picked up. She cuddles into Simon and plays with the little dinosaur decor in the flowers, “Daddy, I love it!”

“I’m so glad baby,” He mumbles, looking to Johnny who is staring at the bouquet with a bright smile, “I have another little surprise too.”

“Another?” Johnny asks as Simon sits Elizabeth on the counter, rolling his sleeve up.

On his arm, below his elbow crease, is a tattoo of the flower Elizabeth drew that morning. Perfectly imperfect, just like the original drawing, and just below it, there’s Elizabeth’s birthdate.

“Papa! Daddy got the drawing!” Elizabeth squeals. She kicks her legs in delight and Johnny places his bouquet down to look at the tattoo on Simon’s arm.

Johnny looks up at Simon, words escaping him and he just hugs him. Simon seems shocked before he melts into it and hugs Johnny back.

“Thankyou,” Johnny mumbles, “Thankyou Si.”

“I’m sorry.” Simon mumbles and Johnny knows what he means and that he means it.

“I know. It’s okay.” Johnny holds him close and Elizabeth begs to be invited into the hug, the two of them squishing her between them to cuddle her as she yells in laughter at them both.

[subzeroiceskater]

The Great has a very small nose on its face. Its prominence depends on how much the scene needs/wants to humanize him. Same with eye/face coloring. Most of the time, especially with the present, they're mostly absent. Scenes set in the past or talking with somebody friendly, especially intimate moments with Café, they're a lot more prominent.

I'm very inconsistent when I'm just doodling, though.

Café's "hair" isn't supposed to be flat. They wrap around those robot ear thingies--hers is the usual MM design--and they have volume so they taper off like a horn. However, Café also has those goofy cartoonish design that looks even more ridiculous when viewed from any angle than face on so I usually draw mostly facing the reader. When I doodle her, I just usually go draw the hair/headgear as straight, so they do look flat.

I felt like shit when I noticed that uh, Café finally got drawn by someone else and he made sure to put in the little details like the little fluff things on her head and how the band don't quite the edges (!!!) but were drawn flat. Like, I immediately noticed that and thought, "didn't I specify that too in her ref" and I did...but most of the doodles on the page has me just drawing them flat. And a quick glance through her tag has most of her drawing depicting them as flat so. I felt 😔😔😔 "FUCKED UP SOMEONE ELSE TRYING TO DO NICE THING AND BE CONSIDERATE OF YOUR WISHES BY being a shit artist".

Can I really blame anyone else for not being consistent with my character when I can't be?

I still feel bad, though.

Anyway, this honestly just started as thinking about a couple of design notes for my characters. It's got me thinking once again that I'll never ask anyone else to draw anyone but Café. Not that I don't want them or don't think anyone would want (oh god I'd love of my dumbass characters be drawn by someone else) but I just don't think anyone else want to. I mean, most people don't seem to want to draw my fave girl, who's my fave and the simplest to draw--no one's gonn have fun trying to draw The Great or Rodent. 😔

[fluffbeast7]

sometimes i take a long time to design characters, dusk is one of them

im struggling with him because he is supposed to be a shapeshifter creature like fluff and has very similiar origins like her, he's supposed to be her ''opposite''

very edgy, he likes to follow the rules ( there aren't any rules, he follows his own rules and wants fluff and everyone to follow them too) but he's no villain.. but he's the one who makes fluff have a reality-check at one point, fluff blames him at first for what happened but it's not his fault, he tried to warn her

quick doodle of him so far, don't mind how messy it is, i drew it on ms paint on my mouse and it's been years since i've done that

fluff is small, dusk HAS to be abnormally tall, fluff is.. fluffy and a mammal (her usual form, that is.), dusk doesnt have as much fur and he is a reptile. at first i designed him to a bird, but i dont think i want that anymore ( instead of flying, he climbs around the walls like a menace)

anyways, the point is, fluff and dusk both shapeshift and travel between different realities, fluff doesn't think about why they have that power, but and he does, he thinks about it A LOT,

this was his first design, i think i'm going blend the first one and the second one a few times until i'm satisfied ( i liked the first one, it just doesn't feel original enough..).

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I have a request for a black clover head cannon for Yuno,asta, Zora, and liebe with like an artisti S/o who likes to draw and paint them

Hiya,

Awww , more art for the lovely boys

Pairing: Yuno x gn!reader, Asta x gn!reade, Zora x gn!reade, Liebe x gn!reade

Fanfic type: Headcanons

Genre: general/fluff

Total length: ~0.9k

Yuno

Yuno doesn’t really think about it too much, when he sees you drawing, or doodling into your sketch book. It’s something you like doing, and he’s alright with it.

But he also doesn’t want to pry, which is why he doesn’t really ask about it too much. And if he does, you give him a generic answer, especially at the start of the relationship. Because… what are you supposed to say? That you are drawing him more often than not? And besides… what if he doesn’t like the drawing…

Besides… you didn’t think that the drawings made him justice.

However, once you put your sketchbook down, open, and left to get a drink. Which was when he saw what was in that book. And it was all him.

At that point he begun flipping through the pages to see more and more drawings of him.

As you got back, you could only stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say… something. Anything. Actually, you were waiting for him to say something … judgemental? Maybe? Honestly, you didn’t know.

But instead he just looked at you and went “you’re good at drawing”.

“You like them?”

“Yeah…”

After that, you didn’t have reservations on drawing him, and showing him the pictures. Or even asking him to model for you, because… he’s got the features for it.

And it offered another activity for you too, to enjoy as a couple. Because it was time spent together; which is the best time spent.

Asta

Asta takes active interest in your hobbies, and as he sees you drawing a lot, he also does ask a lot of questions about it. But he also compliments you and encourages you when you’re struggling with a new pose, or shading or anything of the sorts.

He also asks to see your works, but he doesn’t push if he sees that you’re not ready to show him just yet. Because they’re your drawings, and you decide to whom you’ll show them.

However, he does ask if you’d like to draw him. In fact, he’d love to see what kind of an artwork you’d make of him!

Little did he know that you’ve been drawing him for all this time… Because he’s your favourite thing to draw.

But. Because you don’t want to let him down, you agree to the request and draw him; giving him the picture at the end.

And he loves it. Absolutely adores it. That one, and any piece that might come after.

He’s there to support your interests, and help you get better at it. In any way he can. Because he loves you.

Zora

Zora sees you scribbling down into your notebooks, pieces of paper, and it doesn’t seem like you’re writing. Some of the lines are too long and smooth. He’s an observant man, and knows the difference between writing and drawing.

At first he thinks that you’re drawing… diagrams, maybe? Or something else. But. He can’t help but let curiosity get the best of him, which is why he leans over your shoulder one day to look at what you’re drawing.

“That looks pretty good,” he tells you when he means that it looks spectacular. And that is when all the stolen glances you have given him make even more sense.

“But you know… you don’t need to hide them,” he continued, looking at you, as you stare at the drawing in embarrassment. “If you want to draw me, then do,” he simply comments and takes a seat.

But this time he takes, intentionally, a seat where it’s easy for you to look at him. Because he’s quite flattered.

And you start finding new pen cases and paints among your old ones. Which he gets you, but doesn’t downright admit getting you. Instead, he gives half of a shrug with “you were spending them quite fast”. By which he means that he doesn’t want you to run out.

At times, when he sees you drawing, or painting, and there’s no one else in the room, he places a quick kiss onto your cheek.

He never minds if you want to draw him. Ask to draw him. And he will sit still for hours if you want to paint a portrait of him. Because love doesn’t know time spent together.

Liebe

Liebe can’t really, still, understand why you want to be with him. Because he is a devil. And he’s not… used to this. Someone liking him. After all, he has been picked on for most of his life, so thing is completely new to him.

Meaning that when he sees you scribbling something into your notebooks, or papers, and then not wanting to show him what you were doing; it makes him suspicious. It makes him weary. But he wants to trust you.

After a while he does confront you about it. And he wants to see what you’ve been putting in your notebooks.

So, you show him, and he… struggles to believe that too. That you’ve been making art of him.

“Why?” He asks.

“Be-cause… I like drawing you…” you reply. “Just… do”

It takes a while for him to really believe it, but he does. And after that he’s not as pushy about seeing your art, unless you want to show him.

But god help anyone who even implies something negative about your drawings. Because Liebe will not tolerate such. No one does that to someone who he cares about, and who cares for him in return.

[plutominho]

spidey kiss || lee know

✧ WRITTEN BY: max

✧ GENRE: established relationship, high school au, fluff

✧ PAIRING: lee know/minho x gn!reader

✧ SUMMARY: minho is a teensy bit distracting as you try to study for a test.

✧ WORD COUNT: 1.1k

✧ NOTES/WARNINGS: none!! 

✧ TAGLIST: @svtbabiesrecs @svtbabies​ @felix-neverbad​ (message me if you want to be on the taglist!)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

you blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to focusing on your notes in front of you. 

cramming review for a midterm during lunch wasn’t necessarily on your high school bucket list, yet here you were. 

perhaps if you hadn’t put off studying for weeks, you wouldn’t be here, stressed in an almost empty classroom when you were supposed to be having lunch. 

you could hear the sound of minho munching on some chips echoing off the classroom walls as he paced through the rows of desks. 

you’d told him to have lunch without you, but he’d insisted on “fulfilling his boyfriend duties” and staying with you. 

a part of him probably wished he was outside, in the fresh air, away from the dusty classroom, but he had made the commitment, and he had to stick with it.

he pulled up a chair and sat across from you at your desk, watching your face intently as you tried to focus on your work. 

“y/n.” he whispered. 

you ignored him, flipping your study guide to review the back side. 

“y/nn,” he whined, resting his forehead on the desk, some of his hair covering your paper. 

you pushed his forehead up with your palm, and he slumped back in his seat for a second before sitting up straight again. 

he pressed a chip up against your mouth, repeatedly poking between your top and bottom lip until you opened your mouth. 

“y/n, honey, you need to eat.” 

“no, i need to stud—“ 

you were cut off by minho pushing the chip into your mouth as you spoke, and you shot him a glare as you chewed roughly before looking back at your paper. 

he laughed to himself as he stood up, feeling accomplished. 

“if you don’t eat, you’re for sure going to fail! you’ll be too hungry to even think, and your stomach will be speaking to you during the test, ‘y/nnnnnnn, feed meeeeee’ and then you won’t be able to focus and then—“

“minho. please.”

he apologized softly, making an action of zipping his lips as he moved to stand behind you, massaging your shoulders rather roughly before proceeding to put another chip in your mouth and leaving again. 

you heard him go to the front, look out the door into the hallways, snoop around the teacher’s desk, and quickly doodle on the whiteboard before making his way to the back of the room. 

of course, he made sure to put another chip in your mouth when he walked past you to admire the posters on the classroom’s back wall. then he came to sit at the desk next to you. 

he rested his head on the desk, using his arm as a cushion as he turned his head to the side to look at you. 

you were grateful for him accompanying you and feeding you, knowing how bored he was not doing anything when he could’ve been enjoying his break.

“you look insanely attractive when you study,” he muttered, still looking at you. 

you scoffed, but suddenly felt self conscious as you glanced at him, his hair highlighted by the light coming from the window behind him. 

“no, i’m serious! smart people are sexy, y’know!” 

you let out a laugh in embarrassment, and he laughed to himself as you used your hand to hide your face from him. 

the laughter died down rather quickly, and you went back to studying and making quick notes to remember. 

you heard minho move around the room again, followed by the squeaking of dry erase markers on the whiteboard.

he got bored again, and moved to stand behind you, watching over your head as you continued studying. he reached his hands to your front, resting his wrists on your shoulders as his fingers fiddled with the necklace he’d given you for your birthday a few months prior. 

“y/n, look up.”

“min, i need to study…”

“please? i won’t bother you after this. i pinkie promise.”

he ran his hands through your hair, and you sighed as you craned your neck to look up at him. you groaned a little, feeling your back stretch against the metal school chair.

you had to blink a few times to bring him into focus, your eyes having been so used to staring closely at words on a page. 

“i wanna try something–” he laughed softly. “you look cute when you’re blinking like that.”

you looked up at him with a puzzled look on your face, wondering why he was acting excessively sweet all of a sudden. 

“thanks, can i…” 

you dropped your head to go back to studying, until you felt his cold hands cup your cheeks and tilt your head back again. 

“bro, what the hell?”

minho gasped. “don’t bro me! i’m your boyfriend! the love of your life! your soulmate!”

you rolled your eyes. “whatever, whatever. what are you gonna do?”

“oh, yeah! close your eyes.”

you closed your eyes and rested your head against his stomach as you waited in anticipation for a few seconds, wondering what he was going to do. 

before you knew it, you felt minho’s familiar pair of lips on yours, but something was different. they were… upside down?

it all clicked, and you laughed to yourself at how cheesy he was being. 

he kissed with uncertainty, not taking a lead like he usually did, as if he was carefully gauging your reaction. 

it was a strange sensation, feeling something so familiar suddenly feel so foreign. 

the two of you got the hang of it, your hands reaching up to gently rest over his, which were still resting on either side of your face. 

although he was upside down, you felt him smile into the kiss as you fell into a comfortable pace and he brushed his fingers against your jaw. 

he pulled away, kissing your forehead before letting you go completely and stepping away. 

“okay, thank you for your time! also, lunch ends in less than a minute, you might want to pack up now.”

as if on cue, the bell rang and signaled the end of lunch. he smiled widely, observing the dazed expression on your face as your fingers lingered over your lips.

“minho, you are going to be the death of me…” you muttered to yourself, shoving your things into your backpack. 

“oh, trust me honey, i know.”