trashsimp

[trashsimp]

When I want fluff fics and all I’m getting is smut

You sometimes just need fluff and not smut.

@tsirxyawntu

[trashsimp]

[trashsimp]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and you aren't around so they're in charge of their children.

pairing: dad & husband! alhaitham, kaveh, kaedehara kazuha, lyney, wriothesley x fem! reader

cw: original characters, domesticity, fluff. characters may look a bit ooc or not.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

ALHAITHAM

Hakim stirred restlessly beneath the blankets, his small face flushed with fever as his jade-green eyes slowly blinked open. A soft whimper escaped his lips, catching your attention, seated at the edge of his bed, pressing a damp cloth against his forehead.

“How are you feeling, my love?” you asked gently, brushing aside strands of his silver hair.

Hakim mumbled, burrowing deeper into the warmth of the covers. “It hurts, mummy... 'm hot…”

Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and your husband stepped inside, his usual impassive expression in place, though his gaze softened slightly at the sight of his son.

“I'll stay with him today,” Alhaitham said simply, crossing his arms.

You blinked. “Are you sure? Won't they miss you at work or—”

“It doesn’t matter,” his voice left no room for debate. “Hakim needs someone here, and you have an important meeting to attend.”

You hesitated but then sighed, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you, dear.” You pressed a kiss to Hakim's temple before standing up. “I'll leave some potions and instructions in the kitchen. Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids.”

Alhaitham gave a small nod, already rolling up his sleeves. “Go. He's in good hands.”

“I know he is,” you smiled softly and left, casting one last glance at your son before slipping out the door.

The morning that followed was mostly spent with Alhaitham staying by Hakim’s side, ensuring his comfort. Carefully, he fed the boy warm herbal soup, patiently insisting that he take slow sips, even when Hakim scrunched up his face at the taste.

“It's bitter…” Hakim murmured, wrinkling his nose.

“It's medicine, not dessert,” Alhaitham replied flatly. “You need to take it to get better.”

With a small sigh, Hakim relented, leaning tiredly against his father as he took another reluctant sip.

When the fever made Hakim restless, Alhaitham prepared a lukewarm bath, carefully lowering his son into the water. His touch was firm but gentle as he washed away the sticky sweat clinging to the boy’s skin. Hakim whimpered when the cooler water trickled over his forehead, but Alhaitham ran a calming hand through his damp hair, murmuring, “I know, Kim. Just a little longer.” 

When Hakim was finally cleaned and dressed with a new and fresh pair of pajamas, the scribe carried him back to bed, tucking him snugly beneath the covers. The soft hum of the ceiling fan and the steady presence of his father seemed to soothe the little boy, allowing him to finally rest.

It didn't take too long for Alhaitham also notice Hakim’s fever began to subside as his breathing grew more even. Seizing the opportunity, Alhaitham went about tidying the house—washing the dishes, straightening the furniture, and even preparing a simple but nutritious meal for later.

Once everything was in order, he headed to Hakim’s bedroom again and checked his asleep form from the doorframe, humming in satisfaction at the relaxed sight in the boy's features. With everything running as good as it could possibly be, Alhaitham finally settled onto the couch back in the living room, a book in hand, savoring the rare silence.

But it didn’t last long.

A small, sleepy voice called across the hall. “Baba?”

Alhaitham closed his book, immediately standing and making his way to Hakim’s room. The boy was sitting up, his eyes drowsy but alert. Without a word, Alhaitham effortlessly scooped him up, carrying him back to the couch.

“I'm here,” he murmured as he sat down, cradling Hakim against his chest. The boy clung to him sleepily, nuzzling into his father’s warmth.

Alhaitham picked up his book again and opened it. “Want me to read to you?”

Hakim gave a small nod, and without changing his calm tone, Alhaitham began reading his current text—an academic study on the evolution of Teyvat language.

The words were dense and complex, but the steady rhythm of his father’s voice lulled Hakim into a peaceful state, his blinks growing slower and slower.

By the time Alhaitham reached the end of the chapter, Hakim was already fast asleep.

A rare, faint smile touched Alhaitham’s lips as he adjusted a blanket around his son, pressing a silent kiss to his silver hair.

The house remained quiet, but this time, it was a comforting kind of silence.

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

The Kaedehara estate was unusually quiet that first night without you. 

Kazuha sat on the floor with Haruki nestled against his chest, his tiny fingers clutching at the fabric of his father’s haori. The little one had been fussier than usual, missing the warmth of his mother’s presence. Kazumi and Kiyomi sat on either side of him, their faces a mix of uncertainty and longing.

“Mama will be back soon, I promise,” Kazuha murmured, gently rubbing Haruki’s back. “But in the meantime, we must carry on and make the most of our days.”

Kiyomi leaned her head against Kazuha’s shoulder, letting out a little sigh. “I miss her…”

Kazumi, trying to be strong for his younger siblings, nodded but kept quiet. He wouldn’t admit how much he missed you too. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with Kiyomi’s, squeezing her hand.

That night, Kazuha tucked them all into bed with extra care. Haruki, after much rocking, finally drifted into a peaceful sleep. Kiyomi clutched one of your scarves as she dozed off, and Kazumi, despite his usual independence, asked if Kazuha would stay until he fell asleep. Kazuha did, running his fingers gently through his firstborn’s hair until his breathing evened out.

By the third day of your absence, though, the household had found a rhythm. Kazuha had planned small adventures to keep the children engaged. 

In the morning he’d reserve his time to help the older kids with their homework, his calm voice guiding them through difficult subjects. However, as soon as they got restless, he’d take all of them outside to the garden, where they played or trained together—Kiyomi, full of energy, attempting to mimic her father’s fluid sword techniques, and Kazumi practicing precise movements with quiet focus. Haruki, too small to participate, sat comfortably in his playpen, giggling at his siblings’ enthusiasm and having fun with his own toys as well.

Afternoons were filled with quieter moments, though.

Kazuha would prepare a meal, tying an apron around his waist as he balanced Haruki on his hip. Kiyomi eagerly assisted, though her true goal seemed to be sneaking tastes of the ingredients, while Kazumi helped set the table. After meals, Kazuha would help them to bathe and after everything was done, he'd gather everyone in the living room to read fairytale books to them—the soothing melody of his voice lulling Haruki into peaceful naps. Kiyomi would often lean against him, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth coming from her father's body, while Kazumi listened intently, his expression relaxed.

As the last afternoon before your return arrived, Kazuha gathered the children. “What’d you guys like to do today?”

“Street market!” Kiyomi and Kazumi chorused in excitement and Haruki clapped, almost like in agreement.

And so, the four of them ventured into town.

The marketplace was bustling with life—vendors calling out their wares, the scent of freshly grilled skewers wafting through the air, and colorful lanterns swaying overhead. Kazuha carried Haruki in one arm while holding Kiyomi’s hand in the other, with Kazumi walking confidently beside him.

“Ooh! Dango! Can we have one, please, 'tōchan?” Kiyomi blinked cutely.

Kazuha chuckled but agreed, purchasing a few sticks, ensuring Haruki had a small, soft piece to nibble on as well. 

They then stopped by a goldfish-scooping stall, where Kiyomi leaned forward with intense focus, trying to catch a golden fish.

“Careful now, Kiki,” Kazumi teased. “You don’t want to break the paper too fast.”

“I know what I’m doing!” the little girl huffed, her tongue sticking out slightly in determination. With careful precision, she managed to scoop up a small, wriggling fish, beaming proudly.

Kazumi gave it a try too, and while he had an air of confidence, his first scoop tore almost instantly. “Eh?” He blinked in surprise before laughing. Kazuha smiled beside him. 

“Even the steady hand of a swordsman can falter.”

With the sun beginning to set, they picked up some sweet pastries to bring home, a treat to celebrate the end of their eventful week.

Back to the estate, as the children helped set the table for dinner, Kazumi and Kiyomi whispered excitedly about their surprise at your return. Kiyomi arranged a bouquet of wildflowers they had gathered earlier, while Kazumi wrote a small welcome-home poem on a slip of parchment.

“I’ll make it extra pretty so mama loves it!” she declared proudly.

Haruki, too young to contribute much, remained in Kazuha’s arms, drowsily sucking on his pacifier. Kazuha smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to each of his children's heads. “I think she’ll be very happy to see all of you.”

And as the evening settled, Kazuha couldn’t help but feel a deep warmth in his heart. Even in your absence, your family had flourished, finding joy in each other’s company. Soon, you’d return, and your home would feel complete once more. But for now, he cherished the quiet laughter of his children, the scent of fresh flowers, and the anticipation of a joyful reunion.

KAVEH

Kaveh heaved a deep sigh as he stepped into his home, rolling his sore shoulders and rubbing his temple. The day had been grueling—endless site inspections, client complaints, and the ever-looming threat of deadlines.

The first thing that welcomed him was the scent of roses and something faintly herbal drifted through the air, drawing his attention toward the living room. And just in there you stood—giving the makeup a last touch-up with your hair pinned up with golden accessories, and a white qipao embracing your curves.

He nearly forgot his exhaustion.

“You look stunning, azizam,” he murmured, lips curving into a tired but genuine smile.

You turned at his voice, brows immediately furrowing in concern. “And you look exhausted, Kaveh. My goodness! It is starting to make me reconsider if I should go. I can stay—”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Kaveh waved a hand, marching forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “You deserve this night out. I can handle Zahra.”

“She can be a handful.”

“She is my handful, and I adore it,” he said, puffing his chest despite the clear fatigue in his voice. “Besides, I have a foolproof plan: playtime, dinner, bath, story time, sleep. Easy.”

You hummed, unconvinced, but he gave you an exaggerated grin and a thumbs-up. “Go, enjoy yourself. The girls are waiting, and if I recall, you’ve said something about have being challenged at dice again.”

That earned a chuckle from you, who finally relented. “Alright. But if you need me, don’t hesitate to come at me. I’m dead serious.”

Kaveh saluted you dramatically. “Yes, ma’am!”

With one last glance—one that lingered, as if memorizing him just in case—you left. The moment the door shut, Kaveh slumped against its wood with a deep sigh. Still, he didn't stay there for too long and soon crossed around the house's corridors looking for his daughter.

Zahra was in the middle of a grand pillow fortress when he found her, golden eyes bright with mischief. “Hi Daddy! Look! I made a castle!”

Kaveh grinned, kneeling beside her. “It's magnificent, my little architect. But I think it needs a tower here… and maybe a secret passage here?”

She gasped, completely entranced as the two of them got to work. What was meant to be a quick addition turned into an hour-long session of castle enhancements, dragon-slaying, and a daring escape from an imaginary evil mage.

Dinner followed, a messy affair of Zahra insisting she could eat with her hands and Kaveh attempting (and failing) to get her to use a spoon. “Zahra, my love, pasta is not finger food—oh, Archons, now it's in your hair!”

After a particularly splashy bath—where more water seemed to end up on Kaveh than in the tub—he wrestled a giggling Zahra into her pajamas. “You, little miss, are far too energetic tonight. Let’s get you into bed before I turn into a prune.”

Tucking Zahra into bed was the easiest part. Reading to her, however, was where the real challenge began.

“Tonight’s story is…” Kaveh yawned, flipping open a book, “The Adventure of the Clever Fox.”

He cleared his throat, sitting up straight. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly.

“Once upon a time in a vast forest—” a second yawn broke through “—lived a cunning fox who outwitted everyone he met.”

Zahra giggled as Kaveh attempted voices: a sly, slinking tone for the fox, a gruff, burly one for the bear, and a high-pitched squeak for the rabbit. But his words grew slower, syllables melting together.

“And then the fox said… said… uh…”

Zahra peeked up from under her blanket. “What did the fox say, daddy?”

Kaveh blinked rapidly, shaking himself awake. “Ah, yes! The fox said… Oh! Right. He said—” Another yawn. Another pause. “He said…”

Silence.

Zahra sat up. “Daddy?”

He was slumped against the headboard, mouth slightly open, the book resting on his chest nearly falling on the ground.

Asleep.

Zahra giggled and poked her father's cheek, testing how deep he fell asleep. Kaveh, in response, remained out like a light, completely oblivious to his surroundings. She took the book from his chest, flipping to a random page. “And then the fox said—” she mimicked, turning the book upside down and reading in an exaggerated voice, though the words were nowhere near what was actually written.

When you returned home a couple of hours later, you were greeted by an unexpected sight: Zahra, wide awake, cross-legged on the bed, reading (or attempting to) while Kaveh snored beside her.

You bit back a laugh, stepping forward. “What’s going on here?”

Zahra beamed. “Daddy slept before telling me what the fox said, so I read it for him!”

You leaned down, brushing back Kaveh’s hair before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He barely stirred.

“You did a great job, sweetheart," you whispered, picking Zahra up. “But it's past your bedtime. How about you sleep with mommy tonight? Let's let daddy get some rest here tonight.”

The little girl eagerly agreed, and you led her back to your own bedroom, quickly stripping off your robes and accessories and getting your nighttime routine going so that Zahra wouldn't be kept awake waiting for you for too long.

As you settled beside your daughter under the blankets, Zahra’s sleepy voice murmured, “Daddy tried his best…”

You chuckled, putting a stroke of her blonde hair behind her ear. “He really did, didn't he?”

And as Zahra drifted off to sleep in the warmth of your embrace, across the hall, Kaveh let out a soft snore, his hand twitching slightly, as if still lost in dreams of clever foxes and bedtime stories.

LYNEY

The morning light gently streamed through the curtains of the twins' bedroom, casting a delicate golden glow over the cozy space. 

Lyney leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a soft smile on his lips as he observed the scene before him—two little lumps hidden beneath a sea of blankets, completely indifferent to the sunrise light.

“Time to wake up, little ones,” he called playfully, taking a few steps into the room. No response. He sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “What a tragedy! It seems my dear children have been turned into statues overnight! What should I do?” Still nothing. He could hear their soft breathing, confirming they weren’t so asleep as before.

Smiling, he tried a different approach. “Oh my... I guess I’ll have to eat all the pancakes by myself.”

Quentin’s reaction was immediate. The little boy threw the blankets aside, revealing a mess of tousled hair. “Pancakes?” He said almost in disbelief, his purple eyes still half-closed from sleep, but already moving by instinct. He jumped out of bed in a hurry, only pausing to give his father a good morning kiss on the cheek before dashing to the bathroom.

Lyney laughed, rubbing the spot where his son had kissed him. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

He turned his attention to Corinne, who was still curled up under the covers, unmoving. Lyney crouched beside the bed and gently pulled the blankets down just enough to reveal his daughter’s sleepy and serene little face. “Cori, sweetheart, time to wake up,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

A small whimper escaped her lips as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of her bed. “’m still sleepy, papa…”

Lyney’s heart melted. “I know baby girl, but it's time to get up…” he murmured, sliding his arms under her small body. Corinne let out a soft sigh as he effortlessly lifted her, her sleepy little head resting against his shoulder. He pressed a tender kiss to her temple before carrying her to the twins’ shared bathroom, where Quentin was already washing his face.

With one hand, Lyney dampened a cloth and gently wiped Corinne’s face. She mumbled softly but didn’t resist. “There, all fresh and beautiful,” Lyney sang, helping her brush her teeth and comb her hair.

“Papa!” Corinne murmured when he picked up the brush to separate her silky strands for a braid. “Not too tight.”

Lyney immediately loosened his touch. “Oh! Sorry,” he quickly apologized, loosening the braid a bit more. She let out a small sound of approval, allowing him to continue. Once he was done, he tied it with a lilac ribbon. “Voilà! Ready for breakfast.”

With both children's morning routine done and they dressed properly, the trio finally made their way to the kitchen, where a stack of fluffy pancakes awaited them. The twins eagerly dug in, Quentin pouring syrup over his pancakes while Corinne savored each bite slowly. Lyney couldn’t help but smile as he sipped his morning tea, watching his little ones enjoy their meal.

The rest of the morning was filled with activities. First, he helped them with their homework—simple number and letter exercises—then came cleaning time, which quickly turned into playful chaos.

Quentin and Corinne tried to help with dusting and sweeping, but their tiny hands only made more of a mess. At one point, Quentin tripped over the broom, sending dust flying everywhere, making his twin sister burst into laughter. Lyney sighed, knowing he would’ve to redo everything later, but their joyful laughter made it all worth it.

By noon, it was time for lunch. “Let’s make something special,” Lyney suggested, flipping through your recipe book.

“Ooh! Moon pie, moon pie!” Corinne pointed excitedly at a page.

Lyney raised an eyebrow. “Ah, ambitious! But why not? Let’s do it.”

Quentin tugged at his father’s sleeve. “Please, no onions, papa.”

The magician chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “No onions, got it.”

Cooking with the twins turned the kitchen into absolute chaos. Flour covered their faces and hair, bits of dough stuck to their fingers, and eggshells ended up in the most unexpected places. Quentin was in charge of mixing the filling, while Corinne carefully arranged the crust. At one point, Lyney noticed Corinne placing tiny decorative stars on top of the pie with an expression of absolute concentration.

“It looks wonderful, Cori,” Lyney praised, kissing her forehead.

With the pie in the oven, they moved on to making cookies, shaping them into hearts, moons, and even little cat faces. Quentin insisted on adding extra chocolate chips, saying it was “the secret to making them magical.”

By the time the food was ready, the kitchen was a disaster, but the pie smelled divine. They sat down to eat together, and even Lyney had to admit—it was delicious.

After lunch, the twin began yawning, their morning energy finally running out. Kitchen could be cleaned later. At this very moment, Lyney just wanted to enjoy his children a little bit more. 

The magician guided them to the couch, covering them with a soft blanket there. “Why don’t you take a little nap while the cookies are still baking? By the time you wake up they‘ll be ready to be eaten,” he whispered, gently stroking their hair.

Corinne nodded and snuggled against him, her tiny hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. “I love you, papa,” she murmured sleepily.

Quentin, already half-asleep, echoed, “Love you, papa…”

Lyney’s heart swelled as he pressed a soft kiss to each of their heads. “Je vous aime aussi, mes amours.”

As their breathing slowed, Lyney remained there, holding them close, listening to the soft hum of the oven and the gentle patter of rain against the window. A moment of peace, perfect—a memory he'd cherish forever.

WRIOTHESLEY

The morning air of the Fortress of Meropide carried the scent of sea salt and diesel oil from the working machines, mingling with the distant murmur of underground streams.

Back in his family private quarters, though, Wriothesley sat at the dining table, sipping his black tea calmly as he thumbed through the latest news from The Steambird. Across from him, you hurriedly nibbled on a slice of toast, your mind clearly elsewhere.

“I wish you’d eat more before leaving,” Wriothesley murmured, watching as you stood up and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yeah, I know. But I woke up at the last minute today. I’ll make sure to grab something later, though. Don’t worry,” you assured him, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Cameron is your responsibility today. Behave, love.”

His lips curved into a playful smirk. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?”

You only smirked before heading toward the door. “Bye, sweetheart! Have fun with your dad today!” you called over your shoulder.

From the hallway, a soft voice replied, “Bye, mommy.”

Wriothesley turned just in time to see his son, still in pajamas, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he entered the dining room.

“Good morning, champ,” Wriothesley greeted warmly. “Hungry?”

Cameron nodded but didn’t ask for help. Instead, he made his way to the kitchen, carefully pushing a stool to the counter so he could reach the bread and jam. Wriothesley watched in an amused delight, resting his chin on his hand, as his six-year-old meticulously prepared his own breakfast. His heart swelled with pride—Cameron was growing up so fast.

“You know... I could've made something else for you,” Wriothesley suggested, taking another sip of tea.

“That's okay, daddy. I can do it myself,” the little boy replied, spreading the jam on his toast with determined focus.

A small chuckle escaped Wriothesley. Not long ago, he carried this boy everywhere, and now Cameron was set on doing things on his own.

After finishing his meal, Cameron cleaned up his own messy by putting them into the dishwasher, heading to the bathroom where he brush his teeth, and a couple of minutes later, he returned to his father already dressed. Wriothesley looked at him approvingly, though he couldn’t help the bittersweet pang in his chest.

“Alright, let’s head to my office,” Wriothesley said, ruffling Cameron’s hair. The boy pouted but didn’t protest much.

Once inside the office, Cameron settled on the floor with his building blocks while Wriothesley started his reports. The steady sound of wood tapping against wood filled the room as Cameron focused on his creation, occasionally pausing to inspect it with critical eyes.

“Need help with that?” Wriothesley asked, noticing that Cameron was struggling to balance a particularly tall structure.

“No, I can do it.”

“Alright, alright.” Wriothesley chuckled softly and leaned back in his chair—but his eyes never went too far from his son's little form.

A few moments later, Cameron found himself tired of playing so he decided to jump to another activity. He picked up a homework book from his school bag he had brought earlier and started scribbling some numbers and letters. It wasn’t long before his pencil stopped, and he frowned at the page.

“Stuck on something?” Wriothesley asked.

Cameron hesitated, gripping his pencil tighter, but he said nothing. He could handle the problem by himself easily. Well… that’s what he wanted to believe, at least.

Wriothesley smiled knowingly but let him try. Only after five more minutes did Cameron finally give in, standing up and walking shyly over to his father’s desk.

“Uh…Daddy,” he murmured, almost in a whisper. “Can you help me with this?”

Wriothesley’s heart melted at the timid request. He patted his lap, and when Cameron hesitated, he gently pulled him up to sit there, just like he used to when he was smaller. “Of course, Cam. Let’s take a look.”

Together, they worked through the problem, Wriothesley’s voice soft and patient. Cameron, despite all his independence, nestled into his father’s warmth, his small fingers gripping Wriothesley’s sleeve.

Maybe he was growing up, but he’d always be Wriothesley’s little boy.

And that was more than enough.

[trashsimp]

I have a request for joker (could you use akira for the name please).

Something like his s/o is also in the phantom thieves and when they are in safe rooms she likes to do small braids in his hair, also while chilling out at leblanc maybe :3

Might be a silly request but I thought it was cute, have a great day!

persona 5: playing with his hair (akira kurusu/ren amamiya)

notes: akira kurusu for protag, fluff, fem!reader, reader is a phantom thief, this might be sliiightly inaccurate since i haven't touched p5 in a while and idc to check myself

you were grinding through mementos one day with the rest of the phantom thieves, and things were going pretty well! shadows were being slain, treasure was being looted, and you were overall having a fun time riding around in morgana's van form.

you were grateful, though, for makoto's recent membership of the team. she was better at driving the van than akira was (bless his heart), which meant she took the wheel while akira sat in the passenger's seat, telling her where to go.

you sat behind him in the second row of seats, often leaning your head on the seat in front of you, sometimes babbling to get akira's attention. he'd always reach back to ruffle your hair or playfully offset your mask.

but your attention always drifted to his hair - his soft and undoubtedly fluffy head of black feathery hair. you'd been together for a while, so physical interactions weren't uncommon, but you've never really asked him if you could play with his hair.

you really, really wanted to play with his hair. holy shit, you wanted nothing more than to do that. but now wasn't the right time, being in mementos and all. you'd have to strategise for another time.

thankfully, that time came when after leaving mementos, akira invited you back to leblanc to destress and chill out. he'd make some coffee, you two would chat and cuddle, probably watch some tv.

you accepted, obviously, and taking his hand in yours, led you through the subway system to yongen-jaya and to leblanc. after pouring the two of you a damn good cup of coffee, you two went upstairs to his room in the attic.

after watching a few episodes of that cheesy action show you two like to riff on (and getting the neo featherman r theme song stuck in your head), you two migrated to his bed. akira sat down and extended his arms, inviting you in for a spooning sesh, but you waved your hands in denial.

after a puzzled and slightly pouty look from your boyfriend, you clarified what you meant: "i wanna be big spoon. i kinda... wanna play with your hair? is that cool?"

akira's eyes lit up and he adjusted his glasses that slipped down his face. a slightly goofy grin played across his lips and he shuffled on the bed, allowing you to slot yourself behind him.

"yeah, sure! go right ahead."

you quickly got to work, running your hands through his hair (which was still surprisingly soft and felt like heaven's clouds within your fingertips). you twirled some strands around your digits here and there and massaged his scalp.

akira leaned his head back into your touch, smiling all the while. you could've sworn you heard him purring (maybe that was your imagination, or maybe he was spending too much time with morgana).

you pressed a kiss to the side of his temple and kept playing with his hair long into the night...

a/n: cat-coded joker ftw!!! also i love writing akira being more, like, a dork? i love his canon characterisation in the anime and it's not something i see often. you'll be seeing more silly goofy joker from me if y'all request it lmao

[trashsimp]

Hello!

Can I request a x reader involving Mikoto switching to John?

Tysm love your work!!!

“PULL IT OUT OF PARK, PUT IN DRIVE. I CAN FEEL YOUR HEART BEATIN' WITH MINE ...”

authors note » this christmas i had an epiphany and immeadiately rewrote what i previously had down for this. THANK YOU FOR THE REQ NONNIE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

“Is this okay? am I squeezing you too tight?”

Your boyfriend quipped, he was always incredibly worried about his under-used muscles accidentally crushing you to death whenever you snuggled up like this.

you shook your head, assuring him it was fine. you were so grateful for little moments like these, he hardly got any free time to spend with you, and he felt incredibly guilty about it. you knew it wasn't intentional, or his fault, but sometimes, you seriously felt like he was dating his job instead of you.

“Hey, sweetheart? you there? are you listening?”

he gently shook you, clearly worried that you were ignoring him, or that you fell asleep. You smiled and patted his head, a nonverbal indication that he could keep talking.

He took the cue, resuming his rant about how the stars were a lot less clear today and how he wanted to show you something really pretty, you could only giggle at how disappointed he seemed — it was still beautiful.

you were almost tempted to make the 'not as beautiful as you' joke, but maybe now wasn't the time for it.

As quickly as you zoned out the first time, you did again. You noticed him stir slightly, snapping you out of your state yet again.

He rubbed his eyes, after a few seconds, his demeanor shifted entirely. You could tell from the way his hands grew a lot more firm and stable around your figure, and the way his breathing stabilized with them, you weren't really cuddling with Mikoto anymore.

“John?” you called out, like you were making sure it was actually John and not the other one who did the funky thing with his hair who hadn't really told you his name yet. you heaved a sigh of relief when he responded with a barely audible “hmm?”

“Just enjoy this, I'll keep quiet so you can pretend its him or—”

He started, but you shut him up really quick by nuzzling your face into his chest, causing a soft blush to spread across his cheeks. As much as he loved you, he hadn't really gotten used to your affection yet.

He stroked your hair, playing with it gently, almost like he was afraid to hurt you, as you both stared at the winter night sky in comfortable silence.

“The stars are pretty today.”

He murmured softly, you made a small noise in agreement. Your ears picked up the sound of a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Maybe almost as pretty as you...”

[trashsimp]

HIII can i req for an alnst guys x mua!reader (afab) ? i want to touch their faces ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

“you like the pretty boys, with the pretty voice!”

show: alien stage

characters: till, ivan and luka

summary: he doesn’t just need to sing his best, he has to look his best too! producers have decided on pairing you up with him, meaning you would be spending lots of time tending to his physical appearance.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, till has never felt the touch of a woman before

↣ till

the door of his room opens, making till stand up cautiously from his bed. he was already forced into his outfit for today’s photoshoot, and now he awaited the dreadful makeup process.

you show up in the doorway, a girl around the same age as till, with a bag of items and a few electronics. “morning, till.” you say, walking in and placing your things on the desk. he visibly relaxes. “don’t you look good today.”

“shut up…” he mumbles back, walking over to you. he sits down in the chair you pull out, seating him in front of the mirror.

“okay, so i got told that you need a more bold look for the photoshoot today.” you claim, placing your hands on his shoulders, “you gonna’ let me do my work or are we gonna’ have another argument?”

“you can do whatever, i don’t even care anymore.” he groans, sick and tired of all these brand deals. his owner was running him dry with everything he was made to be doing recently. “do your magic.”

“good.” you say, opening your bag. you pick up one of the devices you brought with you, tossing it up into the air. it blossoms, opening up to show a ball of light coming from the centre. you point it towards till, getting a proper view of his face. “seems like the skincare routine i gave you is working.”

“isn’t it bad to keep putting all these things on my face?” he grumbles, feeling you grasp his chin. he averts his eyes while you inspect his face, gentle hands on his cheeks.

“not these ones.” you claim, feelings his cheeks heat up under your touch. you smile at him. “but it’s not like you really needed it anyway. the producer just said to get you on them. i thought you were already quite handsome.”

he closes his eyes, pulling back and running fingers through his hair. “anyway, what are we doing now?” he clears his throat, trying to calm down his heart.

“oh, right.” you say, taking the other device and turning it on, making a swivel stool for you to sit on. you move closer towards him, knee bumping with his. “okay, close your eyes for me, pretty boy.”

“stop it…” he mutters to you, doing as you say and leaning forward into your hands.

he’s patient with you, in a way that he isn’t with anyone else. which is why you were matched with him, he didn’t swear at you or thrash around. you made him out to be a tamed puppy, sitting as he waits for your touch. you found it cute.

you brushed your fingers against his jaw, making him itch closer to you. his hands grip the bottom of his chair, breath hitching as you dragged the brush along his face. you were delicate with him, holding his face and turning it when you needed. and he was willing to let you do whatever you needed.

“okay, that looks good.” you hum, retracting your hands. he always follows, but opens his eyes to stare at you. “let me do your lashes now. just some mascara, that’s all.”

you see the sour look on his face, making you roll your eyes. as you do your work, till sits quietly, careful not to move. you hold his jaw in your hand, focusing on your hands. but his head is running with how close you are to him. if he were to lean any closer, you would be kissing the guy…

instead, you lean back, bringing the light closer to his face. “ah, sorry, i got some on your cheek.” you huff, taking out a makeup pad.

you brush it against where you had smudged mascara on him, holding his face closer to yours. he’s entranced by your beauty. how your eyes are so focused on him and nothing else, how you smile at him after finished a part of his makeup. you were the most beautiful person to him.

he feels your knee knock against his inner thigh, making him look at you sheepishly. you were digging through your bag for the eyeliner and eyeshadow, claiming that he needed dark colours.

“i think we should go with black.” you say, holding out some palettes, “pick one, any will look good on you.”

he doesn’t even look at them for long, just picking out the one in the middle. you smile at him and nod your head, beginning the next stage. it takes a bit longer, till unable to keep still with how your legs are touching his, and your hands are tenderly holding his cheek. his brows knit unconsciously and you stop.

“till, relax. i can’t do your makeup like that.” you sigh, tilting your head, “i’m nearly done, promise.”

he tries to do so, resulting in upturned brows. your hold was too much! “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m just… i don’t know.”

“hm. it’s okay, i’ll be coming with you to the photoshoot.” you inform him, making till perk up a little. you do a few more touches before setting down the brush, inspecting your work and nodding your head. “there you go.”

he open his eyes and looks in the mirror. he looked pretty good, you were so skilled. “thank you, y/n.”

he turns back to you, seeing how you were already staring back at him. you were still so close, not wavering at all.

“you’re welcome, handsome.” you chime, grinning at him. you caress his cheek for a few seconds before beginning to pull away.

but till lurches forward, pressing his lips to yours. his eyes are squeezed shut, so overwhelmed with emotions. the electricity built up with every single touch you gave him, lingering or not. you had to have known what you were doing to him, you were so purposeful!

your hand returns to his jaw, gently holding him as you kissed back. till’s hands sit just beneath your waist, on top of your legs as he drags you closer. he needed more of your touch.

till goes from eager and rough to smooth and calm in a few seconds, slowing down and pulling away almost hesitantly. he is still in a daze, staring at your lips as you both gather your thoughts. and when he does, he widens his eyes and pulls away hastily.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he yelps, covering his face. he couldn’t believe himself, when did he have that much courage around you? his voice is muffled behind his hands, and his eyes are squeezed shut. “that was a mistake, please forgive me—”

you smooch his knuckles covering his mouth, a short but sweet one. he stops, freezing up at your warmth.

“it’s fine, till.” you say, grinning at him, “i liked it a lot. but i… i kind if ruined your make up a bit. let me fix it, okay?”

he drops his hand and lets you hold his face again, picking up your brush to do your touch ups. but he squeezes his eyes shut again and has to look away as soon as you’re finished. you looked even more beautiful! how could this be happening?

“till,” you say, putting your things away in your bag, “don’t be embarrassed.”

“i’m not!” he mumbles back at you, standing up, “let’s go now!”

you have to chase him down after packing away your things, seeing how red his face was. till swears he will never look you in the eye ever again.

↣ ivan

“oh, there you are.” you say, leaning against your makeup desk. the door shuts behind him, making the sound of people on the other side quiet down. “took you long enough, ivan.”

“the costumes were mixed up.” he explains, tugging at his collar to loosen it up.

you pull out the chair for him, letting ivan sit down before you set him in front of the mirror. “you know you’re not supposed to keep a girl waiting.” you joke, sitting on top of the desk and unlocking the box of makeup.

“you say that as if she isn’t obligated to wait for me.” he huffs at you, leg over his knee. he glances at your irritated face. “so what are you doing to me today?”

“clean look.” you reply, popping open the foundation.

he nods his head, watching as you take a sponge and begin to apply it on his face. you were gentle with him, slowly moving his chin to face where you needed him to face. you eyes barely strayed from him, and to say he didn’t enjoy the attention would be a lie.

one of the reason he was happy to be paired up with you was because you paid such close attention to him. when trialing to be his makeup artist, you brought him some tea to help with his throat. he asked you how you knew he liked that flavour, and you told him you saw him drink it last week. from then on, he had been stuck to you like glue.

the guy lets you do what you need to, staying as still as possible. but he opens an eye when you let out a groan. “what’s wrong?”

your fingers leave him face, almost taking all his warmth with you, as you crane your neck. “no, nothing. just hurts my neck.” you explain, hopping off the desk.

ivan blinks as you come closer to him, holding his chin in your hands to make him look up at you. you stood in between his legs, makeup brush in your other hand. ivan leans back in his chair, putting out his other leg as you come so close that his chest is nearly touching you.

“close your eyes again, okay?” you mumble out, going back to your work. you hold the back of his neck to soothe the position of his head, picking out a good colour for him. as you finish, you feel ivan’s warm hands place themselves on your waist, holding you in position. “is something wrong?”

“hm? oh, nothing.” he replies, brushing his thumb against the hem of your shirt. you shiver at the touch, hastily placing a hand on his to stop him. he opens his eyes again, seeing your flustered expression. a smile tugs at his lips. “are you alright?”

“y—yeah…” you mumble out, carefully taking your hand off his. you sigh out, trying to finish off what you needed to do. ivan is quiet, smile still on his face as you work. “okay. i’m done.”

your fingers leave his face. but you don’t get very far before he takes your hand in his. his lips press against your knuckles, gently and cautiously. you freeze up, holding your breath and staring at him. his other hand holds you in place, keeping you close to him.

he peers at you from his seat, a certain glint in his eyes. “thank you, y/n.” he mumbles against your hand.

you hold your hand close to your chest as he releases you. “what’s going on today, ivan? you’re more touchy than usual.”

“is that bad?” he asks, tilting his head.

“no, it’s not bad.” you explain, taking your brushes and putting them in the box. you could feel your face flushing, you couldn’t turn back to him. you knew he would be wearing that clueless smile. and you would be stammering for your words. “so, um… is this the only thing you’re filming today?”

“yes.” he replies, watching as you carefully put everything away. even in the mirror, you don’t look at him. “are you busy for the rest of the day?”

“no, actually. i’m heading back after this.” you say, grabbing your jacket and tugging it on. after taking a breath in, you turn to him. “i’ll tell them you’re ready.”

ivan stands up, running fingers through his hair before stepping closer to you, his hands finding your jaw. you freeze up, shivering under his touch. your lower back hits the desk, making you lay hands on the wood. he makes you feel like you’re going crazy.

“you’re gorgeous, you know.” he mumbles out, staring at you with piercing eyes.

“uh, thank you, ivan, i—hmph!”

he captures your lips in a single moment, holding onto your shoulder gently. your hands find his face again, caressing him as you slowly melt into him. your eyes flutter shut as his do, feeling overwhelmed with such warmth that you find yourself chasing after him when he pulls away.

ivan chuckles, leaning forward once more to peck you on the lips again. you open your eyes, stunned. “why did you—”

“i should go now, it’ll be starting in five minutes.” he says, checking the clock. ivan leans away, gathering himself and fixing his hair in the mirror behind you before moving to the door. he stops with his hand on the doorframe as it slides open. “i’ll see you after, okay?”

you nod your head slowly, gulping down your nerves.

“good.” he smiles, walking out of the room, “see you, y/n.”

↣ luka

“good job, luka.” you compliment him, waiting in the wings for him to come off stage. he pants, wiping sweat off his brow. you smile, holding pit a towel. “ready for makeup? full dress rehearsal today.”

“right.” he huffs out, patting his face dry. he follows you to his dressing room, feeling a little tired. “what have you been up to?”

“waiting for you.” you respond, opening the door and closing it behind him. he sighs, tiredly sitting in the makeup chair by the mirror. you blink at his state, walking over and placing a hand on his cheek. he stirs. “oh, luka… how much sleep did you get last night?”

“not much.” he groans, rubbing his eyes. you furrow your brows, retracting your hand. “it’s fine. let’s start.”

you blink at him before nodding, beginning your work. luka was probably the best one of your clients when it came to makeup, he cared a lot about his appearance, and he appreciated your work. the only difference with now is that he isn’t giving you some snarky remark or flirting with you through his eyes. he was genuinely sleepy.

“lift your head up higher, luka.” you say, taking the brush away from his face. he only hums out to you, eyes still closed. “luka.”

sighing, you step closer to him, taking his face in your hand and holding his chin up higher. he doesn’t make a sound, only leaning into your palm. “you seriously need to take a nap.”

“mhm.” he says, placing his hands on the back of your knees gently. you squirm in your spot, making him peer open an eye. “i have practice though.”

“it’s a shame.” you sigh, brushing your thumb against his cheek, “you look so pretty when you’re sleeping.”

“creep.” he mutter out.

you roll your eyes, moving the brush tip around his eyelids. he stills for a moment. “i think i overheard one of the producers saying you were losing your voice and that you’re on vocal rest.” you claim, “so shouldn’t you be keeping quiet?”

he nods his head at that after you pull away, his thumbs drawing on the sides of your legs. his blue fingers dance along your pants, listening to you move around. you were delicate with him, no matter how much trouble he caused you. the first time you did his makeup, he complained that he didn’t like it and refused to perform.

but now, he was astounded by how you carefully pat your thumb against his temple, as if soothing him.

“you’re much more bearable when you’re quiet.” you sigh, “it’s such a shame that you’ve got such a pretty voice, and you use it to be annoying.”

he furrows his brows, lifting his head away from you. his eyes open to see your smile. luka rolls his eyes at you, running fingers through his hair. you turn away to grab something from your bag, popping open the bottle and getting ready to use it.

“since you can’t talk, i’ll let you know that i was at mizi’s practice yesterday.” you explain, being careful not to smudge your work as it dries. luka lets out a small sigh. “she was telling me about how she misses homemade food. i told her that she and sua should come over to mine and i’ll make something for them.”

he peeps open an eye again, giving you a look. you raise a brow and sigh, “you said my cooking was good.”

you lift your finger from his cheek, applying the most palest pink you have on him by a loose brush. his skin was so smooth, making your job a lot easier since it wouldn’t take much to make him look presentable.

“it is.” he mumbles out, suddenly moving his arms to lay atop your hips. you sigh through your nose, annoyed at how he ignores his orders to keep quiet. “why’re you cooking for them? they don’t know how to?”

“i didn’t say that, luka.” you huff, pushing his hair off his forehead, “i actually heard from till that mizi is a great cook.”

“that boy only ever sings praises about her.” luka rolls his eyes. you chuckle, knowing he was right. the blonde hugged you closer to himself, cheek squished against your stomach. “what has she ever done to deserve it?”

“don’t be mean. so jealous, luka.” you say to him, smiling softly. he peers up at you before tilting his head.

“me? jealous of her?” he scoffs at you, shaking his head and pulling himself off of you. you were done anyway, now beginning to pack up you belongings. “that’s outrageous of you to say, y/n.”

“seems like it though.” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. when you turn back around to him, luka looks upset. he crosses his arms, pout playing on his lips as he stared at the ground. you sigh, patting his shoulder, “it’s fine, you’re still the world’s favourite human singer.”

“yeah.” he huffs out, barely audible.

you furrow your brows, leaning over and placing a plan on his shoulder. “look, you’re a great singer and you’re handsome. what more could you ask for?”

he mumbles, looking back at you, “do you like me?”

“of course i do.” you reply, scanning his face. he only gives you an unconvinced look. you roll your eyes.

leaning forward to him, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. he stills for a quick second, but soon enough you feel him melt against you. his palm rests against your cheek, pulling you closer. he feels warm when you hold yourself away just enough to kiss him.

his hair has always felt silky smooth. it brushes against your forehead, kissing your skin. his whole body felt like it was pouring itself into you. he wanted to belong.

you pull away before you ruin anymore of his makeup, blinking your eyes a few times at his dazed expression. “i like you, luka.” you say sternly, looking him dead in the eye, “i’m not lying. promise.”

luka thinks to himself for a moment before sighing and standing up. he looks back at you with the tiniest smile. “thanks, y/n.”

“good. now, let’s go. i’ll watch your rehearsals.” you say, patting his back as you walk him to the door. you fix his sleeves, smoothing out the creases.

“good luck, luka.” you chime, standing on the sidelines.

he stares at you for a moment before replying, “thank you.”

[trashsimp]

pops in

VANA. PRECIOUS. THOUGHTS ABT HSR PAPAS 321 GO!

⭒ HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS DADS

fem reader x jing yuan, sunday, dr ratio, blade + aventurine ( seperate ) ; fluff. dad au. random papa scenarios for my maryse. petnames used; my dear, my love. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.

⭒ JING YUAN

it had become a habit of sorts, an adorable one at that, whenever your husband- the well respected general of the cloud knights would insist that he have some time with your daughter to give you a rest from your usual responsibilities. jing yuan would always ask you with the smoothest drawl, kissing along your cheeks while the little one clung around her daddy’s neck and you can’t deny the affect seeing him being so loving with her had on you, you could hardly resist it.

although it did always end up the same way, you’d come home from your errands- your appointments that you finally managed to squeeze in now that he was home on leave for a few days despite the every growing workload he has. but you’d return home to a quiet house, finding the two sleeping figures of your husband and your daughter curled up on the couch after the hard day you’re sure they’ve had.

but they look peaceful, your daughter pressing around jing yuan’s chest while one of her dads muscled arms keep her there with no trouble. it’s impossible for you to not wind up resting in the couch beside them as you curl up against your husbands chest.

you know he’s awake when his lips curl up into a soft grin almost immediately when he feels you press against him, “long day?” you drawl and he groans, quietly as to not wake the sleeping child.

“hah, oh yes, you didn’t see the tea party. our daughters ability to entertain a crowd is quite awe-inspiring.” you feel your husband, jing yuan’s, free arm drop from the back of the sofa to curl around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your cheek is resting softly on his muscled shoulder. you feel the tension from your day melt away as you snuggle into him.

“you mean her plushies?” you laugh softly and your husband finally decides to peek open his sleepy gaze to admire you, followed by a gentle look towards his daughter that’s still sound asleep against him.

“ofcourse, theyre the guests of honour.” jing yuan speaks teasingly, albeit matter of factly as he raises a brow at you and you snort before leaning in to steal a quick peck from his lips. although you struggle to pull yourself away when he decides to hold you there a little longer, lips lingering on yours as he smiles into the kiss.

but eventually, he relents when you tap playfully on his chest, “well, general- i better start cleaning up.” you smile but his arm around your shoulders only seems to lock around you even tighter. you couldn’t move even if you tried as he gets himself comfortable again, moving your daughter softly until he has both of you squished on either sides of his body.

“nonsense, my dear- i just got quite comfortable, so i’m afraid you can’t leave yet.” jing yuan purrs and you give him a look from beneath your lashes when he rolls his head back again, resting his eyes closed despite the way he’s still grinning softly.

“you going to spend your entire leave from work sleeping?” you tease and his chest bounces slightly when he chuckles.

“hm, well nothing is of utmost importance to me quite like spending time my two favourite girls. so, join me?” he murmurs quickly because he knows you can’t ever say no to them. he’s right, you can’t help but find yourself looking over your drowsy little family fondly as you gaze between your husband and your daughter. she’s like a perfect mixture of you both as her cheek squishes against your husbands chest.

it is almost unfair how easy it is to give in to the both of them as you rest your cheek against the other side.

⭒ SUNDAY

you had no doubts that sunday would be a great father, so when you’d been lucky enough to bare two of his children, you felt more at ease than afraid despite the lifestyle change because you knew you would have him there to take care of you. your children resembled your husband most, his halovian genes with their wings and halo, his eyes - they were perfect mixtures of you both.

they’d taken up your mannerisms and personality despite their fathers looks which unfortunately for your husband.. meant he was weaker to them than some may expect from the head of the oak family. you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t caught you off guard too; but you found it to be quite charming whenever you’d be lucky enough to oversee how they were the ones that seemed to be controlling everything around them.

“we have spoken about this before, my dear. dessert must be saved for after dinner, do you remember? but fret not, your meals will be ready soon.” you hear the smooth sound of sundays voice from the kitchen as you push your way through the door, being greeted by your daughter and son standing at his feet as the two young children cross their arms. their expressions are grumpy and temperamental, although you can’t deny that it definitely mirrors an expression of your own as you try to hide your giggle at the scene.

“we don’t want to wait.” “yeah! we want it right now.” your husband squeezes the space between his brows as the two children back eachothers replies, it makes you wonder how long this conversation has actually been going on when he sighs. it was well known that sunday favoured being in control and although your children were well-behaved- they were just smart enough to have picked up on your husbands seemingly weak spot when it was two against one.

“yes, that is quite understandable. but i cannot allow you to have sweets before proper nutrion, that is not how meals are enjoyed, dessert must come after.” sunday tries again as he stands up straighter and you assume it’s an act of trying to appear much like an authoritive figure. although the gesture is met by a few small stomps of tiny feet as they whine.

“daddy, we want dessert now.” “dessert! dessert! dessert!” the children chant and you swear you can see the strings of your husbands sanity begin to pluck and snap as his shoulders drop, his posture hunching slightly with his next sigh.

“f-fine. we will have dessert first this once. but it sh’ant happen again, is that clear?” sunday huffs despite the fact his weak resolve is met with cheers from your children as you hide your laugh behind your palm in the doorway. it was quite amusing to see the head of the oak family and such a well known public figure fall victim to two pre-schoolers.

you hear sunday grumble again as the children wrap themselves around his legs. “yes, yes. your resilience is quite extraordinary.. i wonder who exactly you get that from.” he scoffs and your husbands gaze lifts to meet yours as he says it. suddenly, you feel yourself edging out of the room while you try to hide your laugh.

although you hear three sets of footsteps quickly follow behind you.

⭒ DR RATIO

becoming a father was a role that seemed to come to ratio rather naturally. especially when you were pregnant, he had done some notable research into things that would make you feel better; to ease your illness, any aches or cravings. he’d looked into all of it and doted on your every beck and call despite how straightforward and blunt he came across to others.

although you did find it rather amusing, when you’d come home one day to find your ever loving husband; cross legged in your toddlers bedroom as he read her through a book regarding something that looks like physics or mathematics. the sight was only made even more charming given the way your daughter only seemed to be more preoccupied with putting the corners of the textbook into her mouth instead of actually listening.

but ratio was always a firm believer that intellect and creativity were not confined to geniuses- although he also believed that no child of his would ever fall victim to idiocy either, he’d make sure of it - although you’re sure he’d love them anyway.

“come now, we are not done here yet. class is still in session.” his voice sounds a few seconds later, a little bit louder but still the soft tone he took with your young daughter. despite his usual tone of voice with others, he never once raised his voice at either of you- even though his words are only met with giggles and gurgles from the baby opposite him as she opts to crawl her way closer.

“to learn this from youth is the most efficient method.” ratio states matter-of-factly as the toddler pulls her way into his lap, he helps her albeit slightly, until her tiny hands are able to reach out and touch the pages before her. “or do you have a superior strategy, pray tell?”

your daughter offers him another gurgle, followed by a blown raspberry and another giggle but your husband only seems to hum like he can understand her. you’re sure if you asked him he’d assure you he absolutely can anyway. “yes that seems logically sound.”

“although for now, we shall continue until otherwise proven that this is ineffective.” ratio brings a hand up to smooth it through his hair but the toddler in his lap is quite eager to follow the movement as she tries to pull herself onto her feet, giggling while wrapping herself around your husbands muscled bicep for stability. “the next.. god, the next one is—“ you watch fondly at the way the genius before you wrestles with her slightly, so concerned incase she falls while also opting to just let his daughter climb all over him as he sits with his textbook eagerly open.

but still despite her few words and drifting attention span, he still continues regardless as she gurgles back at him adorably. “now, now- settle down. don’t interrupt your father, even if you are quite cute, it won’t work on me.” ( it’s definitely working on him )

⭒ BLADE

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been atleast a little bit worried about how blade would react to finding out you were pregnant, you were well aware of not only his job but also the person he was. but at the same time, you also trusted him enough given how much love he was able to show you - albeit in his own way.

still, it was a pleasant surprise when your daughter had been born and your lover seemed to have taken his new found position quite well, albeit clumsily. it had taken a while for him to hold her, more out of fear of accidentally hurting or scaring her somehow - but as soon as you finally convinced him to and his touch was met with a very happy, albeit sleepy child; it seems his fear all but evaporated. you’d say he even looked soft in those special moments between father and baby.

blade was a protective father, that much was to be expected and you’re sure even the thought of your daughter dating was enough to send him on a blood-thirsty man hunt. but she was still young and for that he was thankful, her presence alone seems to have softened him up a lot more than you honestly would’ve expected.

but you can imagine even your surprise when you’d stumbled upon your own ( feared by many ) husband resting on the sofa next to your daughter while she clipped sparkly, pink hair clips into his hair. the pair are accompanied by silver wolf as she talks half-heartedly to blade about the upcoming mission. he’s listening, although he’s still quick to follow the child behind hims instructions when she tells him to move over or hold still.

he offers you a look as you approach the three, opting to ignore the giddy smile on your face as another bright pink bow is placed in his hair- although he still leaves a space beside him for you to slot into as always.

it only takes a few moments before your daughter finishes up and she giddily crawls into blade’s lap to snuggle into her fathers chest. your smiling brightly now, he can feel it to the side of him despite the way he deliberately makes no attempt to meet your gaze considering his new hairstyle. “daddy? do you like it?” his child asks eagerly and he grunts before turning his gaze to her.

“yes, it is quite frivolous.” she doesn’t quite understand the word, but she still assumes it means something good as she giggles from her place beneath him. opting to turn around to face away from him a few seconds later before looking back at him over her shoulder.

“kay, you do mine now, daddy!” she says excitedly and blade sends her his usual stoic, unreadable expression as he rests behind her.

“is it necessary?” he grumbles and you nudge at his shoulder with a tsk despite the way your daughter is still seemingly unbothered by his response. she only motions to the leftover ribbons and clips resting at his side before she turns around again, readying herself.

“mhm, then we can match!” you half expect him to say something else, but instead- blade actually opts to reach for one of the clips instead; a reaction that even earns silver wolfs raised brows as he twists the pink sparkly clip between his fingertips.

“hm, i understand. suit yourself.”

⭒ AVENTURINE

aventurine was an amazing father to both of your children, although that was something that you had no doubt about considering how much you knew he would treasure their childhood. they looked like both of you, although they had his eyes and you always found it to be quite magnificent whenever you’d see them blinking up at you, the gaze was quite beautiful and you cherished them immensely.

although given who their father is, it is safe to say that your children are infact spoiled, they’re only dressed in the best clothes ofcourse, have the best toys and accessories. it was one of the ways in which he showed his love for his family, to make sure that you all got whatever you wanted, while also teaching them that what they had should be cherished- so they grew up to be humble.

one thing you’d noticed is that aventurine never hid any parts of his life from them, albeit they were still too young to know the details so as far as they knew; their daddy was just really good at playing games and winning prizes.

he’d even insisted on teaching them how to play cards one night, although the deck of cards ended up falling victim to their artistic doodles a few hours later. but still, your husband couldn’t find it in himself to be mad, instead; the colourful, scribbled deck has become a lucky charm of sorts that he always carries around with him at work or during games.

although today, aventurine has attempted to take the kids to the casino with him, while its still light out to avoid the usual atmosphere that comes with the later night games.

“well this is quite interesting. have you made up your mind yet? turns don’t last forever, you know.” his captivating gaze glints from over his hand, eyeing his opponent intimidatingly as the atmosphere hangs heavy between them. he can pick up on his nervousness, he’s sure he doesn’t have a great card to play - it’s obvious in the sweat along his brow, the way his eyes are darting to each one he holds.

“although it would be quite a shame to lose all of those credits you’ve worked so hard for, wouldn’t it?” still, aventurine teases, his hand isn’t much good either; but aslong as he doesn’t let his opponent know that. this game is as good as his, a piece of cake really. “you should treasure them well, while you can atleast.”

he watches the way his opponents fingertips tremble as they reach for a random card and the gambler scoffs, “it’s all or nothing.” smirking,

“daddy, i like the black spade!” “my favourite is the red diamond, use that one.” the atmosphere in the game is cut suddenly when aventurine’s children suddenly pipe up from where they’re wrapping around his shoulders. although he almost goes pale as soon as they begin to point out his cards, discussing their favourites and what ones he should use like his opponent isn’t suddenly relaxing opposite him at the confession.

“ah, n-now, now. those are daddy’s secret weapons, you’re not supposed to let the man know we have those.” he grins kindheartedly despite the way his hand is suddenly gripping his chips beneath the table. he doesn’t have it in him to snap at them, but he’s pretty sure a little piece of his soul dies when his opponent chuckles. it was a friendly game afterall, just as well, hes been on a winning streak recently.

“but why not! is it bad?” his daughter asks, innocently and aventurine can’t help but soften when he turns to meet them. deciding to place down his cards on the table before he’s taking his hat off of his head and placing it onto his curious daughter’s instead as she blinks up at him. his shoulders relax with how fondly they gaze up at him.

“hah, no it’s… it’s nothing. how about we just go and get some ice cream instead? although.. this nice man was almost the one paying for it.”

[trashsimp]

The day Haruka figured out his romantic feelings for you was the same day he wanted to marry you

The poor ball of anxiety still didn’t know why out of charismatic fun-loving extroverts like Mikoto, a gentleman like Dr. Kirisaki, or even a cool protective guy like Fuuta, you settled for him

Sure he wasn’t the smartest. He knew he was dumb. He knew he was an idiot. Slow, useless, hopeless. But to you? He was the sweetest partner you could’ve been blessed with. He tries, and despite what he thought, he showed to be a fast learner that picked up on your favorite things quickly. He learned to cook your favorite meals, starting out with simple ones and slowly graduating to more romantic and complex dishes. Making you those matching heart necklaces that best friends wear, but replacing the engraving “bff” to “bf + gf” (a little tip Muu gave him when be went to her for advice). Not letting you lift a finger when you got back from work, struggling his way through the housework. It wasn’t until he was bothering you every 5 minutes to ask you if the cleaning was to your liking where you shut him up with kisses

He hugged you everyday and gave you a loving peck on the lips before you headed off to work, waiting for you to get back. It’s almost kinda creepy his eyes seem to have never left the door ever since you left. Spending his money on that bracelet and vanilla scented perfume you loved so much. He rubbed your back when you stressed, mastered the art of latte art whenever he made you coffee, even wrote love letters (thank you our dear love expert, Mahiru Shiina), despite some trouble with making his handwriting look nice

He was honestly perfect, and yet he still thought he was unworthy of you. It didn’t matter if you assured him that he was always worthy of you. Everyday, he’d prove that you wouldn’t regret choosing him

Fast forwarding to a future with all his love language skills aced, he couldn’t help but smile as he reminisced on how far he came. He…was proud of himself, seeing the food he prepared for you after you’ve gotten back from a long day of work. The gold band decorated his lanky finger, as the diamond studded ring glistened on yours when the dining room’s light kissed the translucent gem. He looked down, seeing the baby girl in his arms. He was never fond of children at first, at least that was until you managed to change his mind. He wasn’t afraid anymore. He had no reason to be. As long as he had you

Haruka still didn’t know why you chose him. But maybe he didn’t need to know

[trashsimp]

Hharuka sakurai x reader. cuddling prettt pelasse

Sakurai Haruka x Reader

Summary : the TV's on! And now you're cuddling with your favourite person.

Note : er..... Hey guys.. Sorry for being super late I ended up travelling outside the city then lost data for weeks^_^ I'm back now (hopefully) and writing down the requests in my inbox so yeah

──────────────────────────────

The noises in the tv were drowning out your thoughts as you pat Haruka's shoulder. The two of you were cuddling with each other while watching a new TV show you recommended.

You took a look at Haruka's face and he watched the show quietly, listening in on the characters talking to each other. You looked back to the tv and a blue bunny character appears on the screen.

You giggle to yourself and Haruka notices the sudden noise. "What's wrong?" He asked. You shook your head and told him there was nothing wrong, and that a character just reminded you of a certain person.

"Oh, is it the boy with red hair?" He points to the screen, referencing Fuuta. You let out a laugh on accident then immediately cover your mouth. ".. Did I say something wrong?.." He looks at you worried.

You pat his head and told him that wasn't the case, and it was actually because he made a great point. He didn't completely understand where you were coming from but smiled nonetheless.

After a few seconds of silence you opened up again and told him the rabbit with the blue palette reminded you of him. He looks at the screen again and takes a good look at the character. He didn't see the resemblance, but at the same time he does.

Maybe you meant by looks? But he's not exactly a rabbit?

"Do you mean that I look like it or?.." You shook your head and told him how you just 'get' that vibe. He was confused, but you were smiling as you said that, so he took it as a compliment.

He smiled joyfully to himself as he looks back at the screen, you looked at him while trying to contain your desire of squishing his cheeks and stretching them.

You both sit in silence as you watch the show continue to run.

──────────────────────────────

Note : AGGGGGHGHG?!! This is so short and looks so lazy I'm so sorry haruka fans💔

[trashsimp]

The Sano's Baby

"He's mine!" "He's not!" "Yes!" "No!" "Shinichiro!" "Shin-chin!"

you quickly make your way into the living room, the still cold pan and spatula in either hand when you find the three small siblings quarreling over who gets to hold 'mini shinichiro' first. you sigh, setting the utensils on the small coffee table before kneeling before the children.

"emma, mikey, izana." you acknowledge the three of them and they each give you a wide eyed guilty look.

"the baby-" "mini shinichiro." mikey interrupts you to clarify his name.

you can't help the smile that takes over your entire face, the sweetness of the given name all three polar opposite siblings agreed upon too pure not to.

"mini shinichiro is sleeping and needs to stay that way so that he can grow up to be strong and play with you." emma nods as if she knew this all along and gives both boys a glare.

"can i share my taiyaki with him when he wakes up?" mikey questions genuinely, the small bag containing the dessert surely squeezed within his hoodie's pocket.

"he doesn't have any teeth you idiot!" izana's yell is what does the job, the baby's yawn and small cry announce he's been woken up.

emma can't help the excited squeal she lets out before quickly covering her mouth with both hands and looking up at you innocently.

"i'm sorry." izana is harshly tugging on your sleeve and you turn to find his gentle eyes brimming with big fat tears. you gently wipe the spilling ones away and give his cheek a little kiss letting the vulnerable boy know you're far from angry.

"fine, lets go get mini shinichiro then." you say avoiding thinking about all the chores you could no longer do with the baby on your hip. making your way across the room the three kids follow after you in a line formation like little ducklings, they truly made you want to cry.

you reach into the basket, your little bundle of joy is struggling against the blanket as he tries to stretch his small body. when you pull him out the room is filled with 'ooh's and 'ah's, sticky hands tug on your shirt and jeans for you to lower him within their reach.

you squat and all three huddle around him, emma traces soft circles on the baby's cheek and when he laughs she looks like she'll burst with joy. mikey tries to be discreet but when he pokes the baby's cheek and the baby lets out a delighted sound he does a little excited jump, he felt like the coolest uncle ever. izana is surprisingly the softest, he combs the little black curls away before planting a kiss on the baby's forehead. the baby retaliates by grabbing a fistful of izana's hair and giggling sending all of the children into a fit of laughter.

shinichiro comes later that evening, he's exhausted from a grueling day at work but the sight of you is one for the books. he silently leans against the wooden door frame and sighs, you stand over the dishwasher, the baby is resting against your side and his three siblings are at your legs. emma hugs your thigh while mikey and izana lean over the sink as best as they can to rinse the soapy plates you hand them.

"so do you guys want another little sister?"

you fling the sponge at him with a scoff and all three of the children rush over to shinichiro chanting their excited replies.

[trashsimp]

Another Shin and Mikey doodle ;_;

[trashsimp]

[trashsimp]

THIS LOVE IS GOOD- H. KAZUTORA

✦ synopsis ↷ Yours and Kazutora’s love during the years

✦ pairing ↷ Hanemiya Kazutora x Baji’s step-sister!f!reader (everyone alive au!)

✦ cw ↷ teenagers smoking (they’re 18), lovesick tora, arson (it’s baji), mentions of kazu’s backstory, high school settings, time-line isn’t clear but there are a few time-skips, kazu has insecurieties, yn too, wedding, baji is the best big bro!!, kazu has two kids who are two copies of him! lazy-beta reading

✦ note ↷ happy b-day my bby tiger!!! i want to give you all the love of this world!!! a bit sappy for tora, i love him sm! hope you like it!!

kei and kotone

reblogs and comments are appreciated!!!

Kazutora wasn’t fond of his birthday, he doesn’t remember a happy birthday from his early childhood. However, everything changed when he met Baji and you, on the day of his 11th birthday. 

He can still remember Baji’s grin and yours after you three set a car on fire, enjoying the sight of the fire consuming the machine. 

Keep reading

[trashsimp]

a/n: 1.2k. post defection geto, manga spoilers, a little angst, reader also believes in geto’s flawed vision. inspired by above the chinese restaurant by laufey ♡

“(y/n)-san! (y/n)-san!” the girls’ shouts cut through you and suguru’s conversation, and your lover turns to them with an amused smile — about to speak up about something along the lines of interrupting the ‘grown ups when they’re talking’ — but mimiko and nanako doesn’t care one bit, not when they’re finding out about a new dessert place down the street.

life is simple; that is if you factor out the sorcerers at jujutsu high trying to weed you out and kill you, but among the squeezy apartment above the chinese restaurant and the delicious smell of dumplings, you think that life was well this way, even if it was inconvenient. you still remember the bags under suguru’s eyes, the hair that stuck out of all places, and the regret swirling in geto’s irises when he returned bloodied and frozen.

(“i killed them… my parents. i did i—” it doesn’t take long for geto to break down, because you know that he went through all of that, numb. you hold him all through the night that day.)

“(y/n)-san! did you hear what we said?” nanako tugged on your arm and snaps you out of the daze, showing geto’s phone that displayed the colourful crepe store, albeit upside down. giggling, you flipped it around for her and her twin, ruffling her hair.

“yes, i did, honey,” you’re pleasantly surprised when you glance back up at suguru to find him already smiling at the three of you, fond and satisfied. he looks at you like you’re his saviour. “when do you want us to take you?”

that godforsaken day, seeing two young girls caged like animals made geto snap, it made him question if he was actually protecting the right people. and that night as you hear him explain his vision in hushed tones and passionate words, you still his pacing with warm, hypnotising hands on his cheeks. you pull on his heartstrings with your loyalty and love and he promises that he’ll do everything he can for this little broken family.

and do everything he did.

from sourcing for apartments that were out of range of jujutsu high’s radar, to building twin beds for the girls, to debating desperately over what to name the two. seeing suguru in unexpected fatherhood made you smile to yourself all the time, you didn’t think you’d be this lucky to witness all of it. the chair scrapes across the floor before geto stands up, walking over to your side and feeling his arm snake around your waist along with a kiss to your cheek.

“why would you need a dessert when we have (y/n) right here?”

you roll your eyes and laugh as you push him away, opposed to the girls who just pull disgusted faces at your display of affection.

“geto-sama, we don’t love (y/n)-san the way you do,” nanako speaks up, grabbing your hand and pulling you from the chair so much that you’re forced to sit on the floor between the two girls. they’re getting stronger by the day. “we love (y/n)-san like a parent, right, mimiko?”

mimiko was more reserved than her sister, but she gives her verdict anyway, nodding to her sister’s prompt as she curled into your side silently with a small smile. “yeah.”

the failures of jujutsu high — they would often call you, but you hardly felt like one when you hear the laughter of your boyfriend with the girls. you’d even call it content when you hear them playing tag in the living room or feeding each other noodles at the dining-table-slash-kitchen. the proximity felt loving, the thought of giving them a second chance felt right.

because at least if you had your youth taken from you, it was fair that you made sure that no one took away theirs.

“do you think hell is waiting for us?” you mumble to the other that night after putting the girls to sleep, swallowing nervously at the challenges that would arise before the four of you. it seems like geto understands your anxiety, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. even without looking, it feels like the sky is your shared space of vulnerability and camaraderie.

beside you, suguru takes a deep breath before turning to you and placing his forehead on yours. the moment is tender and soft, and below, you can hear the chinese restaurant winding down and closing shop. it’s the end of the day, supposedly calm and still, but your eyes are blurred from the vision of the girls covered in blood, from the vision of the strangely vivid image of geto clutching his side that’s stained his hands red.

“hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” you sniffle, blinking away the tears before your eyes finally lock onto him. they’re downturned and hold the glow of the moon, and you think you can see how his eyes (and him) resemble the floating rock: often wrongly overlooked but striking. you remember how the girls like to pull you along while suguru rests at the back like a tired dad, how they wake you up in the morning and go to sleep in his arms.

they find fun in you and solace in geto.

“nothing— j-just,” you sigh, “i don’t know. i’m just scared.”

geto frowns, hands from your face dipping towards your waist, “will it do you any better if you sit in my lap? hm?”

he’s skillful at using his words, but today he’s a little quieter, settling rather for the feather-like touches of his arms around your middle and the similar kisses upon your jaw. his mouth maps out your skin, a memorisation of something that he can do with his eyes closed, and his embrace tightens when he feels you stifling a smile.

“that’s that smile that i love,” suguru mumbles, finishing his journey and coming to face you again. “i’m scared, too. nothing worries me more than losing the three of you, especially when we’ve only begun this small family.” the word makes you smile, no matter how fucked up it was, but if geto was determined to give you the world, so would you. 

“we’re awfully young for a proposal, but i accept it,” you laugh, pecking his forehead. he savours it, eyes closing and breath halted, and when they open again, you think suguru at the end of the day is the most beautiful — it was what he was the epitome of. the opposite of calamity and the jujutsu world, tranquil and undisturbed like the soothing tides of the night’s oceans.

“i love you.” suguru doesn’t think love is a curse at that very moment despite what his classes before at jujutsu high have taught him. your lips are an inch from his, already sensing his contagious smile before he mutters the confession again. it sounds like something forbidden, but it isn’t. “i love you.”

it is geto suguru’s curse to bear even if he falls and indulges and loves too hard, but it’s a curse he will never forget the taste of even if he lives a million lives and dies a million deaths — it will always lead back to you.

geto is a mass murderer and id still defend my little babygirl. anyway this fuckin hurt to write i wanna give him a hug so bad

[trashsimp]

imagine having to wake up mikey in the mornings but he just. pulls you back into bed instead </3

༊*·˚ 6:15 AM. with manjiro sano.

⠀ — where all he wants is just 5 more minutes.

∴ anything 4 tumblr user guav ♡ (toman!mikey)

the feeling of your duvet hugging your body, keeping you safe from the cool morning air before it became the sun's time to rise and warm the streets was a feeling you could indulge in for ages. the sweet serenity from the mix of temperatures, the soft sheets against your bare legs, your pillow that always seemed to be that much more fluffy in the early hours of dawn. 

it was always more enjoyable with a head of tousled blonde hair plopped on your chest, clutching you just as tight as the tattered blue blanket in his hand.

he made the warmth trapped under the blankets just that much more enticing, how you wished you could share his body heat in your own little world with him forever, curtains closed, thoughts turned off, the rest of the world locked outside of your little bubble.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEE–

the alarm blaring from your phone was a cold, cold reminder that you couldn’t. for you had responsibilities, and places to be. it was truly despicable. 6:15 am, you cursed both the education system for making you rise before even the sun had, and your boyfriend, who could sleep through a small hurricane still peacefully snoozing on top of you. you drummed lightly on his back, making your way up his shoulders and slowly ruffling his hair, placing a kiss to the mess of platinum.

“mikey.” your voice was soft, hushed, you hoped to wake him up peacefully, unlike yourself. you were a fool for thinking that it would work.

“miiikey.” your voice was louder the second time, as well as a little closer to his ear. he stirred, but only for a moment before going back to his quiet snoring. you began to pepper tired kisses all across his face, puffy from sleep, lightly pinching at one of his cheeks alongside them. finally, there was some sign of life from him, as he groaned and hid his face somewhere in your pyjama top.  his response to your quiet: “good mooorning.” was mumbling some incoherent whining into the fabric.

it pained you, it truly did, but you managed to slide yourself out from under him, and swung your feet over the side of your bed. if you didn’t get out of bed soon, you weren’t sure you ever would, and you weren’t prepared for the earful you’d receive from draken if you and mikey didn’t show up to class.

a hand grabbing one of the wrists you used to prop yourself up stopped you from going any further than you had gotten.

“eh?” you turned to see mikey, eyes still closed, reaching across your mattress to hold onto you. your heart warmed at the sight of him, just as sleepy and clingy as ever.

“n’yet…..cm’back…” he mumbled tiredly, pout evident in his voice both from the loss of his favourite pillow and the result of his cheek now being squished against the sheets.

“we’ll be late.” you leaned on your side, face just inches from his own while you pecked the tip of his nose. before you even had the chance to sit back up, mikey pulled you down into the plush comfort of your blankets, and his head took its rightful position on your stomach. your hand gravitated to his hair the same as before, and your fingers brushed out a few knots with a feather-like delicacy as you rolled your eyes, contrasting the endearing smile plastered on your face.

“mikey–”

“ssshhhhh…”

and just like that, the snores resumed, and manjiro savoured the feeling of tranquillity he was always met with upon being so snug against you.

you supposed just 5 more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

ˎˊ˗ masterlist.

ˎˊ˗ send me an ask !

[trashsimp]

Power grabbed your ankle as you tried to squirm away. You laughed but it turned into a little scream as she yanked you closer to her on the couch, her real strength flashing before you in that moment.

She wanted you to stay still as she attempted to paint your toe nails (Her idea; she’d never painted nails before and wanted to “test” it out on someone first)

“Stop moving human! You’re ruining my hard work!” She exclaimed. In reality though, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were staying still or not. Her ability to keep her hand steady as she dragged the brush across your nail was…not that great, and you could feel the cold wetness of the polish hitting your cuticles. It didn’t help that it was ticklish, making you inadvertently jump.

“Okay I’m sorry, but I can feel you painting my skin instead of my nail” you lamented.

“I am NOT”

“I can see it, Power. You’re painting my foot.”

“It will be cute, be quiet!”

Laying back into the couch, your foot in a vice grip, you sighed with defeat. She side eyed you and patted your other foot that lay across her lap.

The front door clicked, squeaking slightly as Aki stepped in. He looked over at the two of you suspiciously, assessing the situation. You leaned your head back to catch his gaze, mouthing “help me”.

He shut the door slowly. “What is happening right now” he asked, sounding a bit afraid.

“We’re having beauty-salon-self-care ladies day” Power retorted. Like she even knew what any of that meant.

He looked you both up and down. Aki’s mouth frowned a bit and said “Do not get any of that on my couch.”

“We won’t top-knot” she spat.

Aki walked into the living room, dropping his keys on the small table in front of you both. He leaned over to observe Powers work, but she hovered over your feet, yelling for him to get back.

“She’s not done Aki, you must wait to see her masterful work” you chuckled.

He crinkled his nose; “uhhh, it looks promising.”

Power swatted at him. “Get back!”

With your free foot, you playfully nudged Aki’s thigh as he walked away. He glanced at you over his shoulder, a slight smirk and a glint in his eyes.

“You’re next.” you warned him.

[trashsimp]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED KAZU💖 HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN JAIL BABE

(art not mine, i got lazy to draw today because i finished all my assignments and quiz and its 3:07am💀👍)