#it’s actually green tea lol

[crookedghosts]

me: tagging medical inaccuracies every time I represent adhd NOT bc it's inaccurate or particularly bad rep but bc I have certain delusions that my adhd is not actually that self destructive and that my hyperfocused/hyperfixated, no-more-physical-needs-just-brain-going-brrrr state is like a superpower. like simply I could figure out anything interesting enough if also given enough time. I know in my brain that it is a disability that does actually disable me often but I also prefer to act like I experience it as only my superpower

[eileennatural]

the haters don't want you to know this but it is so important that you have a mug of hot tea on cold afternoons

[brunetterightsactivist]

gonna try and get into teas if you ever saw me say i hate tea mind ur buisness in 2024 i am a woman who loves a cup of tea

[nereidprinc3ss]

candied pecans

in which uni!reader has to wake up early for a final, and spencer reid is determined to let you get as much rest as possible

fluff (18+ for mildly suggestive remarks) wc <800 warnings/tags: Spencer being a sweetheart, basically sex jokes, he makes you breakfast, gnreader a/n: I MISSED THEM BADDDD!!! this is v v short and based on a dream I had where he brought me breakfast so I could sleep in and I asked him to stay in bed while I was gone LOL

Your alarm goes off and your brow furrows like even in sleep, you’d been bracing for it. Every dream had been sterile—and worse—or potentially better—you’d dreamed about your study material.

Quickly as it started, the robotic blaring ceases. You almost slip back into sleep, but fight tooth and nail for consciousness, propping up on an elbow and rubbing your eyes in the dark grey of the early morning. Already there’s a warm hand on your chest, exerting what is more a suggestion of pressure rather than any actual force. Spencer’s voice is grainy. 

“Hey. Go back to sleep.”

“I have a final,” you slur. 

“In two hours. You can get at least another half hour of sleep.”

“But then I can’t—”

“I know, you can’t use that time to scroll on your phone. I’m terrible for even suggesting it. You were up late, honey. Come back and sleep longer and you’ll do better on your final.”

You’re already falling down. The bed is so warm, and your lids are so heavy. 

“Okay,” you mumble, eyes shut before you even hit the pillow. 

You wake up to fingers in your hair. He’s always so unbelievably gentle with you. Just as effective as an alarm clock—far more pleasant. 

“Good morning,” he says, and there’s no sleep in his voice like there was the last time you woke up. You curl into him where he sits on the side of the mattress and he cups your cheek with a warm hand. 

“Time?”

“Don’t get mad at me.”

That really wakes you up.  

“What did you do?”

“I let you sleep for a half hour!” he defends. Your brow furrows and you rub an eye, squinting up at him. That sheepish look on his face is concerning. “… Twice.”

“It��s seven?” You half yell, rocketing upward. He laughs and catches you against his chest. In your half-awake state, you can’t defend yourself, so you end up with your head cradled to his chest. But you’re not as happy about it as you’d normally be. 

“All I did was cut into your phone time, which we came to a consensus on, and your breakfast time. So I made you breakfast.”

You turn your head so you can look up at him from against his chest. 

“… Oh. You did?”

“Yes,” he says simply, picking up the plate you’d missed on the bedside table and presenting it to you. 

Two pieces of toast, each with butter and a different kind of jam because he knows you can never pick. Apple slices. Eggs, exactly the way you like them. Candied pecans, which are supposed to be for salads, and which you sneak handfuls of anyway. 

“Oh,” you murmur again. 

“There’s green tea in the mug, too. Caffeinated, obviously.”

You sit up straighter and take the plate into your lap over the blanket, nibbling on a slice of toast before kissing him. 

“Thank you,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder and studying the frosty day beyond the window, deciding how to dress for the weather as you chew. 

He slips his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your back. 

“Of course. I was actually excited to make you breakfast. How often is it that you’re running out the door and I don’t have anywhere to be?”

“How often is it that you get so badly injured Hotch makes you stay home?”

Too often, is the punchline. 

“He’s being anal,” Spencer scoffs, mood suddenly a wink soured. “A sprained ankle is hardly an injury.”

“Mm,” you hum around another bite of toast. “I’d say a fractured bone is pretty injurious.”

“He’s on your payroll, and you want me home. It’s a plot.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t pay him. He’s just scared of me.”

“It is pretty suspicious I got the week off just as we’re heading into your winter break.”

“Mhm. I’m gonna keep you here,” you say earnestly, snapping off half an apple slice with your teeth and offering the rest to him. “And make you watch movies and have sex all week.”

He crunches on the fruit and laughs. 

“Ambitious. I’m pretty sure it’s more likely that we watch movies and sleep all week.”

You look up at him with big eyes. 

“That’s still fun.”

“Oh, that’s exactly my idea of fun,” he says, and while those who don’t know Spencer quite as well as you do would perhaps mistake it for sarcasm, you know better. You settle back on his shoulder. 

“I think you should stay in bed, ’cause I’ll be home by 10:00. And then I’ll get here and you’ll already be all warm and cozy so we can cuddle all day.”

“Or we could have sex,” he says hopefully. 

You throw a pecan at him. 

[pomefioredove]

if its ok can i request a overblot boys and ruggie and kamil with a reader that just forgets to eat? like they can go the whole day without eating then suddenly they just get dizzy cause they haven't eaten and when they get asked why they passed out/not ate they're like "lol yeah i forgot to eat my bad gang🧍🏻" they're just so nonchalant and act like its whatever😭its ok if not if this makes you uncomfortable!! Love your blog pookie and make sure YOU eat properly💥💥

ahh... just like me fr. this ask actually reminded me to eat, thank you!

summary: reader who forgets to eat type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle is also guilty of this

it's not that he's neglectful, it's just that...

...well... he's a little neglectful

it's usually Trey who has to remind him to take breaks from studying

none of that will stop him from scolding you, though

"What were you thinking, going a whole day without a meal? It's no wonder you're always so tired!"

expect lots of snacks from him after he's done berating you

he sends someone every day to make sure you've had something

(both a blessing and a curse)

you'll be in your room then suddenly Che'nya is there asking if you had lunch yet

and if not, you'll be recieving an invitation to Heartslabyul for tea

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona can't be bothered to ask why you're always so... out of it

he just assumes that's your personality

he even teases you for it, once or twice

then Jack offhandedly mentions that you rarely eat until dinner, and he gets all... worried

Ugh

suddenly, his room is always stocked with your favorite snacks from Sam's

what? no, they're not for you. he's just taken a liking to 'em. but you're welcome to have some if you'd like

his act is unconvincing

"What? Stop looking at me like that. I'm not some sap. I'm just making sure you don't go passing out on me,"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie is worried that Crowley's cut your food rations

he'd been mooching off of you for a few months now, after all

plus, he knows what it's like to go hungry

of course, he doesn't outright ask. he doesn't want to embarrass you or anything

he just... casually offers to split meals and comes over once a week with half of his forage greens

"What, this? Nah, I just had extra. What, you're complaining about free food? Shishishi,"

you repay the gesture by making him a few meals, and it becomes a little tradition between the two of you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

why, oh why, does Azul have to care about you so much?

he's become familiar that exact look on your face; distant, dizzy, disoriented...

and he's caught himself mid-scold far too many times

"Have you no sense of self-preservation? You can't keep relying on others to care for you; you'll only be taken advantage of,"

...and, of course, he's the poor soul who cares for you

he convinces himself that verbal reminders cost nothing

then he starts sending the tweels to make sure you've eaten

and then he insists you drop by the Mostro Lounge at least once a day

it's not that he's giving you his time and energy for free

he's just making an investment in you!

that's it. NOTHING ELSE! (<- lies)

(cue tweels giggling in the background)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Jamil

first Kalim, and now he has you to worry about, too?

of course; he has no obligation to help. that's what he tells himself

nothing will happen if he just ignores you

...except that sinking feeling in his stomach

Sevens, help him...

he starts letting you help around the kitchen

just... tidying up, doing the dishes, etc

and if you happen to want a bite of what he's cooking? ohoho, who is he to deny you the chance to test for poison?

(feigns to mention that these dishes have already been tasted)

"Good? Why, I'm flattered. You're welcome to help any time- how about tomorrow?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim will never pass a chance to host

you offhandedly mention that you forget to eat sometimes? just come over for breakfast!

and lunch

and dinner!

and you'll stay for dessert, too, won't you?

he's nothing if not gracious, and he has a penchant for taking care of others

he likes feeling useful, after all

just be ready to give him your full thoughts and feelings on every dish; he's already making a mental list of your favorites to serve every time you come over

"Hungry? No problem! We have all your faves waiting for you. What music do you want to listen to while we eat?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you know that Vil loves you, right?

so, so much?

good. because that love makes him want to shake you

of all the stupid things...

it's no use trying to hide it from him; you could look and act completely normal and he'd still see right through you

he can just tell

he has to restrain himself from threatening Crowley into letting you stay at Pomefiore so he can care for you

Vil believes you're capable, after all. you just need a little push

"I've set a daily reminder and stocked your kitchen. Remember that some food is better than none. If you need me for anything, I'll see to it as soon as possible,"

you can expect Epel and Rook to ask if you've eaten, on his behalf, every time you run into each other

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia sets like, 30 reminders in your phone

he knows as well as you do that three measly alarms won't be enough

...he, too, is guilty of forgetting to eat

he probably makes you a custom alarm sound and everything

a little pavlovian conditioning never hurt anyone, right? it's basically no different than training an AI

...or something like that

will send Ortho over to check your vitals every once in a while

"it's NBD. can't have u losing all your lives on me. who would tolerate me then?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

thank your lucky stars it's Malleus who notices your drowsiness first and not Lilia

Malleus, at least, will find you something edible to eat

he's trying to keep you alive, after all

he's very sweet and gentle about it

soft little reminders, nudges to keep you awake... he will up and leave a dorm meeting if he realizes he doesn't know if you'd had anything yet today

Malleus is very conscious about human mortality, and is very... delicate about it

he's just a little overprotective, that's all

it mostly comes to sharing little treats together every now and then. it feels less awkward when you're together, after all

"There is no need to thank me. I'm simply happy to spend my time with you,"

[aventurineswife]

Requesting Reader pampering Dan Heng (especially in his Imbibitor Lunae form). 🙏 Washing and brushing his hair, drawing a bath for him after the shower, helping Pom-Pom cook healthy meals for him, leaving snacks and drinks for him at the door outside of the archives (and telling March to ask first before taking any bc March’s room is right next to the archives lol), reminding him once in a while to drink water and stretch, massaging his back and neck, making sure the temperature in the archives isn’t too warm or cold—

I just really need Dan Heng to be pampered, he deserves it.

As the Lotus Floats, So Shall You

Summary: You quietly care for Dan Heng, particularly in his Imbibitor Lunae form. You take the time to pamper him, washing and brushing his long hair, preparing his bath, cooking healthy meals, and offering gentle reminders to care for himself. Despite his reserved nature and the weight of his past, Dan Heng allows himself to be cared for, slowly finding comfort in your presence and your attentive gestures.

Tags: Dan Heng IL x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Soft Caretaking, Slow Burn, Quiet Devotion, Light Domestic.

Dan Heng was always difficult to care for—not because he rejected kindness, but because he often didn’t know how to receive it. In his Imbibitor Lunae form, the weight of past lives pressed heavier on his shoulders, making him even more withdrawn, more hesitant to accept the warmth you so willingly offered. But that never stopped you from trying.

It started small. A cup of tea left outside the archives, a careful arrangement of his favorite snacks placed neatly beside it. You made sure to leave a note—March, please ask before taking. Because while you adored her, you also knew her appetite for anything remotely edible was insatiable. Dan Heng never said anything about the offerings, but you noticed how they always disappeared by morning, the cup emptied, the snacks gone.

Then came the gentle reminders. Drink water. Stretch your legs. The stars will still be there if you take a break. Sometimes, you caught him actually following your advice, rolling his shoulders with a sigh as he took slow sips of water. Other times, he merely glanced at you with that unreadable expression of his—fond, if you dared to hope—before returning to his studies.

But tonight, you were taking things a step further.

Dan Heng sat at the edge of his bed, his long still damp from his shower. His horns glowed faintly in the dim light of the archives, curling elegantly above his head. He looked ethereal, otherworldly, but also exhausted.

“You don’t have to fuss over me,” he murmured, even as you settled behind him, fingers threading through his hair with practiced ease.

“I know,” you said simply, reaching for the brush. “But I want to.”

He let out a quiet sigh but didn’t protest further, leaning slightly into your touch as you worked through the tangles. His hair was silk beneath your fingertips, heavy with the scent of lotus and green tea—something you had picked for him, knowing how much he preferred subtle, soothing fragrances.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence. You brushed with slow, deliberate strokes, making sure to be gentle around his horns. Dan Heng’s shoulders gradually relaxed, tension melting away as you worked.

“You’re warm,” he admitted after a while, voice quiet, almost drowsy.

You smiled. “Is the temperature in here okay? I can adjust it if it’s too cold.”

“It’s fine.” A pause. “You always make sure of that.”

The admission sent warmth curling in your chest, but you didn’t dwell on it. Instead, you set the brush aside, fingers moving to massage the knots in his neck. He tensed briefly at the first touch, then sighed, his head tilting slightly as he allowed himself to relax under your care.

“Turn around,” you coaxed gently.

Dan Heng hesitated but obeyed, shifting so that he faced you, his eyes half-lidded with weariness. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze held something soft, something vulnerable that he rarely let show.

You reached for a towel, carefully dabbing at the ends of his hair before moving to his horns, wiping away any lingering moisture with delicate precision. Your fingers brushed against the smooth, translucent surface, and Dan Heng exhaled sharply, eyes flickering shut for a brief moment.

“Sensitive?” you asked.

“A little.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You softened your touch, mindful of the sensation. When you finished, you stood, moving toward the small bath you had prepared for him earlier. The water was just the right temperature, infused with calming herbs meant to ease fatigue.

“Come on,” you said, offering him your hand. “It’s ready.”

Dan Heng eyed you for a long moment before exhaling softly. He took your hand, fingers cool against your palm, and allowed you to guide him toward the bath. He didn’t say thank you, but he didn’t have to. The way he looked at you—the way he let himself be cared for—was more than enough.

And when you left a final note by the archives later that night, reminding him to rest well, you knew he would see it. Just as you knew, without a doubt, that he would take it to heart.

[goooofy-goooober1121]

Twst Ethnicity/Nationality Headcanons (bc I can)

Also my asks are open so please send some in!!!!

Read my most recent work here!

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

British (I hc the Kingdom of Roses as the sort of UK version of TWST)

is this even a question

Standard British Accent for sure

"Unbuhrthday pahty"

he's a crumpet eater what can i say

Trey Clover

Vietnamese idc

that is an east asian man like idk he just has the vibes

but if he were to have like an accent I'm thinking a Yorkshire-y accent

Cater Diamond

he's a ginger so he's Irish /j

Also a British white boy

But not like Standard British accent

MLE London accent!!!!

Deuce Spade

hmm I'm having trouble with him ngl

Kinda leaning towards Argentinian for him

Latino king !!

Yeah now that i think about it Argentinian Deuce is real

But he's also from the Queendom of Roses so I think he's got a Cockney accent lol

Ace Trappola

Ginger so he's Irish /hj

Maybe not about the ginger part but like idk he's giving Irish

Specifically South Dublin

I'm thinking Korean-Irish I don't make the rules

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Kenyan

Have you seen that one event card? I did a lil research and apparently it was based majorly on Kenyan clothing

So yeah that mf is Kenyan I don't make the rules

Ruggie Bucchi

BRAZILIAN.

sorry idc he's Brazilian

LATINO KING #2

See the thing about Brazil is that it's extremely diverse so like genetically he could be anything

But I'm thinking Indigenous/Lebanese/African mix mostly! (Brazil has an INSANE amount of Lebanese people bro)

If I had to name a specific state it would either be São Paulo (going back on the Lebanese thing, São Paulo has the largest Lebanese population out of all Brazilian states) or Minas Gerais

Jack Howl

Grrr this is hard because he isn't like based off an actual character yk so I don't have a point of reference

But then again I pulled Brazilian Ruggie out my ass (and also because I'm Brazilian and am biased)

He's from the Shaftlands, so I'm getting Hungarian vibes from him

Also works because grey wolves are found in mainly Central European areas

fuck it he's ethnically Brazilian too, Bahia

Brazilian mom and Hungarian dad

Mixed Indigenous/African/Hungarian (in that order)

They're all Latino. Every one of them.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

"Azul" means blue in Spanish and Portuguese

I'm thinking he's Spanish and Italian

Ethpañol

(sorry i had to bring up the 'say 'th' instead of 's' dialect pattern in Spain Spanish)

Jade Leech

'Jade' as a word has its origins in Spanish

Moray eels are most commonly found in tropical, warm waters and coral reefs

"The green moray is found in the western Atlantic Ocean, from New Jersey to Bermuda, and the northern Gulf of Mexico southward to Brazil" - Google

BRAZIL MENTIONED

Yeah he's Puerto Rican/Brazilian

LMFAO what if i make the Leech twins Floridians

OK OK he's Puerto Rican/Brazilian but him and Floyd are Florida residents

Floyd Leech

As mentioned before he's also Puerto Rican/Brazilian

90% of all Florida Man headlines are because of him

Bilingual and randomly breaks into Portuñol to fuck with Azul

"Me gusta comer pedras e tambem tenho vontade de morder a la gente, mano"

Puerto Rican mom and Brazilian dad

Glares at Azul whenever he hears "Ethpaña" instead of "España"

'speaks Spanish with a th' Azul vs. 'no S at the end of words' Floyd

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

Okay so I'm referencing the Qasr Sultan card to build my hc

I'm mainly looking at his turban, lots of anthropologists think those originated in Ancient Persia (modern-day Iran) but of course cultural dispersion is a thing and they are also commonly found in Indian records of rulers

But the word 'Sultan' is Arabic, not Persian

There's a description about the Scalding Sands that says "tea is considered a customary with every meal"

Considering this tradition and the clothing items, I'm led to believe he is Arab-- but that's a pretty big generalization considering "Arab" is a broad term for people living in a specific part of the Middle East

Therefore he's Omani i think!

The climate matches the description of the Scalding Sands (dry and arid, subtropical); tea is also their national beverage and from my understanding is widely served with meals

Jamil Viper

Pakistani/Bangladesh/Omani mix

Nationality is Omani (would have been born there if we follow the canon)

Oman has a majority Arab population but it also has a large South Asian population

Idk how to describe it he just has Pakistan/Bangladesh vibes

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

Take one look at that last name and tell me he isn't German

Definitely also speaks French

Maybe he's German/French, German dad and French mom

The first film screening, fun fact, was in Berlin in 1894, but the first commercial public screening was in Paris 1895!

Kinda fits with his movie star status

Slays the house boots down

Rook Hunt

South African and French

I can't with his fuckass bob I'm sorry

Ethnically cooked by his barber

Generationally chopped

Lord Farquad ass

Dora the explorer ass

Edna mode ass

PLEASE let him grow out his hair again IM BEGGING YOU

Cute freckles tho :3

Epel Felmier

My boy Apple Farmer is Finnish

Harveston is apparently based on Finnish architecture so like

I'm thinking there's some German in there too, because "Felmier" is the German word for farmer

CORRECTION from someone who reblogged (ty pookie for letting me know) Felmier probably comes from the German surname Feldmier which is the job title (and a German surname) for someone who manages open fields for nobility (the actual word for farmer in German is Bauer)

Thank you reblogger I repent for my mistake

so manly

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

Greek are we even debating this?

The guy based on the Greek god Hades? Hmm he's gotta be from Russia

No bro

Greek man from Macedonia

The irl Mount Olympus is located on the border between Macedonia and Thessaly so I figured if he's gonna be based an Olympian it would be only fair to place him around that area

Ortho Shroud

Macedonian like Idia!

Silly little guy

He's my baby

Little Greek dude

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

Hmm okay so I'm thinking Chinese/French

Sleeping Beauty is set in France and Briar Valley does seem to have European architecture

old French architecture also does incorporate lots of gargoyles, and we all know he's a gargoyle fiend

And there are some vignette lines that hint at Chinese influences/heritage such as in his Halloween card

I think ethnically/racially Chinese but nationality-wise he's French

Lillia Vanrouge

The "van-" prefix in surnames can be traced back to the Netherlands

Like Vincent Van Gogh

Lilia as a name has Spanish origins

I think he's Dutch/Spanish mix

He also gives me Japanese vibes so let's also add that

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek as a name is a version of Sobek, an Egyptian crocodile deity

Since his mom is a fae from Briar Valley, I'm thinking 50% Egyptian (mom) and 50% French (dad)

but 100% unable to stfu why is he always yelling bro

I love him tho

Silver Vanrouge

Swedish

Don't ask me why

I just look at him and see Swedish

One more white boy to add to my collection

----

A/N: I'm so tired bro it's midnight and I'm out here making fictional men Latino and/or French

[myfictionaldreams]

Hi!! I absolutely love your work and you’re probably one of my favourite writers on here!! I was hoping you could write another Bucky x Wanda x Reader fic where reader is super shy and loves to read and watch the same shows over and over again and someone in the tower (like a new recruit for the avengers or something) starts to make fun of her for it?? And when Bucky and Wanda find out it’s all hell on earth for that person lol! Would also love to see the rest of the avengers be super protective over reader!!

⁀➷ Softness in Comfort // Wanda/Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: You're the soft one in the Tower, shy, quiet, always curled up with a book or comfort show. Most of the Avengers adore that about you. But when a new recruit starts making fun of you, it doesn't go unnoticed.

Requested by: Thank you, my love, for the request! Actually loved how this turned out (especially the rest of the Avengers going into protective mode!)

Tags: 18+ readers only, light smut, angst, protective!avengers, bullying, threats, possessiveness, fingering

Words: 2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The Avengers Tower is quiet for once, even on a Saturday morning. Warm golden sunlight pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room, giving the room the comforting glow of a new day.

You’re tucked into your usual corner of the couch, fluffy green blanket wrapped around your legs, a half-finished paperback resting on your lap, and the comforting sounds of your favourite TV show from the TV. 

It’s your third rewatch of the year, knowing every line, every quip, every catchy background song. You flip a page and feel a weight settled beside you on the couch.

You don't even have to look up, already knowing the shape of that presence, warm solid, a little grumpy in the mornings. Bucky. With his vibranium arm flush against your side, as he leans over and presses a firm kiss to the top of your head.

“Still watching this, huh?” he says quietly, his cool fingers resting over your lap.

You nod, cheeks heating as you hide your face behind your book. “It’s comforting.”

“Well, I think it’s adorable,” he comments, squeezing your thigh reassuringly, “you’re cute when you’re all embarrassed like this.”

Before you can respond, another body slips behind you on the couch, this one softer in presence. Wanda curls herself against your back, her fingers instinctively stroking down your arms.

“She’s been watching this episode for three days,” she says fondly. “You rewound it yesterday just to watch the snow scene again.”

You bury your face in your book again. “It’s a good scene.”

They both laugh, and it feels good and safe at least until the elevator dings.

Your body tenses before the doors even open; you already know who it is. Sure enough, it's the new recruit, Logan. He’s been around for a couple of weeks now, a young, overly confident individual constantly trying to prove he belongs, yet judging others to “better them.” Which seems to involve taking shots at anyone he deems soft, which is apparently you. 

You see the way his eyes flick to the TV and then to the book in your lap; his smirk sharpens. Before he can say a word, you snap the book shut and grab the remote, fumbling to turn off the TV.

Bucky and Wanda both stiffen at your side.

“... Hey,” Bucky says gently, brow furrowed.

“I was done anyway,” you lie, forcing a smile. "Just going to get some tea.” You're up before either of them can stop you, hurrying out of the room, pulse fluttering in your throat.

~~~~~

You’re in the library that Tony had added to the tower soon after you’d moved in. It’s your happy place, hiding in a nook with pillows, first edition books and soft lighting.

You’re halfway through rereading a comforting paragraph when the voice cuts through the silence.

“Figured I’d find you here.”

You look up to find Logan, still in his stupid training gear. You don’t say anything; just leave your bookmark in place as he steps close.

“I don’t get it,” he says, like he's confused but deeply amused. “You live in a literal Avengers tower. You’re dating the Scarlet Witch and the Winter Soldier. But you act like some child who wandered in and never left.

You pause, hugging the book to your chest. “Excuse me?”

“C’mon,” he laughs. “Books? Reruns? Acting all embarrassed every time someone talks to you? I don't even know what you do here. Wanda could snap someone in half, and Bucky’s basically a living weapon, but you? You’re just so soft.” 

You swallow audibly. “That’s not really your business.”

He steps closer again, and that's when you see it over his shoulder.

Tony Stark is leaning casually against the doorframe, sipping from his coffee cup with a smirk on his face and his phone held up. You could see he was on the phone with someone, but from a distance, you couldn’t see who. 

Longan doesn’t notice. “Honestly, it’s just weird, y’know? I'm surprised they haven’t gotten bored-”

“Hey, junior,” Tony cuts in, voice firm and authoritative. “That’s enough.”

Logan stiffens, turning and blinking at the billionaire. “I was just-”

“I heard you. We all did.” he held up the phone, stepping closer. “Let me be very clear. You don't talk to her like that. In fact, you don't look at her like that again. You're lucky I got here first. Can’t say the luck will last much longer though.” 

“... First?” Logan repeats weakly. 

The lights flicker as the temperature in the room drops.

And then Wanda walks in. Not stomping, not screaming, no, she slides. Red magic licking at her fingertips, her eyes glowed faintly, her wrath building with each second.

Right behind her, Bucky. Jaw clenched, eyes unforgiving as he swings his metal arm, vibrating with rage.

“This him?” Bucky growls.

Tony jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Cornered your girl, ran his mouth, please don’t stain my carpets.”

Wanda’s already moving. Her powers curl around Logan’s ankles, dragging him back a step. “You think softness is weakness? I heard you on the phone. You think her kindness means she's any lesser than us?”

Bucky stalks forward, voice cold as winter. “She’s more powerful than any of us, and she doesn’t need to lift a finger to prove it.”

“She’s the best part of this place, of this team,” Wanda snaps, her magic curling his throat, tightening until he squirms but not enough to kill.

“Better than you’ll ever be. Now, you say another fucking word about her, and I’ll knock your teeth out,” Bucky finishes. 

Logan tries to speak, but Tony holds up a hand. “You’re done here. I’ll be having words with Fury. Pack your shit.”

Logan doesn’t have to walk as Wanda wiggles her fingers, sending him spinning out of the room with a soft thud.

You’re frozen, trembling from the interaction, but in awe that they’d come and protect you so fiercely.

Wanda turns to you, her features melting with concern. “Are you okay, draga?”

You nod, walking to her side. But Bucky stops you by pulling you into his arms, strong and steady, and Wanda’s hands cup your face, and your throat tightens. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Bucky asks, kissing your temple.

“I didn’t want to cause drama,” you explain, leaning into both of their touches.

Wanda’s fingers tighten so that you're forced to look at her. “You're worth the drama. Always.”

Tony coughs. “Okay, well, this is disgustingly sweet. I'm gonna file a report or something before I cry.”

From down the hallway, you hear a commotion as backup arrives in the shape of the other Avengers. You hear the strong voice of Steve shout, “Who hurt her, Tony?” 

Followed by Sam, “Do I need to hold someone down whilst Wanda handles it?”

Natasha pipes up, “I already hacked his file.”

Clint quips, “I'm going to go and steal his cat. Asshole doesn’t deserve pets.”

You smile into Bucky’s chest, finally letting your body relax, loving your weird little family.

~~~~~

The Tower settles into a hush as the sun sinks low, orange hues into the skyline. Most of the Avengers have retreated to their rooms or training quarters. Peace has returned.

You’re tucked away in your little nook in the library again, where it's quiet and familiar. The same armchair always cradles your frame, a blanket wrapped loosely around your legs, a book open across your thighs.

You’re trying to read. Really, you are.

But your heart’s still hammering from earlier. From the way Buckys' voice dripped into something dangerous and the glow in Wanda’s eyes.

They're always protective, but today, you get to see it up close. Your pulse quickens when the door clicks shut across the room. You glance up from the book to see them both standing there, Bucky with his arms folded, smirk tugging at his mouth, and Wanda, fingers glowing faintly as she flicks the lock closed with a flick of her hand. 

“Hi,” you breathe, voice already shut. Neither speaks right away.

Bucky crosses the room slowly, eyes never leaving yours. Wanda mirrors him from the other side, moving in sync.

“She still looks a little rattled,” Bucky notices, eyes flicking to Wanda, who is watching you just as intently.

“She does,” Wanda hums. “We should warm her up. Why don’t I start and you grab the book, Bucky?”

Bucky’s grin deepens as he disappears down the nearest aisle and Wanda steps forward, hand outstretched. “Come here, draga.”

You rise slowly, nerves buzzing. She pulls you in by the hips, her hands warm and commanding already. Her lips find yours in an instant, soft, and slowly deepening. She kisses like she's savouring everything about you, also like she doesn’t want to let go.

Her fingers slip beneath your sweater, dragging it up, revealing inch after inch of skin. “So pretty, and you’re all mine,” she praises with a hint of possessiveness in her tone.

Her hands touch over your back, your sides, gently touching every soft inch. You gasp when she presses her thigh between yours, rocking your hips against her leg.

“You always get like this after someone upsets you,” she coos. "Like you need reminding who you belong to.”

“I do,” you whisper.

Her smile is dark. “You will.”

Your sweater hits the floor, then your bra, then your leggings are peeled down with deliberate care. Wanda kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your sternum, all lingering with worship.

When you’re bare in her arms, she presses you gently back against the chair, still kissing you deeply. Her hands trail over your thighs, her touch light and teasing. Then you hear Bucky’s voice, amused from behind a bookshelf.

“Look what I found.”

You peek around Wanda to see him holding a familiar paperback, its dog-eared spine faded, with a pink cover featuring a cartoon illustration on the front.

Oh no. Your favourite smutty book. 

"Bucky-”, you start, embarrassed that he even recognised it.

“You wanna tell me why the pages in this chapter are all… worn?” he asks with a smirk, flipping it open. “Chapter nineteen: On the library floor. Hmm, how fitting.”

You hide your face in Wanda’s neck, but she giggles, breath hot on your cheek. “You reread that scene a lot, huh?”

"I- maybe- shut up.”

“I think we should do more than just read it,” Bucky says, sauntering over. "But first…”

He opens the book, clearing his throat dramatically. 

“She trembled beneath his fingers, bare and breathless, as he traced the edge of her jaw and whispered that she was his. Only his.”

Wanda’s lips brush your ear. "You like that part, draga?”

Your thighs clench. Bucky kneels in front of you now, eyes fixed on yours as he reads. “He kissed down her body like it was scripture, memorising every gasp and whimper. She was trembling, open for him.”

Wanda’s hand slides between your thighs. Her fingers move slow and steady, just like the book. You moan softly, overwhelmed by the layered sensations, Buckys voice, Wanda's touch, your own heat climbing high on your cheeks. 

“He didn’t rush. He made her feel it, all of it, because pleasure was power, and she was his goddess to worship.”

You whimper, hips rocking into Wanda’s hand as she circles your clit in pressured touch. “Getting close already, sweet girl?” Wanda whispers against your neck. “We haven't even gotten to the good part yet.” 

You nod helplessly, pleasure oiling tighter in your belly. 

Bucky lifts a brow. "You’re not supposed to cum yet.”

Too late. It crashes over you with a pathetic gasp, knees trembling as your body arches into Wanda’s arms as her fingers work you through it. Bucky just chuckles at how easy it is to get you to fall apart.

“Well," he says, licking his thumb and turning the page, "that's one orgasm down."

"Time to swap," Wanda purrs, stepping back.

You don't even have time to recover before she's laying you down across the cushioned armchair, your head now resting on Bucky’s thigh. He grins down at you, stroking a hand over your head. 

"Let's pick up from the next chapter, doll. You ready?” Bucky asks, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Wanda settles between your legs, eyes gleaming.

“She thought she’d been satisfied, but he proved her wrong. Again. And again.”

Bucky reads as Wanda proves it true. Again, and again.

[strang3lov3]

Kiss it Better

You get hurt, and Roman puts you back together. Then makes you come all apart again.

Tags - stepdaddy!roman, one shot, smut, oral sex (f!receiving), implied piss kink, fingering/handjob, getting hurt, first aid, it’s not terribly graphic since I was able to stomach it lol, sweet and domestic - shut the fuck up about it it’s nothing im nothing it’s fine shut up.

A/N - all of you shut up. not one word .

“Jesus– fuck, you scared the shit outta me.” 

You smirk, amused by how easily Roman spooks sometimes. “Oh, hey, Rome.” 

Roman’s laying on the couch in near-dark, legs draped over the arm, mindlessly scrolling through his phone as the TV plays something forgettable in the background. It’s late at night, and it’s been an average day for you both. You ate dinner together like usual, but besides that, you didn’t talk much. He props himself up, squinting at you in the dark “Yeah, hi. Whatcha haunting my living room for at the lovely hour of–” Roman looks at the clock, “1 AM?”

You shrug. “I just wanted some tea,” you answer, and Roman makes an exaggerated face. 

“Well, aren’t you fancy. Crumpets, too, I’m guessing?” 

Dickhead. You flick Roman on the side of his head, and he whines when you do that. “Asshole.” He kicks your ass on your way to the kitchen a little harsher than what could be considered gentle, and then you turn on just one light. You open one of Roman’s mahogany cabinets and browse your tea collection, humming as you look through the boxes.

“Roman,” you call out. 

“What-an.” 

You snort. “What do I want?”

“What do you have?”

“I have…” Trailing off, you pull out boxes one at a time. You want nothing green or black, only herbal and caffeine-free. “I’ve got peach, Sleepytime, honey vanilla chamomile, then strawberry chamomile, aaand Throat Coat.” Throat Coat. You smile at the memory of Roman tending to you when you were sick. He had grabbed this tea for you in a moment of downtime and kept your mug full of it that whole weekend.

“Peach,” Roman answers, so peach it is. You take one of the bags out and bring it to your nose, inhaling the sweet, fragrant smell, then reach for the honey bear. It’s starting to crystallize, you notice. 

You’re filling up the Keurig with some water next, then turning on the machine to let it warm up. Behind you in the other room, you can hear Roman giggling at the stupid noises it makes. He can perfectly imitate it, actually. You love that useless skill of his. 

You open another cabinet for a mug, choosing your favorite one out of the bunch - it’s just a silly, old, cheap-ass mug, but you like the colorful owls it’s painted with. And it’s nicely shaped too, and feels good in your hand like it was made for you or something. You take the mug, startled to see a fucking huge black spider has made itself at home at the bottom. “Oh my god!” you shriek, dropping the mug instinctively, where it shatters into a million pieces. The spider skitters under the fridge. “Fuuuuck.” 

Roman pauses his scrolling and cranes his neck to look at you in the kitchen. He says your name cautiously, then, “...You good?” he asks worriedly, “What the fuck just happened?”

“It’s nothing, just - there was a spider in my mug and I dropped it. God fucking - whatever. Fuck.” 

“Okay, well, is there glass everywhere?” 

You look down at the floor, assessing the mess. It’s not everywhere, per se, but you can’t take any step in any direction without stepping in the glass. “Uh, yeah. More or less.”

Roman sighs and shuts off his phone, groaning as he gets up from the couch. He does a little stretch and a yawn, his t-shirt riding up and exposing his tummy, and the faintest bit of a happy trail there. “Alright, just hang on a second, okay. I’m gonna find a broom,” he says, then adds, “Do not fucking touch anything. Don’t even breathe/”

You roll your eyes at that. He’s such a worrier at times, overprotective. You might’ve been embarrassed by him as a teenager, but now, you’re just amused by it all. It’s kind of nice to have someone care so deeply for you, too. 

You know when you were a child, and you’d break a glass accidentally, and your parent would come rushing in? And they’d be deadly serious as they told you to get out of the way so they can clean up the glass. They didn’t want you getting hurt, they’d say. But when you grow up, that doesn’t really happen. Nobody gives a shit if you break a glass. But Roman does, though. He complains, but he likes being the person to clean up your broken glass, so long as it means you’re not getting hurt. Roman walks to the entryway and slides on some shoes, then opens the nearby closet door to find a broom. 

There’s really not much room for you where you’re standing. Looking down, you can see that you can’t adjust your footing at all, so you crouch down and carefully brush some of the glass away, making more room for yourself. 

And it comes back. The spider bolts quickly toward you, but there’s nowhere to run like you’d usually do. You squeal anxiously and smack it with your palm before you even have a chance to think. You’ve never been much of a fighter in a fight-or-flight situation, though. Guess there’s a first time for everything, right?

God, why did you fucking do that? 

“Ohhh, fuck no. Fuck. Ow, ow, ow,” you whimper, flipping your hand over to quickly see the damage, but even a brief glimpse is too much for you. You see glass and the color red, so much fucking blood.  “Oh my god, fuck.”

Roman returns to the kitchen with a broom in hand, and his face drops when he sees you on the floor, hand dripping blood onto the tile below. “Oh my god, what did you fucking do?” 

You’re already looking gaunt and glassy-eyed, too. “Hey. Hey - Jesus fucking Christ.” Roman rushes to you and drops to your level, taking your hand into both of his own. He looks so concerned, with his worried eyes and brows pinched together, a frown on his lips as he does his best to inspect the damage, but it’s not light enough to see much. He murmurs your name, voice low, and pushes hair out of his face as he exhales. 

“The spider came…b-back and I smashed it and I–” you cut yourself off before you finish describing the rest of it.

“Smashed your hand into a fucking pile of broken glass, yeah, I see that. Smooth one, dumbass.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper. 

Roman exhales hard. “C’mon, kid. Up. You’re coming with me.” Roman steadies you as you rise and quickly sweeps some of the glass out of the way with his foot, making room for you to step forward.

“Are we going to the ER?” 

“Uh, possibly. I need to see how bad it actually is first.” Roman glances down at your dripping fingers. “Which…isn’t great so far. Okay. Don’t step on anything, alright? Just be fuckin’ careful, John McClane.”

“What?”

“Die Hard? Dude, we literally fucking watched it last Christmas -  he walks on the glass? Right? Barefoot, is any of this - Jesus Christ, never mind. Just - ppstairs.”

As Roman steers you up the stairs, he wraps his arm around you, squeezing your waist tightly to brace your potential fall. He walks slowly, keeping a watchful eye on you. “You’re fucking ridiculous, you know,” he says. “You’ve never killed a spider in your life - like, never - until now, where you smashed both it and your hand into a fuck ton of broken glass. Is that like - is that a logical progression, do you think?”

You whine in pain as your hand really begins to throb. Each heart beat has your hand pulsing in the same time, aching as all that blood rushes to the wound. “Are you pissed at me?”

Roman just sighs and kisses your temple. “No,” he tells you, exasperated.

“Promise?”

“Uh huh, whatever.” 

You stop walking and look at him, eyes all wide and nervous. You’re scared and vulnerable, and he knows at that moment that you need a little more tenderness than what he’s giving you. Even if he is annoyed. Not annoyed-annoyed, but…whatever. It’s Roman’s anxiety more than anything. He just doesn’t like to see you hurt, is all, he’s not trying to be a dick. “Yes, I promise. Not pissed.”

Roman holds your clammy forearm firmly in his hand as he guides you to the bathroom. You’re looking at the blood dripping down your wrist, feeling warm and fuzzy, but not in a good way. “There’s so much glass a-and–”

“Spider guts in your hand, yep. I know it’s gross. Don’t l - hey. Don’t look at it. Just look at me.” 

“I’m trying, I’m just feeling a little dizzy is all, Roman.”

“Yeah, well, that’d be your - you know, you-ness. Hey - I’m serious, don’t fucking look at that shit. Look at me, sweetheart. Look at my sexy fuckin’...I don’t know. Just look at something else.” 

He walks you to the bathroom, and he places you on the sink. “You sit, and you stay. And you do not look at your hand, okay?” he says, then turns to open a closet and pulls out the first aid kit. It’s years old at this point, and probably, definitely missing some essentials, but it doesn’t hurt to have, especially considering the present moment. 

Roman turns around to check on you, and you’re looking at your hand with that glazed look on your face. He says your name once, then twice, and it takes you a second to register that he’s even speaking to you. Roman sounds so far away, underwater, even. “What’d I fuckin’ tell you? Nope, don’t - leave it. Leave it. Eyes on me.” 

“But Rome–”

Roman ignores you. “Look away,” he tells you instead. “And if I have to tell you one more time, I’m going to strangle you, okay? And then your hand’s gonna be the least of your problems.” 

Roman knows who you are, and so do you. You’ve got this tendency to get all fucking squeamish and freaked out by blood, through no fault of your own. He  knows you can’t help this, but you absolutely can help looking at the thing that’s gonna trigger you to faint.   

It’s not the first time it’s happened. Once, when you were a teenager, you snuck downstairs late at night, looking for a snack. Not unlike you did tonight, too. Roman was watching some TV show and you walked right past him, waving shyly. “Hey, you. It’s–” Roman looked at the clock. “Way past bedtime, holy fuck.” 

“I don’t have a bedtime,” you replied, heading for the kitchen pantry.

“Mm, too cool for a bedtime, I see. I get it. Me too, actually. But whatcha grabbing there?”

“Cookies,” you answered, grabbing a plastic box of some fancy holiday season Harry & David whatever-the-fuck gourmet cookies. 

“Ooh, sharing is caring. Thanks.” 

You mumbled something in response, messing with the plastic. It was deceptively difficult to open, and when you finally did open the box, it wasn’t without a slice to your fingertip. 

It wasn’t even particularly bloody or deep, really, but you stood there in the pantry, just staring at it. Your vision started to go spotty, the lights were getting darker as you felt so, so heavy and dizzy and just…awful, swaying back and forth. “Uhh…Roman?” Your voice sounded far away, even coming out of your own mouth. 

“What’s up, night owl?”

“I think I need a Band-aid.” 

Roman sighed and stood up, rummaging through a nearby drawer for a box of bandages when then came a loud tumble. He spun around quickly to see you face down on the fucking floor. 

“Oh, shit.” 

He rushed to your side and turned you over, his hand at your side. “Wake up, wake up.” Roman was relieved to see your eyelids fluttering, though your pupils were unusually wide. Your chin was bleeding, also, and your face was a little sweaty. 

“It’s the - my finger,” you said breathlessly, showing Roman your finger. He looked at it closely, then looked at you. 

“Uh-huh, I see. Not so big on blood, huh?”

You shook your head to confirm, out of breath. This wasn’t news to you - you’d fainted before in health class at school, but it was new to Roman. Guess it never came up before now. 

Roman left you on the floor to quickly grab a few bandaids and a clean washrag that he dampened with a bit of soap and some water. He put a bandaid on your finger first, then held the rag to your chin, which was bleeding heavily. Facial injuries always do. “That’s okay. I don’t mind it myself,” he told you. “Guess I don’t really like needles, though.” 

You shrugged, and a beat passed before you whispered, “I’m really sorry.” 

“What? No, don’t - don’t be sorry, honey,” Roman said, pulling the rag away to inspect the bleeding. He folded it in half, then pressed it to your chin again, keeping his hand there as he maneuvered his way around your body. He lifted your head a little, and put it on his lap. 

“Do you want me to get up?” 

“Nope, I want you to stay right there,” he said, pressing the rag firmly against your skin. Roman felt relieved to see some life come back to your cheeks - not much, just a little, as you became more lucid. “Right here. You’re good.”

The bleeding stopped after a few minutes. Roman put a bandaid on your chin next, and kept you right where you were on his lap. You still have that scar today. He kisses it sometimes; his last stop after kissing his way up the column of your throat. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently. 

“Oogey and swirly,” you answered, “And embarrassed.” 

Roman laughed silently. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause you’re a huge fuckin’ wimp…”

“But?”

Roman smiled kindly at you. “I like ya anyway,” he murmured. “Kinda. Tolerate you is more like it. We’re gonna stay like this until you’re doing a little better, okay?” 

You just nodded quietly, eyes closed as you settled against him. Roman traced your face and stroked your cheekbones with his thumbs, then spent some time playing with your hair. You stayed like that even after you came back to life and felt like yourself again. 

“You scared the fuck out of me, you little shit.” 

 “I know. Sorry, Rome.”

“It’s okay, honey. Not mad at you.”   

-

Roman spins around with a plastic basket in his hand, and in it is some supplies - tweezers, alcohol, gauze, medical tape, and some other stuff. Your head is resting against the wall, eyes closed, hand held tightly in a fist as you breathe deeply through the pain and some tears roll down your cheeks. Poor kid, Roman thinks, washing his hands in the sink. He pats them dry, then holds your forearm. “I’m gonna open up your hand, alright?” You’re shaking your head no, trying to focus on the way Roman rubs your skin instead of the way your hand throbs in pain. “Yeah, I am, honey. Open your hand.”

“No,” you argue. “You’re gonna hurt me.” 

“No, I am going to help you. But if you’re already hurt, what does it matter if I hurt you, too? You know, in the process of…all of this.” He gestures to the medical supplies. “Hm?”

You open your watery eyes and glare at Roman, who holds his hands up in surrender. “Roman.”

Roman says your name sternly, but with a gentleness to it, too. “Hey. I’ve got you, alright? The quicker you let me look, the quicker all of this fuckin’ shit is over. Okay? Can you do step one with me? Just step one, sweetheart. It’s so fuckin’ easy.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, rolling around his offer in your head. Logically, you know it’s not just going to be step one. After step one will be step two, then step three, and so on. But you like the way Roman makes it all seem smaller right now, how he makes it all seem less scary. You nod and relax your fist. 

Roman takes the cue to pry open your fingers, slowly revealing the injury. There’s blood, there’s cuts, and there are quite a few obvious shards of glass sticking out of your palm, but beyond that, it’s really not so bad. Certainly doesn’t warrant a trip to the ER. 

You can feel his breath on your skin as he raises your palm and turns it from side to side, and as he pulls out his phone and uses his flashlight to inspect a little closer. “How’re we doing over there, huh? Not looking, right? ‘Cause if you faint again and crack your fucking skull open, I swear to god…” Roman clicks his tongue. 

“N-no. Not looking,” you answer, cringing at the warmth of the blood pooled in your palm. “Is it bad, Rome?”

“Mhm, oh yeah. Gonna have to amputate, actually. Wanna jerk me off one last time before it’s gone for good? Hm? A little farewell handy for the road?” 

You laugh breathlessly, pressing your other hand against your sweaty forehead. “Oh, fuck you, Roman,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, you wish. No, you’re not getting amputated, sweetheart, but I am gonna perform some minor surgery, so.” Roman puts your hand on your thigh and opens the cap of the isopropyl alcohol, then dumps the bottle onto a cotton ball. 

You open your eyes and see him wiping off the tweezers, thoroughly cleaning them before he uses them on you. Your heart beats harder and you feel dizzy even thinking about what he’s going to do to you. Fuck, you remember those tweezers. Roman would use them when you were a kid, coming home from the park with splinters in your hands and fingers from the mulch. He’d dig them out with said tweezer and you’d scream the entire time, and it was all of ten seconds but it felt like minutes that he was in there. He’d wrap your finger up in a rainbow Bandaid and would try not to feel hurt that you wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. He figured he deserved it/

“Roman, no. No, no, no. Don’t, please, don’t–”

“Yep,” Roman says, taking your wrist again. You pull it away from him, wincing at the glass shards moving in your hand. “C’mon, give it back.” Roman gives you a look and tilts his head, only to be met by you shaking yours. 

Something changes in the way he looks at you then. There’s still care and concern in his eyes, something so warm. Something loving. But his eyes darken, pupils swallowing his hazel irises as he reaches for your cheek. “Can you give me back your hand, honey? Please? Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

Roman’s not oblivious to the way your heartbeat changes, or how your breath hitches in your throat. He wears his gorgeous, lopsided smirk as he runs his thumb along your cheekbone. “Yeah, you can do that, can’t you? Hm? You’re gonna be a brave girl for Daddy?”

You nod silently, earning a chuckle from Roman. “Oh, you are so fucking easy. Yeah, you can do it,” Roman says, moving his hand from your cheek to your wrist. “You’re gonna let me take care of this,” he murmurs, reaching for the tweezers, “And if you’re good…” Your breathing changes as Roman whispers something in your ear, finishing his offer with a couple of kisses pressed against your neck. “What do you think, hm?”

You give your hand over to Roman, willingly. 

He smiles silently and lays your palm out wide in his warm hand, then grabs the tweezers and thinks about how he’s gonna do this. 

The tougher shards are gonna come out first, Roman decides. Sorry, kid. He doesn’t tell you this, and instead gets right to work, pinching the shards of glass with the metal tweezers and pulling them out, holding your hand tightly when you try to pull it away. “Ow,” you whine, shaking and trembling a little. “Ow, ow, ow–”

“I know, I know. Almost done,” Roman lies, moving onto the next one. You wince harder when he pulls it out, a sob escaping your chest. He moves quickly and does the next one, and the one after that. 

“Rome–”

“You’re doing so good,” he promises, pulling out the easier shards now. You shouldn’t be feeling much at this point, but that doesn’t mean your mind’s not playing tricks on you. “One…two…three - shit, sorry - last one,” he says, and finally, “Four. Worst is over. Take a breath.”

You breathe deeply as Roman disposes of the glass into the wastebasket, then cleans off the tweezers once again. You’re relieved to see him do so. 

“So no ER?”

“No ER,” Roman affirms, turning on the water next. “Nothing’s deep enough to need stitches or shit like that, so you’re good. I’m gonna wash your cuts and wrap you up and send you on your merry way, hm?”

“Okay,” you nod, looking away as Roman your palm under the lukewarm water. All that blood temporarily stains the porcelain a reddish-orange, then washes down the drain. 

Roman finds a clean rag and some soap, then gently drags it along all of your scrapes and lacerations. You hiss in pain, that awful, sharp sting of the soapy water in your wounds making you twitch and shiver. 

“You’re lucky, honestly. I could piss on your hand instead, you know. To sterilize it.”

You laugh at that, cheeks heating up at the implication. You pause and wonder for a second about that. If Roman’s ever…if he would ever…if you’d…

“Oh my god, you sick fuck. You actually want that?” Roman laughs, squeezing some antibiotic ointment onto his fingertip to spread over your cuts. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Sure, but you didn’t not say that, did you?” Roman taunts. He lays some gauze over your palm and gives you a knowing look that you shy away from. He wraps more gauze around your palm and anchors it to your wrist, loving the way you squirm at this dirty little secret he’s uncovered. 

“Shut up,” you mumble. Roman raises his eyebrows as he tears off some tape with his teeth, then secures the gauze in place. He finishes the entire thing by kissing your palm gently, then lays your hand on your lap. 

He inhales and exhales slowly, and it seems that you’re more relaxed now, too. “You survived,” he says dramatically, “High five,” and raises hand. You raise your hand to meet his, quickly switching to your other, uninjured hand with a giggle. “Yeah, no, not that hand, dumbass. Oh my god, you’re fucking exhausting.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper, high-fiving Roman gently. He grabs both of your hips and pulls you to the edge of the sink, slotting himself between your thighs. 

“You okay?” he asks, “Are you dizzy at all?”

You shake your head, feeling more yourself now. Your hand does still hurt, though. “I’m okay.”

Roman nods, then pauses before he speaks. “I’m like - like I am very proud of you, actually,” he says quietly. “You did good.”

Roman’s drumming his fingers along your waist, looking so handsome as he smiles kindly at you. You hate this, the vulnerability you feel. The whole ‘I’m worried about you’ song and dance. It’s just hard, in a way, to be so seen and cared for. You think if you explained it to Roman, he’d understand. But you’re not going to.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” Roman says softly, and you scoff. “What? I can’t be proud of you? Hm?” He kisses your cheek over and over again, making you giggle until he quiets you by crushing his lips against yours. 

It’s been some time since you’ve kissed him last, so it’s nice to do. You think a lot about the first time Roman kissed you, all those butterflies you felt. You don’t get them as much anymore, but there’s still something so nice about kissing Roman, about tasting and smelling him, and feeling like he’s yours, whatever he is. Whatever this is. It’s perverse, but it’s home at this point.

The way his tongue slides past your lips and into your mouth, and how he squeezes you and groans. You love getting to feel him, too. Sliding your palm along his veiny forearm, squeezing his bicep, wrapping your legs around his slim waist. While kissing him, you reach for his pants and press your palm against his half-hard erection, wincing at the pressure against your wounded hand. “Yeah, nice try, honey. Gimme this–” Roman takes your hand and moves it away from his body, then undoes his pants himself. He drops them and his briefs just low enough to free his cock and his balls, then takes your other hand and wraps it around his length. “Yeah, fuck. There we go.”

You stroke his cock, feeling him pulse and twitch under your palm as you kiss him messily, moaning against his lips. Roman’s arm brushes against yours as he pushes your shorts to the side, humming because you’re wearing no panties. His fingers slide through your folds easily, already so wet and ready for him. 

He ignores your clit entirely and pushes two fingers inside you, curling them against that special spot that makes you stop breathing for a second. You cry out as he finger fucks you, quieted as he swallows each of your moans. 

You love Roman’s dirty fucking mouth, but you love this, too. All these lewd noises - the wet, sticky sounds your pussy makes, the quiet groans and hums from Roman as you swipe your thumb over his slit. The sounds of heavy breathing and that warmth created between your bodies. 

Roman kisses across your jaw and down your neck, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your torso, too. He hooks his fingers around your shorts and pulls them down, then sinks to his knees and pushes yours apart. 

It starts with kisses on your inner thighs, all lazy and sloppy. Roman’s looking up at you with those gorgeous, deep set sleepy eyes, letting them flutter shut as he kisses your seam. He just does that for a moment, simply kissing your cunt over and over and over until he sucks your clit between his lips, making you gasp.

Roman swirls his tongue around the sensitive part of you, then licks up and down your folds, savoring all of you. You wonder if he’s touching himself at all, or if his cock is just there, leaking and throbbing. You want to wrap your hand around it, want it in your mouth. You want him inside you. 

Roman pushes his middle two fingers into you and moves them as he moves his tongue in circles around your clit, finding that perfect rhythm. You slide your fingers through the slightly greasy strands of his hair, tugging on them as he eats you, working you closer and closer to release. 

It comes quicker than it used to. Roman knows your cunt so well at this point, and he’s lovingly memorized the exact way to kiss you and tongue you to make you cum so hard for him. When your clit swells in his mouth, like it’s doing now, he knows you’re close. Shaking, twitching, rocking your hips. 

You look so beautiful when you cum, and you’re such a good girl, watching him as you do it. Your eyes stay locked on his as you ride out your release, and it’s so profoundly fucking intimate. There’s nobody you’d rather share this with. Likewise for Roman. 

He should fuck you next. He should stand up and push his cock into you, but he doesn’t. Roman’s hard as ever as he tucks himself away and wipes his shiny lips on the back of his hand, then kisses your temple. He does a quick check on your hand, making sure the wound dressing hasn’t gotten all fucked up or anything like that. Roman’s out of breath when he pulls you off the countertop and sends you toward his bedroom, not yours. “Go to sleep,” he says, walking you forward with a hand on your lower back. “I’m gonna - gonna go clean up your fuckin’ mess downstairs.” 

“But you - your–” You spin around, and Roman gently pushes you into bed. 

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I have hands.” 

“I have hands, too.” 

“You have a hand,” Roman corrects, tucking you into bed. 

“And a pussy,” you add.

“Mhm, congrats on that. Now go to bed,” he tells you. “Maybe I’ll fuck you in your sleep or something, alright?”

You laugh. “Creep.”

“Could piss on you too,” Roman teases, then kisses your lips. “I’ll be back. Go to sleep. Watch your hand.” 

you know the drill :) say something nice if you enjoyed. love you all.

romey tags :)

@gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout @galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson @moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife @thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @baronessvonglitter @myromeow @doll-0f-flesh @always-andromeda @causesimmer @pedropascalbabygirl @baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars @perpetuallymanic @111melo @veryverycoolgirl @marisemonteiroo @prettybpdgirl @butuhaventseenmyman @drunkdriverkillerwhale @fawnjaw @fadedviolets @flowercrowns-goodvibes @foursgurlx @hotdadlvr95 @keepinnitundercover @spiidergwenn @pearlessance @thievin-stealing

[allpiesforourown]

I have such intense feelings for your bingyuan roommate au, it’s unreal. Binghe would be the BIGGEST green tea bitch/pick me girl but only towards sy, no one else. encountering lbh in the wild first and then experiencing him next to sy would be a fever dream of epic proportions. actual dozens of women would want to behead him and rip out his guts. bc lbh would ditch them on their birthday, an actual medical emergency, or anything critical at all just bc sy vaguely implied he was hungry (lbh now HAS to cook for him, it is not a want, it is a NEED)

And sy would be worse then evvvver, lol. “That’s my little didi binghe, he’s so sweet and sensitive, girls are always breaking his heart :((( If I were his girlfriend I’d get married to him next week and bounce on him silly style. Too bad no one will ever appreciate binghe like I do :(((((” and it is only after MANY of those thoughts that he realizes that he might not feel all that brotherly towards lbh

on a hornier note, I’m at a toss up between thinking that lbh would bring his hookups/girlfriends back to his and sy’s home and fucking them there (bc in lbh’s mind he can’t cum right without the reminder of his gege… and what if gege walked in 🤤… maybe lbh can get him to join…) or him absolutely refusing to let any of them so much as glance at his gege (no one should look at sy except him)

EXACTLY EXACTLY EXACTLY you get it anon.

It's literally like

Woman: let's have a threesome with your friend

Binghe: the idea sounds so appealing but I don't want some stranger getting his hands on him! I don't want to share him with someone who doesn't show him the love he needs. I'm the only one who knows him well enough to be in a threesome with shen yuan

Woman: thats sex. You're just describing regular two people sex. You want to fuck your best friend.

In my head for this au I imagine them as long time friends.. shen yuan found binghe getting bullied at a park or something when they were kids and told his bullies to fuck off. Then he listened to binghe cry about how he's so worried about his sick mom being overworked and begged his parents to hire binghes mom. With way better pay, hours, and work environment, her health improved a lot and she's good friends with shen yuans parents.

Binghe tells himself he acts like shen yuans guard dog because he'll always be grateful for what he's done for his family, but really, he fell in love with his Yuan ge at first sight the second he saw a boy standing up for him instead of ignoring his bullying.

Someone: say something nice about your best friend

Binghe: oh I have so much to say! He's so sweet and intelligent and adorably nerdy ! He saved me and my mom and-

Someone: say something nice about your girlfriend

Binghe: um..... uh ...... well.... sometimes she... hmm......

The poor women he dates. They'd go through SO much suffering trying to "fix" him and then when they finally give up after going through hell itself, they see bingge and shen yuan get together and suddenly the most negligent terrible boyfriend in the world is buying flowers and posting corny pictures on Instagram and proposing a few months into the relationship.

Shen yuan: I can't believe I managed to bag someone as handsome beautiful and loving as binghe. He wakes up at 6am every morning to get started on breakfast so he can feed me in bed. He's so attentive I worry I'm taking advantage of him. How did he get broken up with so often? No one appreciates people like binghe

Everyone else binghe has ever dated: I told him I got stabbed and he left me on read

[deadghosy]

How would (Separate) Hazbin hotel (Demons &Angel) react to a green thumb gardener whose elegant, classy and attractive and she went to hell by mistake but it was a happy one (She's not completely weak as she has her plant to protect her and everything)

HAZBIN HOTEL X GARDENER! READER

prompt: a common mistake made demons and angels swoon over a gardener who just wants to take care of her/his plants

cw! Sir Pentious is alive for this so he can witness your beauty in flowers💗

note! I listened to Lana Del Rey while making this lol.

HELL

You didn’t know you were supposed to be in heaven as you started your own flower shop. It was the biggest know hell flower store with actual flowers.

You were practically poison ivy, but more kind and definitely calmer. Hell, even some of your regulars call you poison ivy. Mostly because if people touch you metaphorically the wrong way, then you technically show them a harsher side of you. Literally, a plant impaled a sinner trying to rob your store. 

What you didn’t except to get friends or even people interested into you as you just have a normal as shop you dreamed of before dying.

“Welcome to my flower shop, what can I help you with?” You said with a soft smile as a flower vine is watering other flowers in the background. Some imps, sinners, and hell borns go all the way to just see you and your flowers.

I can see you wearing a flower crown or just flowers in your hair. Like dead ass giving rapunzel. Possibly so, your alive flowers and vines had made that for you as you worked.

You most definitely wear those cute gardening outfits like overalls or those dresses if you prefer one of them or both.

See this is what I can imagine, I can imagine the whole damn hotel having a flower competition and you show up with a big ass plant with a neat pink bow on it 😭. You definitely had a smile as you drank tea with a secret smirk.

I can see you visiting the hotel Charlie has as she invited you to do some flower decor for a reopening of the hotel.

Imagine how pissed you were when a couple of sinners came in to make your shop look like shit. But you wasn’t gonna stand for it as you raised your hand grabbing the sinners by their necks with vines. “If you want flowers, I wouldn’t mind making you a funeral for you to have some.” You said with venom as the sinner practically shitted themselves as they were thrown out the windows of your shop.

A sinner had thrown a Molotov cocktail once in your shop all because he thought it was weird to have a “girly” flower shop in hell. As the fire spreads in your shop, you sighed having plant vines cover you in a big ball as one of the vine slither to find the culprit. After finding the culprit, you forced them to clean your shop since killing someone for such a petty crime like that in your opinion isn’t worth killing. You can always make a new shop and fix it.

Vaggie most definitely knows you as you hooked her up with flowers that Charlie might like. You told her Charlie seems like a simple girl would just like roses since they represent romance. And basically it was Vaggie and Charlie’s date night. And it was a success.

Angel dust loves how you don’t judge him for who he is by his work. But he definitely loves how you two gossip over some tea, well he drinks while you drink tea or water. You are like an older sister/brother figure to him. He loves resting in your bean bag you have in the back, he could just come in and and lay down straight.

I headcannon your whole palette to be like green, pink, yellow and white. Literally just spring ass colors to seem classy with your flower shop.

I can imagine you having the personality of applejack but more of a flower and gardening person as gardener! Reader were most definitely born in the south. Like I can imagine reader to be a mix of applejack, rarity, fluttershy but 100% of applejack’s honesty and a lot of Rarity’s elegance.

Niffty adores you! Literally she goes in your store to rant about she wants the hotel to smell fresh and ready. And you hook a sista up with how you give her scented plug in. She immediately starts worshipping you like Alastor which makes Alastor raise a brow seeing a shine of you in her room and drawings of you.

Charlie immediately loves how vaggie and angel ador you and find you as a loyal friend. She would love to have you at the hotel as a resident. She could even beg Alastor or her dad to make a flower shop for you to even stay longer by briding. She would also try to become your friend for her to succeed.

Sir Pentious went to your store to apologize again to Alastor as he felt that Alastor didn’t forgave him. He was scared you weren’t a kind “sinner” that only had a flower shop to scam people for their money. But when you spoke with kindness and care towards the snake demon. He felt calm in your presence, to the point when he got his flowers. He gave you one which made you smile at him and put it in your hair. He blushed and ran off.

The egg boiz love too appear in your store as their boss, penthouse is very nervous to talk to such an attractive person like you. You welcome the eggz to your humble store as you give them flowers to give back to the hotel staffs.

Angel and Cherri most definitely asked you to give them flowers to match their personality. You gave them both a Carnation flower which you thought was good for their personality. Or even a Lilly.

Husk kept seeing the crew leave the hotel to see them come back with flowers. He grumble confused at why they kept getting flowers. That is until he asked Charlie, and Charlie ranted about what a beauty and how kind you are. Husk raised a brow thinking you were putting up an act, so he went to see you. Let’s just say he got a rose coming back with a soft smile and a purr.

The Vee’s heard about you, Vox heard about you first and looked you up to see you are a popular florist and gardener with the power of Chlorokinesis. The power to mentally and physically control flowers. Vox smirked hearing about your 5 star rating shop. If it was that high ranked with people commenting it on yelp saying you were the best business to be at. You definitely got his attention at most.

Lucifer went to your store for some flowers to give to his daughter, and when he heard how amazing your store was. He went to se it himself. He definitely felt your pure spirit making him stumble into confusion on why you weren’t in heaven already. But he got his flowers and felt with a cup of tea you gave him. He shortly came back at the end of the day to give you his own flowers as he smiled with a snake smile and left leaving a note that says, “you’re welcome to come stay at the hotel! :)”

Alastor finally decided to meet you after hearing all the good things you did for the hotel and for the staff. He must say he was jealous how you won their hearts so damn quickly. He went to your store to see what’s all the fuss about and got hit with a lavender scent in his nose. He covered it as he wasn’t use to such sweet smell in hell as it’s filled with fire and blood. And there you were sitting there with a smile as warm plate of teas sat by you. You welcomed him as he made chat with you to find your heart pure with gold. He also left with a rose and a genuine smile.

I imagine how sweet you get your own flowers by regulars and your friends at the hotel as they love your passion about plants.

Headcannon on Gardner! Reader to be a Lana Del Rey fan as the song to match her/him is “born to die” 💗🦆

Vox was obviously the first Vee to meet you face to face as he had researched you so many times on the internet to get any scoop of you to only end up with an empty hand. So he decided to see you in person and smile with a charming one to see you greet him with a smile and show him the recommended flowers for loved one and family. He was not into the flowers as he watched the plant vines in the back work like hands. He smirks trying to use his hypnosis, but failed greatly as a flower in a vase covered his sighting of you. Thanks to your plant vines.

Velvette was the second one to come to your store as she was not impressed at how “boring and plain” it was in your shop. She was snarky about the decor and gave you tips on how to make it “pop” in here. You just smiled, and with a snap of your fingers, the decor changed to a more fashionable flower place. It made the female Vee almost drop her jaw and composure. But she can’t let some flower store shock her. So she left with one last snarky comment under her breath.

Valentino definitely came in last to see what was up with your whole popularity of your “business” of flowers as he was so busy working his porn industry. So when he walked in yo see you reaching for some flower seeds to get for a customer. He grabbed your waist, wanting to seem flirty only for it to backfire as a vine punches him away from you. You already knew who this bastard was, and you weren’t gonna let him get you like how he got angel. So during his entire visit at your shop, you made it a living hell. Literally.

I can see the Vee’s coming back every weekday to try and get you to be their little flower pet, but you ain’t buying it. 😘

You most definitely have a vine hammock in the corner of your store as you just sit there and nap during your breaks.

Imagine how cool and sweet you are to the imp and hell born children that come to visit your store for father day and mother day. Hell, even valentines days

I can headcannon that gardener! Reader has once in their hell life down there had to drag out a rude Karen ass bitch by their hair. You fuck with their plants, you fuck with them.

Imagine how chill you are just sipping tea as your plants and vines attack some dude trying to steal your sunflower seeds. Yeah, no one gets out without being traumatized by plants 😍

You came into the hotel once and immediately got love bombed by everyone. But not in a manipulate way, they just appreciate how amazing you are to people even the staff at most. They go as far to throw you a “welcoming” party 💗

Lucifer had most definitely sent ducks with mini flower crowns and a Gardner duck to you as he finds you very elegant and beautiful in your own way. He even accidentally tries to court you with his wings when he leans against at the front desk of your store staring into your eyes.

HEAVEN

Adam had eventually was sent to take you back into heaven as sera realized her mistake. You willingly went with Adam who smirked at your sweet smile and took you up by your hand. Like, let’s say whatever happened in the hell section didn’t happen as you just had a bad time in hell itself.

St. Peter immediately greets you, making feel welcome to your new home. He even baked you cookies with a smiley face. He tries to make chit chat with you when he isn’t on duty getting people into the gates. He literally visits your workplace in the flower store you own, bringing cookies, making sure you are okay. Hell-, I meannn heaven gods..he must be a househusband cause GYATT DAMN this man is making sure you are well and healthy in heaven’s care. 💗💗

Sera most definitely have showed you around heaven with a please smile to see a Gardner. You would’ve been great for the Garden of Eden, is what she says in her head as you smile at the trees and potted plants around. You even showed the seraphim your powers, and she must say that she was pleased and made you a gardener around heaven and even your own garden shop and house.

Emily most definitely tries to go visit you everyday to try and find flowers that match you so you can be surprise when she buys you flowers herself. You and Emily definitely have a sibling relationship at most because of how she looks up to you in a gardening way as she also wants to impress you by making her own garden and green house. She also makes sure you take breaks as she wants to help with the customers as you take a break in the back. Your friendship with her is so wholesome and lovely.

Adam likes how classy you are, you don’t even cuss him out when you are angry at him. You just put your hand in his face and walk away. Sassy, but classy enough to not curse someone the fuck out. Yeah sure that might’ve turned him on a bit at how hot and “bitchy” that was of you. Cause no one has ever rejected the “Dickmaster”. So it was his duty to make you his friend…sorta😨. But it’s all fun and games at how you guys are like frenemies at most since Adam actually can’t stand you, but still flirts at how attractive and kind you are. Hell even strong minded.

The angels absolutely love coming in your store! They find every single plant and flower you made incredible. You practically almost run out of business when it’s Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. But you can’t complain when they leave so much heaven bucks for you to get more plant seeds and such. The angels also love how pure of gold your heart is as you even give some off free for the heaven borns and winners.

Big headcannon on how your Gardner outfit in heaven, the palette is a soft green and pink pastel. But Adam and Sera had thought about you wearing a gold, white, and blue type of Gardner outfit. They want you to stay pure and mighty.

OOOH IMAGINE HAVING CUTE ASS WHITE GLOVES 😭😭 LIKE THEY HAVE THOSE STITCHED IN GOLD THREADS AND LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE AND COMFY INSIDEEE💗💗

Since i headcannon that Gardner! Reader to be a damn Lana Del Rey fan, their song that matches them in heaven is “young and beautiful.” As you are young and beautiful and mostly, you’re in heaven.

Literally imagine Adam just shows up to just degrade you, but it doesn’t work as you just sit there reading your daily newspaper or on your phone to just see plant and gardening instagram from earth and heaven. Adam pouts or even scoffs before taking your phone and acting like a fussy cat wanting attention.

You really don’t give a fuck about Adam but he definitely gives a fuck about you.

The angels sometimes ships you with Adam, but they also ship you with st.peter at how he is basically the house husband and you are the girl boss who works their ass off😭

Lute and Adam are definitely the type to be those teens who visit their local market..dead ass when they are free they just come to your store and just start “window shopping”…but really they just either want to mess with you or actually know about your day.

I can see you literally just chilling, and Adam busts open the store door that has that jingle bell on it so harsh and all he says is. “Wassup bitch!” With his usual grin and a soda cup as you just groan annoyed.

St.peter literally tried to work beside you ok his days off to just see how “calming” your job is. Until rush hour comes😭 that’s when hell itself unleashes with people wanting to grab any scented flower candles and flowers for theirselves. Have mercy on Peter’s soul that he doesn’t get grabbed and clawed all because he said that the last product was in the back. 😭😭

Imagine how cute your damn angel wings must be. Cause I imagine them to be some god damn fairy wings to match a beautiful aesthetic with your flower and gardening store.

I headcannon you actually had thrown Adam like how vaggie thrown the staff like in the episode of “scramble eggs.”

lol I can see you just slapping Adam with your plant vine because of one misogynist joke he made. He had the most whip lashed mark on his face. He stopped making those fücking jokes like that as he just flinches as a vine comes near him. “WALK HIM LIKE A DOGGG!!” 😘😍

Sera loves gaining flowers from you as the angelic guards bring them in as she is doing her work.

Emily also feels the same way as she smiles and makes the guard send you flowers as well for a thank you. 💗🥺 please give this sweet baby a note back saying you appreciate her damn note so much..

Imagine having a whole tea and cookie station by your front desk where people pay. Like they get a nice drink and a snack in case they were hungry and thirsty from their trip to here. 😘☀️ you care about your customers and regulars deeply.

St. Peter had one time mistook the glass doors to be opened and fell back so dramatically onto his ass, he might as well confirm himself as dead 💀

Emily most definitely actually tried to grow a plant or flower to show you how much she learnt from you, only for the damn thing to fail. She wanted to cry and shrivel up in disappointment, but you taught her and help fixed her mistake on what she did at most.

Lute most definitely acts better without Adam, of course she could act better with Adam. It’s just that Adam is her home dog, and she is Adam’s homegirl. So of course they are besties. So with Adam not interfering with you and lute talking one on one for the first time. You two get quite long to the point she grabs your hands and smile. Leaving with a flower you gave her.

Your plants just causally changing into the liked flower of the customer or regular due to your plant magic on sensing what flowers they like supposedly💗

Headcannon on how short you are. Literally you are shorter than lute to Adam and Emily. It’s really funny but to you, it’s annoying asf since Adam picks you up like a stray cat found at the front porch ready to be taken in.

Emily and sera would have tea time with you definitely. Or coffee if they prefer. You don’t gossip of course but just lift each other up and talk about hanging out later in the days or weeks later. Heck even the day later maybe if Emily is very eager.

Lute most definitely had thrown flowers in your face as she isn’t use to showing affection towards a person she actually admires. Yeah she admires Adam, as a boss and best friend. But there is something about you that makes her stumble on her words.

You had to actually stay home once, forced by sera who got told by Adam you were overworking yourself. Adam and sera hated it as sera showed go to your job looking serious. Forcing you to stay in bed until you had a good sleep for the week.

Imagine just gardener! Reader literally accidentally making Adam spit out a four leaf clover as they were saying a spell in Latin to have four leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s day.

I headcannon Adam sometimes tries to court you with his wings, and you are confused as hell as you aren’t use to being courted by some fucking feathers.

I can see you having a potted plant pet beside you. It was practically a sapling as it smiled with heaven magic and told positive affirmations to waking customers. It’s so fuckin adorable

I imagine you just sleeping as your overworked at your store and Adam comes in pissed off you didn’t come home. So he literally picks you up over his shoulder and walks Home. He has the damn key to your house but he decides to just go to his house and lay you on his bed as he sleeps on the couch grumbling.

St.Peter, after that little incident with him walking into a glass door. This mofo literally puts his hands out towards any glass door 😭 like a little kid being traumatized after a glass maze. It’s so funny but so sad.

A young heaven born had brought you back a freaking flower crown in your most favorite flowers and you were so amazed. You gave the small little angel a flower crown of their own.

The visits are always welcomed to your store as Adam brings you his own set of flowers to try to impress you. 💗 you snickered seeing the note that says, “i hope you like it..bitch. *middle finger drawing* I heard this plant was your favorite.” Sweet, but sour ass motherfuker. 😭😭

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Comfort for the Soul

Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts*!Reader [REUPLOAD]

This is the reupload as I made the mistake of publishing it the first time round and it not being even finished, lol! Attempt no.2!

Part 2 out now!

A/N: Look babe, new comfort character just dropped! I've been loving these fics for Bob and wanted to add something myself! Not much to add apart from reader has no descriptions of what they look like but is afab.

I will be uploading a second part to this, so be sure to be on the look out! It'll also go uploaded onto my A03!

Summary: When you realise your supply of blood bags has run dry, Bob is more than willing to become your temporary blood bag.

Tags: blood, swearing, blood drinking, reader is part vampire (think Blade - daywalker), Bob is very touch starved, fluff.

Wordcount: 4,2k

E/C = eye colour

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

You stare down at the message your phone had lit up with, a simple message from your boss, Valentina.

If there was one thing you asked for from Valentina, it was to have the necessities: a roof over your head and some decent safety. It's not just that, it's that she's able to bring months on end supplies of blood bags, it's her buying a fridge just for the blood, buying the best quality cuts of steaks for you to eat rare or blue. She even got you herbal teas to help nurture your hunger temporarily.

In return, you provide your skills, your skills as a fighter, an assassin.

Looking over the message, your blood felt as if it was beginning to boil, nearly crushing your phone from the lack of explanation:

Y/N. The board is questioning the lack of blood bags. I can guarantee more to come in three day's time once we've figured things out. - V

"Just my fucking luck." You grunt, looking at your calendar on your phone; three days is simply too long to go without blood.

You're mad at yourself for overindulging in your supply. You had always been careful, counting what you needed daily, but you had decided to splurge out the night before, consuming two extra bags because your stomach wasn't satisfied.

A few days, she promised, though you doubted she was in any rush to fulfil that.

You check the clock, realising it's getting late, your accomplices/dorm-mates are up and you can hear that they're all in the kitchen grabbing breakfast.

Groaning, you grab a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses to shield your eyes from the sunlight. You can only thank those who experimented on you for giving you the gift of walking in the sun rather than burning.

You walk out, and immediately your senses are overwhelmed by the strong smells you could normally ignore. You can sense many heartbeats, and their scents differ from one another. Your ears seem to ring when you hear laughter, and your vision is hazy despite the shades to help.

Crossing the threshold from your dorms to the kitchen, you find out you’re the last person to be up.

"Ah, look who finally decided to rise from the dead." Walker is the first to 'greet' you, the triumphant look present on his face, revelling in taking you down a bit.

The smell of grease hits your nostrils before you can answer back, the strength of the coffee pot mixes to create a wavering nauseous stench, but you try to ignore both smell and words jabbed your way.

Walker doesn't seem to relent in his words, looking around the group to see if anyone else is laughing with him. Alexei is flipping bacon with his sous chef Bucky. Yelena is blitzing fruit up into some green concoction with the help of Bob chopping, and Ava is sipping her coffee, watching silently with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

"I mean," he continues, "has anyone actually looked in her room to see if she sleeps in a coffin?"

No one answers, but you can hear their snickering; there are eyes on you, waiting to see how you'd quip back.

"Maybe you'd like to sleep in one, Walker, it would really help with your attitude." you jab back, not as fierce as you'd wish, slowly moving round the table sluggishly, sitting yourself on the kitchen island table, opposite Yelena and Bob.

Yelena waves at you with the lid of the blender, "You look like shit, my friend."

"Yeah, I feel like shit." You mutter, looking over your surroundings, debating if you should grab a cup of coffee to help your nausea.

Bob is the only one who is silent, taking in both sides, listening intently, but his soft eyes do not leave you. There is visible concern in the way he looks at you.

"Hi," he awkwardly waves with the knife still in hand, putting it down. He looks as if he wants to say something about how you're doing, stopping from opening his mouth as he changes the subject, "Want a coffee?"

"That would be lovely, Bob. Thank you." You find yourself smiling easily when you're with or near Bob, eyeing him as he stands to go over to grab your favourite mug.

Yelena doesn't say anything, but she watches, a thoughtful raise in the brow, her eyes moving through between you and Bob. She knows something, she's thinking, but she's quiet and that is the scariest thing of all; not knowing what Yelena Belova was thinking.

The smell of black coffee brings your attention back, looking up at Bob as he hands you over your mug, a secret Santa mug you found out was from Ava saying 'Will this fucking day ever end?'

"Just freshly brewed." He smiles sweetly, your hands grazing over his accidentally as the mug is passed over, earning a collected mocking "Awww" to fill the room.

"It's so gross, I'm gonna puke." Ava fakes retches. Walker mimics kissing faces at you, but not in front of Bob. You're glad the large shades are hiding most of your face, or else the remaining warmth had made its way there.

It is only Alexei who seems to be 'supportive' of this. "Ah, young love! How it warms my heart."

"Yeah, if you had a heart to begin with," jabs Walker.

Bucky, who has been quiet in the room this entire time, looks over to John with a single look, but it doesn't stop the ex-Captain America.

"Is there anything else you'd like to say, John?" You chime in, lowering your glasses to stare directly at him. It's obvious that they have changed from their usual E/C to become a glowing red hue.

"Just surprised you haven't taken a straw to any of our necks whilst we're sleeping yet," he adds nonchalantly.

"Trust me, John. I wouldn't go anywhere near your blood- it reeks of 'I peaked in high school.'"

The snorts of laughter make you feel better, even Bob is laughing quietly to himself.

"Enough." Bucky starts before a fight can start in the kitchen area. The last one didn't go down so well. "I'm meeting with Valentina shortly. I can assume you can all get along without killing one another?"

"Yeah, sure, dad." Ava chimes in, and you nearly snort your coffee all over the place.

"Ha ha." Bucky rolls his eyes, strolling out as the remainder of you continue to eat breakfast, chatting about recent missions or new ones on the horizon. There's even talk of Bob going to his first one, but he is still reluctant in bringing forth the Sentry.

"If the day ever comes, Bob, you can always ask for me to be there." You say to him. This seems to brighten something within him, a hopeful look that burns brighter than any sun. "Really?" His face is one of relief and you can only wish you could bottle that look up forever.

Breakfast ends, and you ask to wash up, since you didn't need to eat, but no one made any argument against it.

Washing the dishes and putting them to dry, you're in your own little world, when you sense a fluttering heartbeat, a presence behind you-

"Sorry!" You don't know who jumps first, the loudness in Bob's presence or for you to nearly drop the plate in your hands.

"It's all good," you wave it off, turning to face him properly. "What's up?"

"The sunglasses-are you okay?"

"Oh, these?" You flip them off, revealing your more than normal eyes to him. "No, but I can assure you I'm not hungover." You laugh at your own joke pathetically, but Bob still wears a small smile, one that is still concerned for you.

"Yelena told me- you sometimes run out of... blood." He doesn't know where he's going with his words, and something shudders deep down in your chest. How Yelena knew and told Bob you don't know.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a bit of crankiness-which doesn't help if I get pissed off by Walker."

"I mean," he continues nervously, "you... ran out? She told me about one time when it happened."

"Oh." You recall it, the hunger was a gnawing pit, constantly never satiated, even when it was filled, but that time... that had been pure torture.

You had personally confined yourself to isolation until that next blood supply arrived, nearly consuming half of the supply in one go.

You sense the spike in Bob's heartbeat, he's nervous about something, you can see a single trail of sweat on his forehead, focusing in on the vein in his neck that moves when he's tense.

You're hypervigilant on the small parts of his nervous system that you almost don't hear his next words: "Maybe... I can be of help? With-with the blood I mean-"

"No." You answer curtly, and the word stops him that he looks at you like a kicked puppy. "Oh," he answers back sheepishly, his fingers going to the hem of his frayed sweatshirt, "did I do... something wrong?"

Your stance softened, realising what you've done, how harsh you said. Way to go, Y/N. Scaring him off. You hesitantly step forward to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. You feel him visibly tense, not from your touch, but in worry you'll both be brought back to a old memory of yours. It does not happen thankfully.

"I'm sorry, I don't want you to hurt yourself, Bob. This stuff can be really dangerous- what if I were to lose control? Hurt you?" You whisper the last part, your heart clenched in fear. "I would never forgive myself, Bob."

"I trust you." he answers earnestly. It's the same way all these times you've spoken to him when he doubted himself. How you helped bring some clarity and reason to him, to make him feel safe, that he was a trusted member of the team.

No wonder you developed such a crush for him so quickly.

"Bob-"

"I trust you- you've done so much for me... why can't I help you for once?" You're thankful you're the only two in the kitchen now, for the gladdening look he has, the rosy tint to his cheeks... the glint in his pretty blue eyes, it's all too much.

You sigh, maybe in defeat, maybe from nerves, but your stomach is doing somersaults at the thought of having a meal. "Fine. Tonight, meet me here when everyone else goes to sleep. Drink lots of fluids."

"Of course," he's grinning and he’s so proud of himself and it's taking a lot in you not to kiss him all over his pretty face. "I'll be very prepared."

You however, don't.

It's gone midnight when people slowly begin to filter back to their rooms, another 30 minutes before Bob finally emerges from his room.

As quiet as possible, he contemplates knocking on your door, deciding against it to not rouse noise or suspicion.

Tiptoeing carefully barefoot across the cold floors, the darkness warps shadows across his vision, and he fears for a moment if the Void is one of them, waiting to grab him and swallow him whole.

He ignores that worry, placing it in the back of his head, as he continues towards the kitchens, listening out to any noises as he keeps the lights off for now.

It's only when he hears it: the soft rustling of pots and pans, a fridge being opened. He rounds the corner slowly, thinking it to be Alexei or Walker grabbing a drink when he's greeted with them.

Glowing eyes, watching.

'Tapetum lucidum': You had described the term to him when he accidentally caught you in the middle of the night, nursing a herbal tea to quell your stomach.

The lights were off completely like they were now, leaving poor Bob to almost drop his cup when golden-white luminated eyes jolted up to stare right back at him.

He was surprised he didn't wake the entirety of New York with his scream.

Now, they didn't as much scare him but fascinate him. There were many things that fascinated him, and sometimes he found himself staring for a bit too long at your eyes, the elongated teeth that glinted when you spoke, the way he thought you stared him down like he was prey-

"Hey," the figure whispered, and a small light from the kitchen illuminated you. Gone were the golden-white eyes, replaced by the lovely E/C ones Bob was so used to. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Me too." Bob smiled, looking around to see some items already gathered; some tissue paper, band-aids of all sizes. Bob picks up a certain item, its content jiggling it its small carton.

"Apple juice?"

"Helps to not make you faint, helps with blood sugar." You counter, gesturing for him to sit as you move around him. There is a nervousness to you that he rarely sees in you. It's frantic, not as controlled as it usually is when you're not starved out your mind.

"You sure you want to do this?" You ask as you stand next to him. Even sitting on a stool, Bob comes pretty much eye level to you, and maybe even smaller due to him slouching.

"I want to help." He says again with a certain smile, and that smile is enough to ground you, to let you know you're trusted.

"Stop me at any point when it gets all too much, and I mean it." You sigh, looking him up at down as if you're sizing him up. "Now, take your shirt off."

Bob is certain his face has erupted into a million shades of red, but thanks to the dimness of the room, it's not as noticeable. He averts his eyes from you shyly at your frankness.

"I can't believe you just said that so casually." He says, but obliges, lifting his shirt slowly.

It takes all in you not to ogle: the man is ripped in a way you cannot describe. You force yourself to look away, but your mouth goes dry when you see the sudden happy trail going down towards his trousers that he hides when his shirt is off.

Now, shirtless and carved like a Greek statue, Bob awaits.

You shuffle closer to him until his scent hits you, nerves but mixed with his everyday smell, a hint of mint in his shampoo, the laundry detergent from his clothing.

Your mouth waters, eyes brighten in the darkness of the room, fangs grow as you eye the side of his neck. "Promise me you'll tell me to stop?"

"I promise." He answers, but he's so enraptured by the sight of you, your fangs, the way your eyes glow hauntingly. He's scared he will be too occupied in looking at you to even notice.

You enter his space even more, situating yourself between his parted legs, your fingers grace over his skin carefully. Like a sculptor, Bob is carved like a God only a creator would be proud or, but you are also a lover of art.

Bob visibly shivers, his body tenses and untenses, but his blue eyes do not leave you. "So... how are you going to do it?"

"I'm going to bite you." You say matter-of-factly. Bob snorts lightly, his brown locks hide his eyes as he shyly looks back at you. "As simple as that." He takes a small breath in, tilting his neck more to the side, giving his permission.

You lean over him, and that is when his heartbeat is the loudest, the strongest. It rings like a bell in your ears, overcoming you from the sound of it. It is all you can hear, not the humming of the lights, nor the sound of the city outside, just him and only him.

Your hands find him gently, your face leaning over him, closer and closer to him, sniffing him lightly and unintentionally- his scent drives you wild.

Bob is as stiff as a statue himself, waiting for the long-awaited pain, and when your mouth finally comes into contact with his skin, he thinks it's not so bad, the curvature of your lips is so soft on him.

That's when your fangs sink in.

"Oh-holy shit." He grips the counter with an urgency from the sharpness of the pain, followed by the sound of heavy slurping. Bob is now suddenly aware that this is all that he wanted, but the suddenness of it, the sounds that are coming from him, are all very intense.

And you... The noises that come from you the moment you sink your fangs into his shoulder are like music to Bob's ears. You groan from the delight; blood fills your mouth as you greedily try to swallow as much of it as possible.

You don't feel close enough, and Bob almost yelps when he feels one hand move to hold him closer, the other moving to run through his hair.

He shudders at the light tug in his hair, turning his head further the other way, a moan of delight makes him shudder against you.

He's never felt this open with anyone before, and having you so close against him, his head swims with further hurried thoughts.

His hands don't know what to do, hanging awkwardly and playing with the string of his sweatpants, twitching to touch something-anything-to occupy his thoughts as he grows closer and closer to losing his mind. It's when he realises, he needs you- you're not close enough, he needs to feel you practically against him to feel whole.

How will he tell that to you: to ask so sweetly that he's begging. He feels himself growing warmer, beads of sweat trace down his back. His eyes are blinking back the bright lights of the kitchen.

Despite your mouth being attached to his neck, you notice his fidgety hands, drawing back lightly to murmur against the wet flesh of him, "You can touch me."

He doesn't need to be told twice, his arms wrap round your waist, pulling you closer than you thought could be possible, a shudder escaping his trembling lips. A wave of relief washes over him, how has he never before had you this close?

His eyes are squeezed so tightly, clinging to any part of you for that will give him comfort. It's not even the pain of your fangs in his flesh that hurts him anymore-rather, it's become a dull ache, but the need to have you as flush to you as possible.

"Ah-shit, Y/N." It's the first sign that he's getting overwhelmed, and astonishingly, you detach yourself from him. As quick as you're gone, Bob already misses the feel of your mouth on his skin.

You don't take much from him for his first, pulling back to look over him. His skin is flushed, his brown hair is clinging to the back of his neck as if he has a fever. It doesn't help that his body has slumped lightly, holding you as close to him until his head is pressed to your chest.

Despite this closeness, he sways lightly with you in his arms, and in a panic, you're quick with the apple juice carton, pressing the paper straw to sit on his bottom lip.

"Here, drink up. Don't want you passing out on me." You say sheepishly.

Groggily, his eyes open, staring up at you, adjusting to the dimness of the kitchen. Your eyes glow lightly when the shadows dance across them, otherwise, they are E/C; bright and bold and beautiful as anything.

It's not just your eyes that render him speechless, but the blood - his blood- smeared messily over the bottom part of your face. Your lips gleam with the redness as if you're wearing lipstick, with some having already beginning to dry over your cheeks and collecting at the tip of your chin.

You feel nervous with his eyes on you, wiping the blood away in a terrible attempt with the back of your hand.

To him, you're are a sight to behold.

Gingerly, he searches for the straw with his mouth, gulping deeply until his tongue is coated with the sickly-sweet substance of apple juice. Too sweet that it tasted artificial, he pulls back, his fingers dancing lightly over your hips, a light hum drawn from him.

"Are you okay, Bob?" He hears you ask him softly, sweetly, does he think you're some angel, and he's truly experiencing heaven. He feels everywhere and nowhere, sitting in a space that is so silent and peaceful.

He nods groggily, his eyes drift as if he's sleepy and it's caught up with him, his head leans forward until his forehead is pressed the night shirt.

"Mhm," it's the only thing he can say in this very moment; his skin is dull with where your fangs have pierced him, but he feels the most alive from it. "Do I- uh-how do I taste?"

It comes out clunky on his tongue, he internally curses himself for not wording that a bit better, but you smile at him to help with his nerves, teeth white against the red and he's gulping nervously.

"Call it corny," you haven't pulled back from him, he's noticed, in fact, you feel warmer now, a normal body temperature, "but you taste sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, very nice." He blinks and he misses it, that you've already cleaning him and yourself up. There's band-aids already on him before his brain catches up with him.

His shoulder feels stiff, but there is an element of thrill that he feels seeping into his veins. He thinks its endorphins, the happy kind that have brought him to feel so content with you being so close to him.

Bob stares at you dazed, as if he's witnessing some phenomena. There seems to be some rejuvenation that has flooded back into you, energy that you have when you drink from your blood bags. He feels a sense of pride that he managed to make you look healthy once more, rather than that sickly-feverish state.

He's starting to stare directly at the dribble of blood down your chin you've missed, and without thought, swipes it gently with a shaking hand.

It catches you off-guard for a second, and you observe him look at the smear on his finger. You can see the cogs turning in his brain, debating whether to take a lick, but he stops himself when he remembers who he's with, wiping it off onto his pant leg.

"That was... pretty nice." He breathes into your space, trying to take as much of you into him. He realised quickly he still has you wrapped in his arms, but you're not making an move away from him.

"Are you going to be able to make it back to your bed?" You ask kindly, tentatively stroking a piece of hair out of his eye. Bob thinks he's happy like this if he fell asleep like this, but he dejectedly nods. "I'll be okay."

It takes a bit to pry himself off you, to allow you to move around him and tidy, glancing back to him occasionally to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep at the kitchen counter. Bob has a giddiness to him now, this unspoken feeling that only you two have shared, and he wishes desperately for more.

He groans when he feels you soft fingers touching him back to consciousness. He's unsure when he fell into it and when he came back round, but as he stands himself up, the words come tumbling out from his dry mouth.

"So-Same thing again?"

"Oh, I don't know if that's right," you say, watching the light that is present in his eyes dies a little. He seems to be a bit down that he's been turned down; it's often that the two of you share time together, reading and sharing book recommendations, but this... this was a far more intimate albeit brief moment he doesn't think he'll ever have again with you.

It's you who brings him back, reaching out first, touching him, a care you have in your eyes that he feels so much that he thinks you're some otherworldly beauty.

"If we did do this again... we'd have to be discreet..." The thought of being caught is both a thrilling yet nightmarish concept; imagining anyone seeing you feeding off your crush. What ideas would they have in their head?

"I can be discreet." He's nodding, and the image of an energetic puppy fills your mind. You smile at that, and you nod yourself. "Okay, I just-don't want to overwhelm you. It's quite a lot, I get it."

Bob wants to interject, to tell you that it's the most exhilarated he's felt in some time, ever since he got the serum, but he stops himself, reassures you by hugging you tightly. He's gotten a taste of you being close, skin on skin, and now, he's addicted to it, yearns for more.

"I'll do anything to make you happy." He whispers, and your heart clenches at his words. He's too good and pure and lovely for you to need to tell yourself that he would never like you in the same way you do for him.

"Thank you, Bob." You whisper back, a temporary promise to be sealed.

[dellieghtful]

LADS: Game Night! Uno Edition

🍓 A/N: I'm glad you guys enjoyed my last work abt the guys being stuck under one roof. I'm super happy it got a lot of good feedback which is why I'm working on making more humor/fluff content! bc i really think we need more of that for comfort reasons lol I hope you'll like this one ;3

p.s: also was written based on my free-will, not proof-read as well :p it's a rushed work ;3

SYNOPSIS: Ever thought about them and how'd they'd play uno?

📍Characters: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, and Caleb (separate but they'll pop-up from time to time in each other's portions ;p) Looking to get notified? Tag yourself here!

It was game night at your place and of course it was mandatory for everyone bring in their own gameboards. What fun would game night be with just one choice of game?

"Tonight's game is," you start, shaking the see-through fishbowl before picking out a piece of paper to reveal the first game of the night: "Uno!"

From the background, you could hear Caleb and Xavier yelling out a cheer.

"So, let's start?"

XAVIER

Knows how the game is played and is actually pretty good with the game of chance.

For unfortunate reasons he falls asleep mid-game which gives you and the others a chance to get a sneek of his deck of cards

"Quick, he's asleep! Check the cards!" Caleb quietly yells on the otherside of the table as you and Rafayel take a peek of his cards. "He's got, green, two greens, and four blues, and a red card". You respond, raising your hand to show off the numbers indicated on each of the colored cards.

"And you'd never think one of Linkon's best hunters would cheat on an honest game of chance." Sylus said without looking away from his cards. Out of the six of you, Sylus and Zayne chose to sit on the couch while the rest sat around the table on the floor.

"You should know better than to cheat." Zayne added, taking a short sip from his cup of tea before carefully placing it on table and resuming focus on his deck of cards.

"As if any of you play honest during Kitty Cards." You pointed out, giving both of the men your meanest side-eye to which both of them had the nerve to avert your careful gaze.

Xavier is actually good with card games?? Much to everyone's surprise, he actually wins MOST of the matches (a literal back-to-back champ lol)

Cons: Caleb always beats him when yelling out "uno" because as far as "yelling" goes, Xavier can only hold a whisper.

"Uno." Xavier says, attempting to raise his left arm to carefully place the remaining card he held in his hand on the pile in the middle. But, unfortunately, because he said it too low for anyone to hear, Caleb took the opportunity to scream at the top of his lungs: "Uno!" and slammed the card on the pile.

"Take about fear of losing," Rafayel comments in a voice too low enough to be heard but not low enough for Caleb to not pick up. "Hey, I heard that!"

ZAYNE

Super chill throughout the entire night and suprisingly knows the in's-and-out's of the game.

"Wow! You're actually pretty good at this Zayne." You commented, your gaze focused on your deck as you skimmed through your cards in search for a green, before placing it neatly ontop of the other cards.

"Of course, being a doctor grants me the fun of engaging with my patients on the clock. Both, children and adults, I mean. Board games help pass the time and in some sense, builds self-confidence in one's skills and way of thinking".

"You must've let them win all the time." You said, as you throw a teasing smile and a slight poke to his leg with your finger which earned a small smile from Zayne before he lifts his gaze away from the cards and looks over at Caleb, who sat across the table.

"Who ever said mercy was ever part of my job description?"

Then Zayne, with all the grace and calmness, places a card on the deck and you could hear Caleb yell out a curse in the background. "Screw you, Zayne!"

Mostly focuses on eating the sweets you've prepared on the table instead of focusing on the deck of cards.

Can be easily bribed with the right treat

"I'll give you my plate of macaroons and this sweet bag of banana muffins with chocolate chips, ozzing with creamy chocolate filling". Rafayel says as he opens a bag of mini muffins, showing all six pieces of sweets, neatly packed inside the bag.

Trully a tempting offer indeed, one that Zayne could not deny despite all those grueling years in training to become a well-disciplined and leve-headed medical practitioner, he could never say no to sweets.

Taking in a deep breathe he carefully takes out a card and hands it over to the man sitting right infront of him, to which both exchanged goods. Rafayel receiving a pair of multi-colored uno cards to use at his advantage later in the game and Zayne, with his even-numbered macaroons & muffins.

"To think, a doctor would risk morality in a game of chance over a plate of treats". Sylus said, letting out a click of his tongue once or twice, expecting more from Zayne's better judgement.

"If it puts food in my stomach and sweet to taste, it's worth the risk".

"But you didn't even bother trading with me?" Caleb asked, raising a brow as he glances across the table to meet zayne eye-to-eye.

"Because carrots don't count". Then Zayne places a card that skips Caleb's chance in taking his turn.

RAFAYEL

He fumbles so bad in the game.

"And, here we go!" You cheer as you slap a +4 card on the pile, oh how unlucky the next person would be having to add another stack of cards to their own growing pile.

"A little more and you could dress up as a peacock with the deck of cards your holding". Xavier teases at Rafayel, who's currently handling about 20 cards plus an additional four to his already growing stack.

"This is just a warm-up, just you wait. I'll be bringing home the winning trophy tonight."

He in-fact did not bring any wins that night, just about 25 loses after 3 hours of trying.

For some reason, his turn either gets skipped or he has a full set of cards added to his own deck.

Tried to actually trade with Sylus but ended up getting an unlucky deck of cards.

"For a man who's feared in and out of the N109 Zone, your deck of cards aren't really instigating any fear from me".

"Oh believe me, it will." Then Sylus pulls out his ultimate weapon: a +4 card.

"Fuck my life."

SYLUS

For a game that involves bargaining (for his version of the game at least lol) and chance, you'd think the leader of the notorious group would actually bag the wins but no.

"Kitten," Sylus starts off, staring at your direction hoping you'd give him the gentle mercy of not pulling what he thinks you're about to throw onto the pile.

Deadass you stare straight into his glowing red orbs with all the courage you could muster: "No." Then slam the skip card on the deck.

"You should've called it quits when you had the chance". Zayne commented, who was now sitting near the kitchen isle with his own winning treats after beating Rafayel again.

He does get back at you though after a little while, making sure it would be your turn getting all the plus cards on your deck.

He gets to call in "Uno" once or twice throughout the night, not even with all the talent and skill that Sylus would've thought he had mastered in winning and negotiation would pale in comparison to Xavier's skill in the game.

He does in fact quit the game after the 12th round saying he needs to stretch out his legs but in reality is sitting in the other side of the room and looking up for ways he could actually win in the game without cheating or creating a crime scene.

CALEB

Hands down, he cheated in the game for about twice, using the full-length mirror he strategically placed near the couch and moving it with his evol from time to time to get a view of not just yours but everyone else's deck of cards. No remorse, no guilt.

Tries to smooth-talk you into giving up the good cards for his bad ones that he unfortunately, picked out himself.

Gets super competitive after losing the first 20 rounds. You offered to get everyone a drink while it wasn't your turn to give out a card yet. Besides, it was only you, Xavier and Caleb who were left playing the game.

"No. No one sleeps, eats or drinks not until we finish the game."

"But, we've already played more than 20 of this." You whined, already wanting to grab some snacks and refreshments before moving on to the next round of the game.

"The game doesn't end until I beat this guy," Caleb says, pointing over at Xavier who was half passed out with only three cards left in his hand. "The game ends when I win."

And so he did, after another 10 rounds of playing, he actually won once. Just once for a full hour worth of gloating.

Although game night came to an end, Caleb's the only one showing up to your door step at ungodly hours (also because of his not-so regular work schedule) to play uno.

You could hear your phone buzzing for the 10th time tonight, you weren't sure if it's a call or a text but you were sure it was Caleb asking you to play with him again.

With no choice, you groan in agony and rise from your already-comfortable sleeping position to pick up and answer the still-ringing phone.

"For the love of God and this goddamn city, the answer is no". And you quickly end the call and go back to sleep, peacefully going back into your dream state.

While you were peacefully sleeping, Xavier was the unfortunate next victim of the Colonel, showing up at his apartment at 1:12AM to play Uno cards because aparently losing 20 rounds against Xavier did not sit well with Caleb.

"Why are we doing this?" Xavier asked, rubbing his eyes as he and Caleb sat on his kitchen table chairs with cards in each of their hands.

"Because I said so".

"Dude, you need to get more friends in your socual circle".

Caleb laughs. "Hell no." Then pulls out a +4 out from his deck.

˚₊·check out my other works here—̳͟͞͞♡

[m4iya]

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Matcha green tea, 100% sugar, 100% ice with black pearls and coconut jelly for @frosted-flakes!

Collab? Kenma Kozume (fluff, post high school, mutual pining + forced proximity)

Your phone had been blowing up with notifications all day since last nights stream. Who knew your viewers would get so heated over a couple jokes? Heck, was it even your viewers? It seemed more like the ones that were freaking out weren’t actually watching for the full context.

Well, that’s what you said every time. It kept them watching, right?

Though, being tagged in rants and comments wasn’t the only thing happening this time. You were receiving an absurd amount of messages from viewers as per usual, but also from other streamers and influencers. The most common words present within all of them being:

“Guess who mentioned you in their stream last night!”

This time, it felt a little different from other controversies you’d been wrapped up in, so you couldn’t help wonder who this mystery person was, and what you had done to earn yourself a mention.

One scroll on your timeline told you just about everything you needed to know. A post sat at the top of your feed; a video captioned “@/mc of all people?’

Clicking on it, a clip of someone’s stream began to play; a QnA of sorts.

“Kodzuken, will we be getting a collab with anyone soon? Can you drop any names?” The streamer read aloud before pausing to think.

“Hmm.. there’s a few things in the works, but I don’t know for sure when they’ll be out.” He replied, absentmindedly flicking through the questions on another monitor.

He paused for a few seconds before continuing to speak. “I’m not the best at reaching out to people, but I’d like to see what kind of content I could make with @/mc. She’s pretty funny.”

Proceeding to continue with other questions, he completely ignored the way the comments blew up at him.

Out of every streamer you knew, he had to be the absolute last person you’d have expected to even have any idea of who you were. You'd been watching his content for a while, having seen him at influencer events and such. Though, you'd never been able to approach him at any of them, often using 'I was talking to my viewers, that's why I couldn't approach him' as an excuse to yourself.

Even though it wasn't exactly your objective as an online personality, you figured that controversies and out of pocket statements would be one way to get his peoples attention. It wasn't like you were exaggerating your personality per se, you were always pretty outspoken, so the only extra steps would be recording or streaming your antics.

Even though it looked like it worked, you had no clue where to go from here. Would you send him an email? Or a message? And what would you even collaborate on? What would happen to his view count if he did make content with you?

You tapped onto his profile on Twitter, scrolling through his recent posts as you wondered what to do. Suddenly, a notification popped up on the top of your screen: A message request.. From him!

Kodzuken hey, this is @/mc, right?

You had a pretty large following, and he had mentioned your name in his stream. Staring at the message for a few seconds, you wondered if he was trying to be funny.

MC u really aren't the best at reaching out to people lol and yeah thats me

Your messages maintained an air of nonchalance, hiding the way your eyes were peeled—waiting for his next response, your heart thumping loud enough for it to reverberate through your ears.

Kodzuken thats a little mean anyways i'm assuming you saw my stream in that case so how does a collab sound?

MC I'm not too busy tbh I should be free next week. u sure u wanna collab with me? ur viewers will probably freak out over it

Kodzuken my channel not theirs 🙄 what do you wanna do for the stream?

MC something simple maybe some type of challenge? are u free to call so we can set it up?

Kodzuken give me a sec ill call you

Your hands shook in place, palms sweaty as you waited for him to call you first.

When your phone eventually rang, you let it sound for a few seconds, clearing your throat. Answering the call, you held the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" He spoke first, his voice being exactly how it sounded on stream.

"Hey!" You internally sobbed over how that might've sounded.

And so the conversation began to flow, the two of you brainstorming ideas and details about the collab. It would be held on his channel, with you editing the stream into a video for your own channel. Before the two of you hung up, he asked for your number so he could send over his address. You wondered why he couldn't just send it over DMs, but your heart was already racing too fast for you to even bother asking.

You got to work immediately, organising your schedule and allocating time to buy the things you needed. He said he had most of the basic things already, but to make things funnier, you suggested a couple ingredients that you'd buy yourself. The idea was to hold a cake baking challenge with odd ingredients. Without telling each other what flavours you were using, you needed to decorate as nicely as you could, and you'd taste each other’s dessert at the end. One of you will guess incorrectly, and the penalty will be to post something on the other's social media account after the stream.

You both agreed not to do anything rash, but also not to plan or rehearse the ending too much. It had a mix of the chaos that was usually in your content, and the viewer interaction that he'd implement in his own. Preparing things behind the scenes, you both kept each other updated until the day arrived, and you nervously made your way to his place.

Standing in front of his home, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door. You heard the shuffling of slippers from the other side, stopping abruptly at the front door.

"Who is it..?" A voice groaned from the other side.

"Um.. me?" You nervously answered.

A faint gasp sounded from the other side before a flurry of steps took off, leaving you wondering what just happened. Could it be that he forgot that you were coming over today?

He returned around a minute later, opening the door immediately. You noted how crinkled his clothes looked, his voice as though he'd just woken up. The skin of his face was dewy—freshly splashed with water, the evidence visible on the hoodie he wore. It wasn't the one he usually had on in his streams.

"Sorry about that." He muttered, attempting a chuckle. His laughter definitely didn't come off as nonchalant, not with his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

Though, you definitely weren’t feeling too confident yourself. Your hands were clammy as you bent over to pick up the bags that you brought with you which contained the things you'd both be using in the stream.

"I'll help." He quickly offered, taking the things in his own hands with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Butterflies. Your stomach churned in a way that it hadn't done since high school.

Following him inside, you realised how big his home was, surprised that he seemed to live alone. As you walked to his kitchen, he gave you a haphazard tour, which was limited to the rooms you both passed. He steered you away from the direction of his own room, telling you that it was 'just a little messy right now.' Looks like he really was asleep.

Once you reached the kitchen, it surprised you to see his camera and tripod already prepared. He placed the bags down on the counter, walking towards his setup.

"Should I set up my stuff as well?" You asked as you pulled it out of one of the bags, having brought it just in case.

"It's fine, I'll send you the footage." He replied.

With that, you prepared the materials you'd both be using. He provided the bowls, spoons and mixing tools. You handed him an apron and wore your own, giggling at how he struggled to wear it despite it being so simple. You offered to tie it for him and he did the same, even though you were more than able to do so yourself. You lifted your arms as he took the fabric around your waist to tie it, gently weaving one piece over the other.

"Is that too tight?" He asked. "Want me to loosen it?"

"Yeah, just a little."

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as he spoke from behind, helping you with this short, mundane task. Things were all over the place today, and you weren't sure how you'd get yourself under control.

The two of you went through a few more things, and soon began the stream. You greeted the viewers, and introduced yourself to those who didn’t know you.

And so the stream went on, unfolding much more differently than you had initially expected. It seemed that the people who were criticising you had either stuck around to see what would happen, or had simply left.

You cracked jokes with each other while mixing your ingredients, using the mystery flavours that you had poured into separate bottles last night—so tired that you could barely remember what was in them.

At the end, you both decorated the cakes together in an attempt to make them as appealing as they could be. Yours was coated in red frosting, and you used white buttercream in a thin piping tip to write out his name in cursive on the surface of the cake. His was haphazardly covered in pink frosting, purple polka dots shaped from fondant scattered over the surface and the sides. He had decorated the edges with sugar pearls and rainbow sprinkles, running out of time before being able to write your name on it.

Cutting each other a slice, you both took turns tasting it. You could barely contain your laughter as he cut into his—the centre was so moist that the knife he used was coated in batter as he removed it from the cake. You opted to eat a piece of the edges instead.

Exaggerating your reaction, you coughed, walking off camera to grab a drink of water. The ingredient he had used was chilli, and it wasn't settling well with you at all. His laughter echoed through the room as you drank from the cup of water; probably because of the slightly exaggerated reaction that you had rehearsed with him before the stream in the case that he happened to choose something spicy.

As he took a bite of your slice of cake after you had returned to the stream, his face contorted; confusion? He chewed once, then paused, scrunched his eyebrows, and continued chewing.

"Is that—" He coughed. "Is that coffee?"

You could barely contain your laughter at his reaction. Well, he wasn't completely off. It was coffee, alongside a couple different spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and.. well, you lost count after the first two.

"Not exactly! Wanna try again?"

He held his nose bridge, 'deep in thought'. You both knew that one of you needed to get it wrong to go through with the penalty. A few obviously wrong guesses later, it was decided that he'd be the loser. After talking to the chat a little, answering some questions and interacting, it was revealed to them that you'd soon upload a video on your channel, which would contain extra content, and that the penalty post would also be up on his account. With that, he concluded the stream, slouching over the table with a sigh as you took a seat on one of the tall stools, picking at the cake he had made.

"At least the frosting tastes good." You laughed, taking a spoon of it.

"Yours wasn't actually too bad," He muttered. "Just.. very flavourful."

The situation suddenly set in; it was now nighttime, and your belongings were scattered everywhere. How were you supposed to just pack up and leave? That same feeling from earlier was now completely overwhelming you as you felt your face warm up. What exactly was going on? Keeping your eyes on the slice of cake, your face began to heat up. In your peripheral, you noticed his head turn.

"You okay?"

“Just a little tired,” You smiled, avoiding his gaze. “I should probably get leaving soon." Reaching behind your back, you fiddled with the knot in an attempt to untie it. The quicker you could pack up, the quicker you'd be out of this mess.

Though, even the apron wouldn’t budge at all no matter how hard you tried to undo it.

"Did you superglue this or something?” You chuckled, exasperated. “It’s so tight!”

"Oh,” His head perked up. “I loosened the first tie, but I double knotted it just in case." He stepped towards you, offering to fix it yet again.

"All done." His hands reached over to the collar, lifting it over your head to which you pulled it down, folding the apron in your lap.

"Guess I'll do yours as well?"

You stood from the chair as he turned his back to face you. This was definitely something he could've done himself. Though as you fiddled with the fabric—in the deafening silence of the room, the way his breath suddenly hitched became overly apparent.

At this point you honestly couldn’t tell whether it was yours or his who’s breathing you were hearing. Your eyes scattered as undoing the fabric of the apron was the last thing you were thinking about right now. It was a little late to be realising this, but he was much taller up close than he seemed online, and given the way the apron wrapped snugly around his body—he was also a little thinner than you imagined. Not to mention the stray hairs at the nape of his neck that had escaped from the bun he’d made.

“..Are you done?”

Shoot. Who knew how long you were standing there with your gaze scattering everywhere? You quickly untied the knot with a single swipe, and he lifted the collar over his head, handing it to you. As you reached out to take it, you noticed how tightly he held it, seemingly not wanting to let go. It did seem a little out character for him to be so forward—having been the one that initially reached out to you first, inviting you over and being completely unlike how you initially perceived him. Not that you had thought he was mean, he just didn’t seem like the type to be so outgoing.

Or maybe it was motivated by something. Maybe the small patches of plush pink painting his cheeks, the way his lips were slightly parted so as to prepare himself to speak, his gaze focused on you for the first time today—maybe things were a little different for him as well. You for one knew yourself, being well aware of what you’d been going through today.

“..Do you have something to say?” You prodded, teasing although your voice was small, shaky, and laced with nerves. You definitely weren’t in any place to be picking on him.

He cleared his throat, gaze leaving yours once more. “..Do you have plans tomorrow?” Your eyes fluttered to his slender hands, their grip loosening as he spoke.

“No,” You replied. “I had nothing planned for this week other than—well, this.” Taking the apron from his hands, you set it on the counter. His hand moved to brush a loose strand of hair out of his face, “Do you live far?”

“A little.” Your car was parked outside, but you weren’t the biggest fan of driving at night, and alone as well? Not happening—not unless it had to. “But I drove here, so i’ll just-”

“You can stay the night.” He interrupted.

“No, I can’t—really-“

“I have space for another person.”

“I don’t even have a change of clothes!”

“I have spares.”

You were surprised that he’d offer something like that, and double down on it as well. Well, his place was huge; but you didn’t i expect him to go around telling random people they can stay over. Especially when he’s only met them once. He was now stacking the dishes in the sink, yawning as he did so.

You couldn’t help tease again, stepping towards him. “So you actually want me to stay over?”

He clicked his tongue, turning on the water. “And if I do?”

That.. wasn’t what you expected to hear. You couldn’t see his face, but the redness glazing the tips of his ears told you that he’d probably been going through the same things as you all day. Well, it was more than just today for you; and you wondered the same for him.

extra:

“Hey, we forgot about the penalty!” You recalled, slipping into one of his spare hoodies.

He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair as he scrolled through his phone, opening the camera. “Sit over there.”

“Here?” You took the seat on a chair in front of his setup, crossing your legs. The two of you giggled as you set up the photo, with him directing you to wear his headphones.

You took the photo of yourself, throwing up a peace sign, and captioned the post ‘get used to this face, ur gonna be seeing it a lot more’.

Watching the replies immediately come rushing in, you laughed together. It definitely wouldn’t be the last time you’d both record something together.

from my 100 followers event ✩ other works

[bokettochild]

What are some head-canons that you love but haven’t been able to fit into your writing?

I mean, as a general rule, I've been able to work in most of my HCs into one fic or another, even if only as a brief nod, and when that doesn't happen, I usually have a way to post it here under #ketto's brainfarts

That said, I do have a couple!

Twilight is a tea guy. Not sweet tea, surprisingly, he actually really dislikes it (much to Illia's disappointment) but that man 100% will curl up with tea and one of his many, many books at the base of his tree. He also probably reads to Epona

After Din saved Legend from the brink f death using her magic, he's got a small quantity of her magic mixed in with his own, so even though he already had a green thumb, now almost anything he touches and tends will grow stronger, healthier, and more bountifully. It's kinda funny how much the other orchardists in the area are annoyed by this. Reasonably speaking, he's got one of the smallest orchards in the kingdom, but it's always more bountiful and better quality than anywhere else, and they can't figure out why. Like, this kid is barely home and rarely has time to tend the trees, why are they doing so well? Meanwhile Legend just has to exist near them and they're doing better because Din's magic is just... better than fertilizer or sun to most plants.

Hyrule hates tea (sorry, I'm drinking smth if you can't tell). It's leaf water to him and he'll only take it medicinally

Rather than fumble for things like an idiot because he has no depth perception, Time makes a habit of never looking at anything he's reaching for, that way he just looks distracted rather than like he's having trouble seeing. His aim with a bow is also not the greatest. he's learned a to compensate for his lack of vision in various ways, enough to function, but it still very much effects him

The FD eye literally lets him see magic and magical entities that otherwise are invisible. It flows in different colors and if he actually opened that eye more, he could probably tell you a lot about the world and the people in it, and their magics, but it gives him a headache when he does, since the intake is more than a mortal brain is meant to handle, so he rarely uses it

Hyrule, being the child of a great fairy, has hundreds of sisters, all of them older than him. He's not close with any of them, since he's very different from them and they all were mostly grown by the time he was able to remember them, but he's still their baby brother

Fairies age considerably slower than Hylians, enough so that you have to be a hundred at least to be "grown up" in their minds, although they're aware hylians and most other beings don't function that way. Still, age confuses them a lot

I'm on a fairy kick, so I'm gonna mention that Warriors is unaware of this, but he's become, in a way, the great fairy to the fairy corps. Fairy culture is similar to how bees exist, with Great Fairies as the Queen Bee who generally is responsible for the hive as a whole (or fountain in this case). Most Great Faries are responsible for ensuring the health, safety, and general happiness of the fairies in their care, and because Warriors stepped up to do the same thing for all the fairies he and his crew rescued, fairies who had no Great Fairy any long, he's become sort of a foster fairy for them, but without the magic. They don't care really, and they all adore him. Warriors is oblivious to this, naturally.

That's all I got for now, I gotta scoot to church and I'm not even dressed LOL

[splishsplashgash]

My Lawrence Oleander headcanons

-he dumpster dives behind gardening and floral shops sometimes.

-Lawrence either eats like he's at 5 star restaurant or like a feral racoon in the trash.

-Lawrence actually deeply cares for his sisters he just doesn't know how to express it.

-His first pet was a fish,he'd sit for hours watching it in the family living room.

-Lawrence developed his plant obsession because his father would often garden,after his parents found out about his hobby with dead animals his father started teaching him about plants in hope that it'd give him a different hobby.

-Lawrence has to listen to either white noise or nature sounds to go to sleep

-Lawrence only showers once a week,and when he does it's an everything shower,aka shave,wash hair,body,etc.

-Lawrence is a rainbow baby,his parents calling him a miracle but once he got older his mother would murmur when he walked past that he was a curse instead

-Lawrence would clean the house when his family left hoping that they'd see him in a different light but they'd come home and say nothing,ignore him.

-Lawrence as a kid didn't eat his boogers like other kids he'd eat and pick at his scabs instead (me too Lawrence me too.)

-Lawrence was designated babysitter when ever his parents would leave for dates or other things.

-Lawrence hated school,we all know that, but I believe that Lawrence's teachers probably loved him,that they would call him sweet and hardworking.

-Lawrence likes routine and when his routines are messed up it angers him

- (Okay this one is more jokingly but...) He uses MC's piss to pass his works drug tests.

-He buys those essential oils that those old white ladies promote saying it will cure everything and all that junk

-He doesn't know much about technology,yeah he'd search stuff up on the family computer and on his phone but besides that he doesn't really know much.

-avid nail biter

-lived off Arizona Green Tea as a teenager

-Let his sisters braid and play with his hair when they were younger

-When he got his hair cut as a kid by his mom he'd cry everytime to the point she gave up on cutting it anymore

That's all I can remember right now I'm sure I have more though lol.