#the stickers are nice and sparkly

[finnzcorner]

Some merch I have that's arrived! The bag, pin, and stickers are from @kihorri and the stand is by Xmaruu and Kitsunei (DDVAU Creators)

[stick-by-me]

Gorgeous!

Plus the "I Think this one is vintage" version!

[edenfire]

🎉🎂 happy birthday, rin 🎂 🎉

I was watching my rintori amv playlist, and I got nostalgic for my boys🥺💗💞 just in time for rin's bday~☆

(I might finish this, and make it into a charm or a sticker if you guys let me know you're interested🌸)

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

can we get butchfemme sevika/reader hcs please :3

GAWD yes. Lord, I've been waiting for this day lessgo

ButchFemme Sevika/Reader Headcanons

⚢ In typical butch fashion, her love language is acts of service

⚢ Loves to be fawned over ! Like “Omfg babe you’re sooo strong helping me put together furniture” and trust she is melting even though her face is expressionless and immoveable

⚢ She likes when you graze your long nails over her skin for back scratches and its all nice and light and tingly

⚢ She’s not much of a prettyboy (prettybutch…?) so she doesn’t really have a skincare routine but you have an extensive regimen so she memorizes all ur million little bougie products and gets you an extra to keep at ur place so you don’t have to eff up your skincare routine in favor of spontaneous sleepovers

⚢ Yeah she’s not too particular about her grooming in general. She lets you cut her hair even if you’re not super experienced with clippers. She still hypes you up even if you nick her ear when doing up her side shave/undercut.

“Oops! Sorry babe I think I got your ear…”

“Didn’t even feel it. You’re doing great baby keep going.”

⚢ On that note, pet names: For Sevika, its baby alll dayyyyyy ! She calls you baby, my girl, my pretty girl, my woman, etc. And as for what you call her, she always loves a “omg babe” moment. And “settle down there, cowboy” but in like a jesting sorta way. Also: “my butch.”

⚢ Stone top/pillow princess anybody?

⚢ Also: she’s ur cash cow. She loves buying you expensive shit and showing you off and showing off the expensive shit. You breathed in the direction of a particularly nice perfume? Surprise! It’s in your bathroom the following day. Like. It’s a theme. Especially in ur pre-relationship courting era. “Baby anything you want I get for you. Say the word I’ll buy for you the moon, the stars, et cetera, no one can provide for you like I can” blah blah blah

⚢ But you can’t be interrupting her card games tho. She’s like a teenage boy on the xbox with those things. Probs something to be worried about tbh.

⚢ And I’ve written this into a fanfic already, but that bitch wears boyshorts. I was thinking boxers for a while but I think that would be too much bulk over them skinny little plants she wears. I am a Sevika boyshorts TRUTHER

⚢ And she works out. Matter of fact, forget the prettybutch comment because Sevika WORKS OUTTT and I think she has resistance bands. Like she goes to an actual gym but around the house you’ll find her repping with those damn resistance bands to relieve stress or just cause she sees them and remembers.

⚢ And she works out to like. Classical music. Cause she’s a classy mothafuckaaa just absolutely getting ripped and her face is in a scary ass sneer but there's like ode to joy in the background

⚢ You pack her lunch. She gets flamed at work cause her paper bag is covered in lil hearts and stickers and kissy lipstick marks and its filled with sugary baked goods like pink sparkly cupcakes and fruity pastries cause u can’t cook. But by gawd u can bake.

⚢ That being said, she’s the cook in the relationship. Especially when it comes to meat. It’s problematic. Sevika’s version of “girl dinner” is straight up protein. Her typical meal is like. A rotisserie chicken + hard boiled eggs. It made you gasp the first time you saw her pull out one of her meal prep tins and it was just that.

⚢ Oh yeah and she meal preps

⚢ Claims she “doesn’t get sick” because her “immune system is just built different.”

⚢ When she does get sick, she refuses to chill out and let herself be sick and she tries to speedrun her way to health by taking too much vitamin C and then working out and cranking the heat to “sweat it out quicker.”

⚢ She knits to relieve stress

⚢ Sleeps topless and in undies. And a wife pleaser tank if its chilly.

[sttoru]

‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’

☀︎｜tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!

giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.

your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.

satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.

“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.

but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.

“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.

satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.

the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.

this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.

“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.

everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.

"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.

your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”

a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;

"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.

the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.

you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;

"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.

one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.

"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."

you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.

they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.

satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.

"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.

the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.

you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.

satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.

[riddlesrizzler]

Your Favorite Streamer’s Favorite Simp

summary: Mattheo Riddle, incel king of the gaming underworld, had become a blushing, obsessed little simp. characters: gamer! mattheo. gamer girl! reader warnings: just matty being gross and pathetic word count: 1.1k

Mattheo Riddle existed in darkness.

Not metaphorical darkness-no, literal, suffocating, LED-lit gloom. His blackout curtains hadn’t been pulled open in at least six months, and his window had a suspicious fogginess to it, like even the glass was sick of him. He lived hunched over in a high-backed gaming chair with a shredded headrest and crumbs permanently embedded in the seat. His desk was sticky in places he refused to investigate, and his keyboard was missing the F key. He hadn’t needed it anyway.

Shirtless. Always. His hair was in a state of constant frizz and flop, pushed back by a sweat-stained headset that lived on his head like a parasite. His grey sweatpants hung off his hips, loose and threatening to fall, but somehow clinging on for dear life-like the rest of his will to exist.

He didn’t talk to people. He screamed at them. Through his mic. On Discord. In all caps.

And he was perfectly content in his swampy little goblin lair-until he clicked on her.

It was an accident. Some algorithm mistake. He’d been rage-scrolling through streams while waiting for his cursed modded Skyrim to finish patching. Most of what he saw made his eyes roll so hard they practically detached-people faking their rage, faking their laughs, faking their personalities.

And then-

Pink.

So much pink.

Her thumbnail was like getting hit in the face with a strawberry cupcake. A girl in a sweater two sizes too big, cheeks squished against a plushie, her headphones adorned with sparkly Sanrio stickers and little pastel charms. Her eyes were wide and full of that anime sparkle, and her stream title?

“soft cozy chaos | come play ✧˖° ☁︎˖°”

He clicked on it ironically. He told himself it was ironic.

And then her voice hit.

“Hiii sweet beans! I hope you’re having the softest little day ever~!!”

Mattheo froze.

She was playing some goofy game he’d mocked relentlessly before-one with bouncy colors and squeaky sound effects. And she sucked at it. She couldn’t aim for shit. She kept falling off ledges and apologizing to her character like it was a real person.

“Oh nooo, I didn’t mean to! I promise I’ll do better this time, you precious thing, I swear-”

He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. He was slack-jawed, staring, heart slowly crawling up into his throat.

What… what was this?

She giggled. Like an actual giggle. High-pitched. Unfiltered. The kind of laugh people tried to fake but she just… did it.

Mattheo felt like he’d been physically slapped with glitter.

He stared at her chat. It was full of usernames with emojis in them. People calling her “angel” and “bunbun” and “gamer fairy queen.”

He looked down at himself.

A half-naked, sweaty, with Cheeto dust under his nails.

Pathetic.

He donated before he could stop himself. Five bucks. Anonymous. He just wanted to see what her alert looked like.

A rain of hearts and twinkles fell across the screen.

Her eyes lit up.

“Anonymous?? Thank you so soooo much! That was super kind of you!” She hugged her plushie and held it to her cheek. “I hope something really nice happens to you today. Like… maybe your favorite song plays when you need it most.”

He made the ugliest noise. Like a dying animal. It just escaped him.

Mattheo scrambled. He made an account. A new one. MattheoRiddle88. (He’d used the name before, but this time it felt like he had something to prove.)

He sent another donation. Ten bucks.

She said his username. She said it sweetly.

“MattheoRiddle88! That’s such a cool name-thank you, thank you!” She did a little hand wiggle dance. “You guys are spoiling me tonight! I’m gonna cry fr!!”

FR. She said fr.

He clutched his chest.

He watched the entire stream. All four hours. He ignored his friends’ pings, ignored the game he’d been meaning to finish. He watched her get excited over a new keychain, talk to her chat like they were her childhood friends, and sing quietly off-key while she waited in a loading screen.

When she ended stream with a sleepy, “Goodnight, my sweet beans… I hope you sleep like a marshmallow cloud,” he whispered, out loud, alone in his room:

“You too.”

And then panicked because he said it like she could hear him.

The next night, he was there again. This time with snacks and a blanket. (He told himself it wasn’t a thing. It wasn’t. He just happened to have time.) He donated every stream. Just small things. And she remembered his name. Started calling him “Matty.”

He hadn’t been called a nickname in years.

Now? She said it at least once a night.

He changed his whole schedule for her stream. Reorganized his Discord sessions. Started combing his hair before his monitor turned on. Started buying pink snacks. Once, he even watched a Sanrio lore video to understand why she kept talking about a bunny named My Melody.

Mattheo Riddle, incel king of the gaming underworld, had become a blushing, obsessed little simp.

He was deep in it.

And if anyone tried to talk shit about her? He was already typing, already defending her in chat like his life depended on it.

She didn’t know him. Not really. Not yet.

But Mattheo knew her.

And he’d die before he missed another stream.

[chefs-other-corner]

Whore Means...Not A Good Person

☆Paring: Rumi x MIra x Zoey

 ☆Tags: fluff, yeah just pure fluff really, kids? idk man

 ☆Sum Sum: Rumi has a event with kids, and kids be saying anything

 ☆Word count: 738 ☆Note:  I forgot about this fic in my doc lol ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was a sunny afternoon, and Rumi was not fighting demons.

Instead, she was sitting criss-cross applesauce on a brightly-colored carpet surrounded by twelve toddlers, each wobbling in various stages of juice box-fueled chaos. She was here for the preschool’s charity party—smiles, photos, and free cupcakes, all in the name of good PR. She didn’t mind though. The demon-hunting could wait a day.

“Okay, kids,” the teacher said, clapping her hands before ducking out to refill the snack table, “Be nice to Miss Rumi, okay?”

The toddlers immediately swarmed her like the world's cutest horde.

“Hi, Miss Woomy!” one boy chirped, getting her name completely wrong and shoving a glittery dinosaur sticker onto her knee. “This is Clawboy and he eats people, but only bad ones.”

“Cool,” Rumi nodded solemnly. “That’s good. We only eat bad people.”

Another girl flopped down beside her with a juice mustache and said, “I like your hair. It looks like cotton candy but my mom says I can’t eat hair anymore.”

Rumi blinked. “I think that’s a good rule.”

And then came her—a little girl with tangled pigtails and a serious expression that didn’t match the glitter star stuck to her cheek.

“I wanna say…” she began, fidgeting with her sparkly pink skirt, “cause you look like my dog.”

Rumi tilted her head, smiling. “Your dog?”

“Yeah!” The girl nodded so hard her whole body wobbled. “And my dog’s name is Pretty because of the flower, and it was yellow. I like yellow. Do you like yellow? My mom never liked yellow. She also didn’t like Daddy. She said he’s a good-for-nothing whore.”

Rumi froze.

The room fell into slow-motion silence. The other toddlers were too busy trying to turn paper towels into capes, but Rumi was just trying so, so hard not to laugh.

Her lips twitched. Her hand shot to her mouth. She cleared her throat and said, “Um. Whore… means not a good person.”

The little girl gasped. “Like when I bite my cousin?”

“Worse,” Rumi said carefully. “But only if your cousin really deserved it.”

“Oh,” the girl nodded thoughtfully, like she’d just learned something very important. “I’m gonna tell my grandma that.”

“Please don’t,” Rumi said with a soft smile.

Another kid popped up in front of her holding a half-eaten cracker. “Can you kill the vacuum? It lives in my house.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“My tummy hurts,” another one announced, “but I ate a crayon and it was the blue kind, so I think I’m okay.”

“Blue is the safest flavor,” Rumi agreed, without missing a beat.

They crawled into her lap, they tugged at her sleeves, and one of them tried to braid her ponytail using a rubber lizard. It was chaos, but warm and silly, and the kind of mess that felt like a vacation from fighting soul-eating demons.

A chubby toddler leaned his entire weight on her arm and asked, “Miss Woomy, are you a princess?”

Rumi paused.

She looked around at their bright eyes and juice-stained smiles, and nodded.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Today I think I am.”

Just outside the playroom, Mira and Zoey were supposed to be helping refill the water cups and supervise painting, but they’d both stopped in the doorway, watching Rumi with identical wide grins.

“She’s a natural,” Mira whispered, sipping a juice box she definitely stole from the snack table.

Zoey snorted. “She looks like she got tackled by a glitter tornado.”

As if on cue, a toddler near Rumi loudly declared, “I peed but it’s a happy pee! Not the bad kind!”

“I take it back,” Zoey said, blinking. “She’s a brave natural.”

Rumi caught sight of them over the toddler crowd and shot them a helpless look, mouth twitching into a barely-contained laugh.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone in here!” she mouthed.

Mira and Zoey exchanged a glance.

“Rock-paper-scissors to see who goes in?” Mira offered.

Zoey cracked her knuckles. “Loser has to sit through story time and pretend to understand toddler logic.”

They played.

Mira lost.

With a resigned sigh and a fond smile, she stepped into the chaos and knelt beside Rumi, who instantly looked relieved.

One toddler pointed at Mira and asked, “Is that your mom?”

Rumi grinned. “No, that’s Mira. She fights demons.”

The toddler nodded solemnly. “Cool. Can she fight my stepdad?”

Zoey, watching from the door, laughed so hard she almost dropped her juice.

[himasgod]

I just saw your embarrassing pictures and stories of the Diasomnia boys and I LOVED it!!!

Would you be able to do Deuce being embarrassed by his mother babbling about how cute her baby boy was with his little rabbit ears, please???

No pressure, and have a nice day!

- 🍰

DEUCE SPADE X READER

Where his mother can't stop babbling to you about her beautiful child

Meeting Deuce's mom was something you’d been quietly nervous about for weeks.

He’d talked about her with so much love, how hard she worked, how much she’d done for him, how she’d stuck with him even when he was a rebellious menace, and it made you want to be on your absolute best behavior.

So when he invited you over during the White Rabbit Fest to spend a few days in Clock Town, you accepted without hesitation.

Dylla Spade turned out to be warm and welcoming the second she opened the door, pulling you into a tight hug and offering you snacks before you’d even taken off your shoes. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the moment she pulled out the photo albums.

Hereyou were, sitting politely on the couch, sipping tea from a mug that read #1 Son, while Deuce sat beside you as stiff as a plank of wood.

“Oh—Mom, no—” Deuce's voice cracked in the back of his throat as he realized what she was reaching for.

She just smiled, pulling a thick leather-bound book off the shelf and settling next to you on the couch.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” she told you with a wink. “You have to see what an adorable little bun he was.”

“A… bun?”

She was already flipping through a photo album, a big sparkly pink one with “DEUCE’S PRECIOUS MOMENTS” bedazzled across the front. You swore you saw a glitter sticker shaped like a baby bottle.

There he was—maybe five years old, grinning wide, two fluffy little rabbit ears sticking straight up from his head, one flopping a bit to the side.

Dressed in a skyblue vest with matching mittens and tiny suspenders, his round cheeks were dimpled from smiling so hard, and he held a small carrot plush in one hand like it was a sword.

“Oh stars—Mom—stop!” Deuce groaned, his face rapidly turning beet red. “Why this one?!”

“Because it’s precious! Look at that face! He used to hop around the house like a baby rabbit, I swear. And those ears—he hated when I touched them, because he was afraid they would come off the headband, but they were so soft. Like velvet!”

You bit your lip, holding back a smile as Deuce buried his face in his hands.

“Mom—seriously—”

“I have one where he’s trying to hide in a laundry basket after drawing on the walls. You could only see the tips of his ears sticking out! I said, ‘Deuce, where are you?’ and those ears just twitched with his head and peeked out like boop boop!—it was adorable!”

You couldn't help it—you burst into a soft laugh. “I didn’t know you loved that rabbit ears when you were little…”

Deuce peeked at you through his fingers, completely mortified.

“You cried when the fest ended,” his mom added with a sigh. “He thought he wasn’t cute anymore without the ears. He looked in the mirror and said, ‘Mom, I’m just a normal boy now, not a bunny!’ I nearly died.”

“MOM!!”

You wheezed into a pillow as Deuce launched off the couch, pacing like he might flee the house entirely.

“I swear, I’m gonna melt into the floor. I’m gonna vanish. Right now. Say goodbye to Deuce Spade because I’m never coming back from this.”

“Are you alright, bunny?” you teased, eyes sparkling.

Deuce covered his ears. “You're not supposed to know that!!”

After she left the room to fetch cookies (and possibly more photos), you kissed the crown of his head and whispered, “I think baby bunny Deuce sounds adorable.”

He peeked up at you with a flushed face and a scowl. “…You’re never gonna let me live this down, huh?”

“Not a chance.”

Dylla came back smiled, with another album. “Ah, here he is trying to eat a whole daikon he pulled out of the garden like a rabbit…”

“NOOOOOO—!”

[littlelamy]

reader gives rafe and his friends a whats in my bag😭😭👛

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request! 🤍

you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch in rafe’s living room, casually flipping through a fashion magazine while rafe, topper, and kelce talk. your oversized tote bag is propped beside you, and the guys begin giving you amused glances.

rafe leans over, nudging your leg lightly. "what's in the bag, princess?" his voice is teasing, but there’s that familiar spark in his eyes.

you blink innocently, flipping your hair over your shoulder. "why? you curious about my makeup routine now?" you giggle, already knowing how this is going to play out.

topper smirks. "careful, rafe. she’s probably got a stash of face masks in there."

you roll your eyes playfully. "oh, please, like you guys couldn’t use a good skincare routine."

kelce laughs. "yeah, right. you’re gonna pull out a face mask next, aren’t you?"

rafe leans back with that cocky grin of his. “let’s see it then. give us the grand tour.”

you tilt your head, batting your lashes at him. "fine, but no judging, okay?"

he raises his hands in mock surrender. "scout’s honor."

you pull the bag into your lap, pulling out your wallet first. “obviously, you know, basic essentials.” you set it aside with a little flourish, making a show of it.

rafe chuckles. "very exciting."

you smirk, digging around some more. “next... lip gloss.” you pull out a sparkly tube and hold it up proudly. “can’t live without it. wanna try?” you toss it over to him, half-joking.

rafe catches it with ease and twists it open, pretending to apply it. “oh yeah, pink shimmer really brings out my eyes, doesn’t it?”

you giggle, reaching over to grab it back. “you wish. this shade is exclusive.”

you continue rummaging, pulling out a small compact mirror. "obviously a must-have," you say, flipping it open to check your reflection. "can’t have a bad hair day around you guys."

topper laughs. "you literally look perfect 24/7. why even bother?"

you wink at him. "because you never know who’s watching."

rafe leans forward, his voice dropping a bit. "who exactly are you trying to impress, huh?"

you shrug, tossing the mirror back in your bag. "maybe someone in this room, maybe not." you give him a playful look, enjoying the way he leans in closer.

next, you pull out a small perfume bottle and spritz it in the air. "a girl’s gotta smell nice," you say with a giggle.

rafe reaches over, catching a whiff. "mmm, smells good. gonna have to steal that."

you roll your eyes dramatically. "yeah, sure, because floral perfume is so you."

kelce nudges topper, laughing. "hey, rafe might be into that vibe."

you laugh along with them, pulling out your phone charger. "okay, now this one’s boring, but essential. gotta keep my phone alive for those late-night calls."

rafe raises an eyebrow. "late-night calls, huh? who are you talking to that late?"

you flash him a cheeky grin. "wouldn’t you like to know?"

then, you pull out your last item—a cute pink journal covered in stickers. you hold it up proudly. “and finally... my journal.”

topper leans over, squinting. “what’s in there? love letters?”

you hug the journal to your chest, feigning shock. "this is very private, thank you. no boys allowed."

rafe chuckles, his voice dropping lower as he leans in close enough to make your heart flutter. "no boys allowed, huh? guess i’ll just have to get an invite."

you smirk, feeling the flirty tension between you two. "maybe... if you’re lucky."

as the conversation shifts back to their jokes, rafe keeps stealing glances your way, and you catch yourself smiling, knowing that this playful game between you two is far from over.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron

[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.6k

In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week. 

Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.” 

There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic. 

Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him. 

“You almost finished, baby?” 

You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”

Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”

You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”

“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”

You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”

“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.” 

When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze. 

“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”

Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality. 

“Thank you,” You batted your lashes. 

Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you. 

When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply. 

Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed. 

Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different. 

He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him. 

Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way. 

He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing. 

Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. 

“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”

Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms.  Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”

“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.

He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”

Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”

You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist. 

“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”

With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless. 

One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”

Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you. 

Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”

You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”

Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.” 

Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”

“Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.

He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

[andythelemon]

✨ PRE-ORDERS NOW OPEN ✨

♥️ Beat of my Heart! ♥️ A Shojo Poster Collection

A nostalgic, sparkly and lovingly-rendered tribute to 32 shojo manga. After 2022’s Jump for the Stars! shonen anthology, we're excited to present its long-awaited counterpart. Every order comes with a shojoke sticker pack!

A5 | 40pg | saddle stitch

Artists: Andy – Jununy – Koi – Myst-A – Jokerita – Bailie – Jimmy – Xenia – Shazleen Khan – Deads – Prince – Vi – Sailor – Jou – Laura – Maobabie – Enorae – Lou-Anne – Sam C. – Amy Matsushita-Beal – Roll – Abi – Mei – Jacqueline Li – Karyn – Maya – April – Nice Day, Bucky! – Kogawa – CJ - Tia

Pre-orders close June 1st. Please contact the store if you have any questions not answered by the listings/FAQ. Thank you for the support! 🌸💖

[rainyhideoutnight]

the new pic of nat’s mugshot has me feral but post crash!butch!natalie scatorccio x housewife!reader

GOD that picture....... i need to be sedated

domestic life with butch nat. pure fluff. part 2.

𐙚 she buys a little apartment for you two with the settlement money. it's not luxurious but rather cozy. she lets you stay home while she goes to work, letting you continue with your studies (if you do so).

𐙚 you, in exchange, try to be the perfect housewife for her, even if she never asked you to.

𐙚 if you weren't a good cook before, you definitely are now. you watch tons of youtube videos and read cookbooks just so you can surprise natalie with something new everyday, and oh boy does she love the food you make.

𐙚 imagine packing her lunch for work <333 you wake up early before her to cook something nice for her, making something different every day. her coworkers look at her a little perplexed when the girl who's so quiet and intimidating at work pulls out a pink lunchbox full of stickers from her bag, along with a note from you. she doesn't care at all, in fact, she's reminded of you all over again. and of course, you cut up her fruit in heart shapes.

𐙚 if she has an important meeting, you learn to tie the tie of her suit just so she doesn't have to. she's looking at you with the goofiest lovesick eyes in the world, as you bite your lip in concentration. after you get it perfect, she cups your cheek with one hand and presses a long kiss on your lips, thanking you before grabbing her bag. oh, and she doesn't leave without smacking your ass playfully just to see you blush.

𐙚 talking about her clothes: you'd never let her leave the house with her clothes wrinkled. you'd iron them for her every night so she can put them on the next morning. "you really don't have to – nobody cares if my clothes are a bit wrinkled" "i care". even if you scold her, she deeply appreciates your concern for her to look neat every day.

𐙚 nat even teaches you how to drive. she's so patient and so loving, praising you with every little step you make, that it isn't a surprise you learn in no time. even when you got frustrated and wanted to quit, she told you that "it's okay, we can try another day". of course, you still prefer to be the passenger princess, but now you can drive yourself to your little activities and meetings with friends when she's out to work. she'd never like to see you relying on her 100%, in fact, she loves to see you being independent.

𐙚 she never, never takes home her frustration from work. she may have some bad days, but she always leaves her problems at work and doesn't take them out on you. her mood brightens up immediately when you open the door for her with a big smile and a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. but if she had a really bad day, you'd run her a bath, then buy some ice cream, put her favorite movie and cuddle on the couch while you both eat. she visibly relaxes after a while, and wraps her arm around your waist, resting her cheek on your shoulder. "thank you, princess. i love you." before pressing a kiss on top of your head.

𐙚 and if she wanted to invite some coworkers over? oh, you're going all out. you make sure the house is sparkly clean, and even make some delicious food for everyone. even if you get extremely tired after, seeing nat happy makes it all worthy (and of course, all her coworkers praise you for the incredible food). the next day when she comes back from work, she gives you a big bouquet of flowers, as a thank you.

𐙚 if you had a kid, she knows exactly what time nat arrives home (she's forever a girl mom in my eyes). she'd be sitting on the porch or on the sidewalk 20 minutes before she gets home, excited to see her mom. but as soon as she sees the car turning the street she runs towards it before nat can pull up home, shouting "mama! mama!" with a big smile on her face. nat has to stop the car half a block away from your house to pick her up in her arms and walk the rest of the way, as she talks her ear off.

a/n. my first request <3 thank u anon i hope u enjoy it!! mwah

[cheeseatlantic]

yuhh one look give em whiplash!!! beat drop with a big flash korean korean korean think fast!!!!

CoD characters as parents!

price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, valeria, keegan, hesh, logan, ajax, kick and könig… 😞

Price would be a very nice dad, as in would be the dad that LOVES his kid’s friends, takes them as his own and if a friend comes to his house they are eating at least a snack. but a partner? quokka fluffy price is being brutally stabbed and his cold captain comes into play, silently judging your kid’s partner and you have to hit him and scold him to be nice. eventually warms up and the two go on fishing trips together.

Gaz carries around two pink sparkly backpacks for his two daughters, loves them. And those bags have all the essentials, snacks, toys, change of clothes and hand sanitizer. Doesn’t matter where you go the backpack is coming too, and he insists on carrying it too! You just watch him take over and you just relax. Probably cried on the first day he dropped his girls off at school.

Soap, this man holds his son like a dad holding a fish, funniest shit ever. Accidentally swears in front of his son, his son is like a parrot and says the swears everywhere and Johnny thinks it’s funny, until you get mad at him for teaching the kid how to swear. Definitely makes explosives with the kiddo in the backyard, keeps them safe of course but scares the shit out of you.

Ghost? GIRL DAD THROUGH AND THROUGH. Him with a teenage girl is a dangerous combo, any boy looks at her funny to Simon and he’s pulling up to pick his little girl up in full tactical gear to scare off any potential boyfriends/girlfriends. Definitely helps her with school projects, except he’e massive and somehow accidentally makes minor mistakes. Or has stickers on his face, has his nails painted occasionally or plays princess dress up and drinks his tea pinky out and legs crossed, little plastic princess heels made for a four year old on his big toes.

Alejandro would definitely encourage your kid(s) to do extracurriculars, and at events he will be the absolute loudest person cheering. With signs, and everything. Let’s use soccer as an example he would be a soccer dad, got the van and everything. Makes sure the kids respect you, if not they will get a scolding and a firm tap with the slipper, he would never hurt him.

Rudy would be the most tolerant dad ever, want to stay out late? Maybe if he knows who his kid is out with, sure. A sucker for puppy dog eyes though, one time his kid saw someone selling bunnies on the side of the road and looked at it for a second too long, few years down the line you have a rabbit the size of a small dog and Rudy absolutely adores it.

Graves is the daddest of all dad’s if that makes sense. Does the weird throat thing at ungodly hours, the hand thing when the kids have snacks in the car and carries them around on his shoulders, probably cream abuses them (aggressive lotion application)… Makes sure his kids get outside and they will have a strict screen time limit until like middle school. Caught him playing Barbies with your daughter once.

Valeria is the definition of protective mother, she would be strict but means well. If one of her men lets say scares your kid she is yelling at the man until he cries. Definitely keeps her kids out of her line of work, but never her line of sight. HELICOPTER MAMAAAAAA

Keegan would be the type of dad to stay up with your baby when their fussing at night, or as you guys call it ‘the night shift’. When the baby starts babbling he just nods along, tells you that “Look at ‘em! Planning world domination, definitely my spawn.” Would tell them to take swimming classes and all that survival shit to be safe when their older. Made the baby a tiny version of his mask and carries a rattle wherever he goes in his pocket. (mandatory)

Hesh would definitely make Riley reveal the gender with a tennis ball filled with pink or blue pigment, trained Riley to bring him clean diapers, pacifiers and everything. Him and Riley are basically teaming up to raise this kid, and you don’t really have to worry about much.

Logan would be very interesting, would give your baby a whole apple to eat if their growing their teeth in but makes them wear an apron and keeps the area extremely clean if their painting. Frames every little painting and probably does those cute little crafts with them like the pumpkin butt thingy.

Ajax is probably the funnest dad quite literally ever, installed a whole play place in your guys’ backyard just because, makes sure to make the kiddos childhood as memorable as possible which means doing stupid shit with them and occasionally ending up at the doctors for a broken arm or something. Definitely freaks out when they get sick and buys everything, just piles the medications at the store in when you ask him for medicine.

Kick is totally becoming a soccer mom, Lululemon insulated mug, the van and a cooler with snacks in the back. Probably known as the ‘cool dad’ at your kid’s school. Definitely feeds into brainrot and such to keep the cool dad status. Your kid probably turned into a partial iPad kid.

Seeing König with a baby for the first time was absolutely hilarious to you because he was so big and the kid was so small, definitely refused to breathe on the baby incase he hurt it. But once he started holding the baby he turned into a jungle gym, let’s the baby use his mask as a baby blankie, made himself a new one. Spends way too much on the baby… A concerning amount.

i really feel sigma rn guys

[beansprean]

Commissioned for @kristylime 's CUTEASS fic “A Prescription for Love”!!! This is a snippet from chapter 4! ;)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Full body of Guillermo, dressed in a pink tee shirt, grey sweatpants, and socks, sitting up on his bed with one arm propped behind him and the other petting a gray kitten named Beaker who is happily arching and rubbing into the attention. A window nearby shows a gray sky outside, and his laptop is open in front of him on the bedspread, covered in various vampire and pride related stickers. Guillermo looks sadly down at the cat and sighs, saying, "I just wish I had some kind of sign..." 1b. Close up of Guillermo with a tear forming in his eye, glancing over as his phone, sitting on the bed nearby, begins to ding with multiple incoming texts. His phone has a black case with a rainbow bat pattern. 1c. Shoulders up of Guillermo sitting up and holding his phone with his right hand, his left taking a moment to rub the tear from his eye. The phone continues to ding with more texts. 1d. Repeat. Guillermo opens his eyes to look down curiously at the phone, swiping his thumb across the screen to unlock it as it dings twice more.

2a. A series of texts from human Nandor appear on the left with reactions from Guillermo on the right. His message reads: "Hi, Guillermo. I hope you had a nice time today. I had a really great time at brunch and showing you the farm. And I’m glad you got to meet Dr. Baron and Dr. Sirus. And all my animals. I think Rajah misses his pal, Beaker, though. He seems a bit glum this evening. I must confess that I’m still on Cloud 9… from the kiss. Though I am looking forward to Taco Tuesday. Unless you’d consider seeing me tomorrow? Maybe just some takeout from my parents’ restaurant at your place? LMK." This is followed by a text with a photo of a blue merle Australian Shepherd named Rajah laying on a large plaid doggy bed with his head on his paws, looking up at the camera with big sparkly sad blue eyes. On the right, a close up of Guillermo huffing out a small laugh through his nose as he reads, looking fond. 2b. Repeat. Nandor sends another photo of himself, half in frame, wearing a flannel shirt over a black tee and his hair in a loose braid grinning and holding a strip of bacon out between his teeth. Rajah appears from the other side and excitedly chomps down on the other end of the bacon strip. Nandor writes, "I have determined how to chase his blues away at least temporarily. BACONNNNN!!!!!" On the right, Guillermo's smile grows helplessly, looking more amused and more fond by the moment. 2c. Repeat. Nandor sends another photo, clearly taken moments after the previous one, showing himself snorting with laughter as Rajah licks all over his face. He writes, "How is Beaker doing?" and then "Sorry for all the text messages. I just realized this might be creepy." On the right, Guillermo finally dissolves into laughter, tipping his phone as if to cover his mouth.

3a. A text reply from Guillermo that reads "Not creepy at all. Beaker is settling in well. He seems to like me, air conditioning, and/or movies. He’s nice to cuddle with and talk to. Thank you again. I was also thinking about our kiss. That it was a long time coming and that I’d like you to kiss me more, if you’d like that. Tomorrow, I work until 7PM, but I would love for you to come over for dinner. Persian Delight would be wonderful, but I would like to cook for you at some point, too. 7:30PM tomorrow?" Nandor immediately replies "Sure, it's a date," with a winking kiss emoji. 3b. Close up on Guillermo's eyes shining with excitement above blushing cheeks as Nandor's last text echoes in pink around him. 3c. Full body of Guillermo, sun shining on him from behind as the sun pours through the window, grinning happily as he holds Beaker up to his cheek with one hand and holds his phone out with the other to take a selfie. He says, "I guess as far as signs go, it doesn’t get a lot clearer than that." Beaker mews in reply. /end ID

[nickistuffs]

Design Choices

Hi, I’m back with some inspiration! As a designer in product development, this photo really resonates with me.

Pairing: Harry x Designer Reader (curvy or plus size—whatever you feel works best! This is just my preference 😌)

Summary: Harry invites you to a Pleasing meeting.

Word Count: 874

Warnings: None. Just fluff 💗

Please enjoy! I’m just doing this for fun.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there ...

Today, Harry had a meeting for his cosmetics brand, Pleasing. While getting ready, he saw his girlfriend sitting at her desk, working on designs and 3D renders for various brands vying for her talent.

He’d always wanted to add Y/N to his team of designers or do a small collaboration. However, being the shy and offline person she is, Y/N mostly kept her work to her portfolio and artworks online, with little to no social media presence. She’d told him before that she didn’t want to be seen as the girl who got work because of her boyfriend—something Harry found ridiculous since he would’ve gladly welcomed her on the team if she’d asked.

After slipping on his socks, he tiptoed to her workspace, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and placed soft kisses on her head. Briefly, he watched her work on what appeared to be a floor plan for a coffee shop. An idea crossed his mind, one he hoped she’d be open to.

“Hey, baby. Are you busy today?”

“Uhmm, not really. I’m just finishing my files, and my meeting got moved to tomorrow. Why?” she replied while continuing to type up details and notes for her contractors.

“Well, if you’re done with that, would you like to join me in a meeting today?”

She quickly saved her file and closed her laptop, looking at Harry with curiosity.

“For… your next album?”

“No, silly! For Pleasing. We’re finalizing some packaging boxes and stickers for a new nail polish release this New Year.”

“Oh! Right, sorry. My mind’s been all over the place.”

“No worries, love. So, do you want to come?”

“Sure, but can you pack my stuff for me? I’ll just go change.”

“Go ahead. I’ll take care of it for you.”

Harry rummaged through her work bag, filled with her essentials: a pen case, notebooks, journals, sample swatches, three different types of measuring tools, and other knick-knacks she might need for meetings or site visits. Knowing her, inspiration—or a design mishap—could strike at any moment. He added her laptop and earphones to the bag just as she walked back into the room.

“Ready! Do you have my bag, babe?”

“Yup, everything’s secured. I’ll just put on my shoes, and we can go.” ...

As Harry drove them to Pleasing’s unofficial office, he broke the silence.

“Babe, thank you for coming with me today. I thought you’d say no and stay home.”

“Well, I know I’ve said I didn’t want to be part of the product development team, but I still want to support you. If going to this meeting means so much to you, I’ll gladly hop in when I’m free.”

At a red light, Harry grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. ...

When they arrived at the small office, Harry and Y/N were greeted warmly and offered coffee, pastries, and nuts. She placed her bag on the floor and settled onto the couch, her eyes immediately drawn to the sparkly, hot-pressed foils on the PR boxes inside a nearby cardboard box.

“You can touch them if you like,” said Harry’s head designer.

“Thank you. Harry, may I?”

“I know you’re dying to feel it, love. Don’t let me stop you.”

Harry smiled at her excitement as she examined the new products Pleasing had created. He silently observed her body language, sweating a little as he hoped nothing was out of place—knowing how detail-oriented she was.

“These are so nice. The feel is great. Do you have options where the box is fully foiled or mixed with matte finishes for texture variety?”

A sigh of relief escaped Harry’s lips as he saw her getting into her element.

“Yeah, we have all of that here,” the head designer replied. “Here are the inserts, the bottles, and other packaging we’ve printed, along with the initial samples, if you want to try them.”

They laid everything out on the table. Y/N immediately locked eyes with Harry.

“These are amazing! The supplier you got is really good. You have to tell me who they are!”

Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“It’s a secret, love. I can’t reveal that to the competition. I might even ask the team to whip up an NDA before you leave.”

The three of them laughed at Harry’s joke, but soon the meeting shifted into a more serious tone. Work began in earnest, with Harry choosing his preferred designs, giving feedback, and discussing limitations and options with the team.

Meanwhile, Y/N started snapping photos of Harry looking serious, as well as top-down shots of the table and the stickers he was pointing to.

**“What do you think, love?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, I was distracted. Can you say that again, babe?”

“I asked if we should add another color to the collection, or if this is enough?”

“Well, is it in your budget? I thought you already finalized a color story. Adding another might confuse the supplier if it’s a last-minute change. I’d recommend saving it for your next release or an expansion of the range, maybe with a different collaborator.”

Harry nodded, impressed by her quick, thoughtful response. He felt a surge of pride, knowing he was in a relationship with someone as brilliant and passionate as she was. ... Thank you so much for reading! I have more in store and might write again soon. See you! 💗

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.