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Guys with beautiful eyes could do anything to me.. like wtv you say beautiful

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Hey so this was acc adorable

The mystery person SMAU was so well done too. It feels like actual texting and it feels in character

JUST ADD WATER .ᐟ

T. KAGEYAMA

cw: req by @cinnamxnangel for 700 event, ignore timestamps, crude language, mention of death (joking I promise they’re happy this time), possibly ooc kageyama idk i’m still getting used to him

gen tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @gumims @aldebrana

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ISTH ITS ONE OF THE BEST ANI FICS EVER

Me sleeping like a baby after reading an amazing Anakin Skywalker × Reader fic...😂😴 (The Order Forgot Me First by @softlymellow)

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Hey, so you know the song Let Down by Radiohead? Well, do you think that the part that says “winning, winning drives you crazy”, reminds you of Anakin Skywalker because he was so focused on winning- as in winning power- in order to ensure Padmé’s safety

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THIS. UGGGHHHHHHHHH

me for the past week and i'm so fucking maddd

STOP👏TAGGING👏XREADER👏IF👏YOU👏USE👏AN👏OC👏NOBODY👏 FUCKING👏ASKED👏FOR👏THAT👏OKAY???

The wrong thing is not the fact that you write a story with an oc, no, that's not the real problem, really.

IT'S JUST THE FACT THAT YOU USE THE WRONG TAG SO YOU HOPE MORE PEOPLE READ YOUR STORY. BUT BELIEVE ME IT'S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING 'CAUSE WE AREN'T ABLE TO FIND THE RIGHT FICS IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS!!!

There are people who like to read more stories with ocs than reader inserts, so use the fucking right tag go reach that community and stop spamming your stories among ours.

I don't think you get it but, you know, the purpose of fanfics with reader insert is to make the reader imagine her/himself as the mc of the story. The best part of these fics is the fact that EVERYONE can be included in them.

SO WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THEM BY MAKING THE MC A PERSON THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE READER AND EVEN HAS A NAME THAT IS NOT THEIRS?

Not to be dramatic but i hate y'all.

And the fact that it's always the same fandoms and we all know who we're talking about...

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Yk that trend where it’s like “ur gender is what’s in your pants” what would u pull out

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Luke is so pretty we need more Luke content- also I love ur black swan pfp!!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

୨୧ — LUKE SKYWALKER x rebellion helper reader ⋆˙⟡ short ver.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

⊹ Being a member of the Rebellion was extraordinary, an experience like no other. It required skill, courage, and most of all, hope.

⊹ That is, if you were apart of a section as an active participant, which you weren’t. Your job wasn’t anything special, just a mere assistant, helper.

⊹ It’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, Kriff, this wasn’t an opportunity given out to anyone, to be able to help even in the slightest for a good cause. But sometimes, it did feel a little miserable.

⊹ Always waking up in the early, orange sky mornings, expected to be on your feet and fulfill your duties for the day. Which of course, you did, not like you had any other choice.

⊹ Not only was it mandatory for you to assist pilots whenever needed, it was also required for you to have general knowledge about fixing up ships. It was tiring, always leaving you with a bit of grease on your hands, face and sometimes even clothes.

⊹ Nobody really made an effort to talk to you. The general topic was always missions, duties and even more mission talk. It was expected, yes, but there were times where sometimes you wished you could share a conversation with someone.

⊹ Until he came along. The bright-eyed, curious farm boy. Quick learner, always eager to see what kind of sights were left unexplored. Received lots of praises. Golden boy.

⊹ Then, something unexpected happened. He started paying you more attention than anyone else has, so far.

﹒”Hey, wait up!” His words were a little loud, but laced with good intentions. “Never quite got your name,” Jogging, just a little, to catch up with your pace.

﹒You suddenly froze, a bit stunned. “Uhm—It’s Y/n,” Your lips curled up into an awkward smile, not even remembering the last time someone’s asked that. How pathetic did that sound.

﹒”Well, Y/n, thanks for stocking me up with all those supplies. The med kit ended up being quite the useful thing.”

⊹ His golden locks sticked to his forehead, the shirt from his uniform tied around his waist, his undershirt clinging onto his form, and yet that toothy grin was the one feature that really caught your attention.

Luke shortly had to leave you after that, a voice calling him out by his last name, possibly for some extra training. And then it just kept happening.

After his missions, he’d ask about your day, plans, hell, he even invited you a few times to join him and the rest of the crew at the Cantina. It felt a little refreshing, if you had to be honest. Like you were finally apart of something.

He had no idea how much he’s changed things for you, simply doing it out of the kindness of his heart.

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A/N: a little short, i know!!😭 but i was just really eager to get this out there, especially since it’s luke <3 he deserves so much more credit I SWEARRR — I’m also taking requests! mostly for the characters i’ve already written for; but I’m open to any suggestions

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whenever there’s no new fics under my favorite x reader tags, an angel loses its wings

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This is actually adorable

getting stood up | ft. hq boys

-> pairings: miya atsumu, miya osamu, hinata shoyo, suna rintaro, tsukishima kei, iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader | sfw | cw: smau, cursing, they all highkey want u | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: you text your friend after getting stood up, and he knows exactly how to comfort you.

—a/n: don’t look at me.

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I didn’t change anything. This is what happened.

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A Bonus Page

First - Prev

Other Skywalker Comics

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It was that simple

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The way I need him

⟡ 𓂃 ࣪˖ SWEET SURPRISES — Sam Monroe x reader.

SUMMARY: Sam Monroe doesn’t know how to bake, but when he needs help making a birthday cake for his mom, he turns to you.

A/N: i’m so sorry if this is so sloppy omg.. i have no idea how to write about baking LOL reblogs appreciated !

WARNINGS: no explicit content, swearing (just a little), fluff

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“We’ll be back later, Sammie. Is that alright?” Robin asked, pausing in the doorway with a warm, hopeful smile.

Sam glanced up from where he stood, hands in his pockets. He didn’t roll his eyes or scoff like he might’ve on a normal day. Instead, he gave a small nod — subtle, but real.

Robin’s smile softened, and for a second, her eyes lit up like she saw the boy he used to be. “Alright then,” she said gently. “Be good.”

Sam smirked faintly, barely there. “It’s your birthday. I’ll try.”

That earned a quiet laugh from her — not loud, but full of affection. She reached out and briefly touched his arm before turning to join Peter at the car.

The engine soon started, the sound of the car starting and leaving the driveway present, earning a glance from Sam before he turned his gaze away.

Sam found out last minute — from Peter, of course, that he was responsible for preparing the cake for his mother’s birthday.

Which would’ve been fine, normally he’d just buy something from the store or a bakery nearby, except he couldn’t. All the stores were closed today, so he had no way of getting anything.

He could only scoff sarcastically, rolling his eyes at that, putting two and two together to realise that Peter did this purposefully, taking his mom out for dinner and leaving him the hard part, great.

Figuring he only had a few hours to somehow whip out a dessert, Sam stepped into the kitchen, frantically looking around for any useful ingredients. Not that he even knew what was required to bake a cake.

“Fucking hell,” Sam muttered under his breath, shoving through the kitchen cabinets to find all the unnecessary things. Even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he really didn’t want to disappoint his mom, not on her special day.

With an irritated sigh, he finally left the cabinets alone, leaning over the counter instead, trying to gather his thoughts.

He had two options. Either he could walk around town meaninglessly, hoping something’s going to be open,

Or, he could head to your house, which was conveniently two houses away from his. He didn’t even question why you came up into his thoughts.

Maybe it was because you always knew what to do. Or maybe it was because being around you made things feel... less complicated.

Without overthinking it, he tied his shoes and walked out the door — already knowing where his destination was.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon hearing a few knocks on your door, you reassured your mom you’d get it instead of her, and oh, what a surprise would that be.

The moment the door swung open, you could see a familiar face. Jet black hair, smudged eyeliner, messy clothes. Sam Monroe standing right in front of you.

“Sam? What’re you doing here?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow, subconsciously crossing your arms.

He didn’t reply right away, clearing his throat before leaning against the doorframe with his arm.

“I… might need some help,” he muttered, gaze shifting away for a second, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.

Your eyes narrowed a little, still unsure if you should let him in. “Help with what?”

Sam shifted, a small sigh escaping his lips, his posture more slumped than usual. “I’m supposed to make a cake for my mom’s birthday,” he explained, voice barely above a whisper. “But, uh... I don’t know how to bake.”

You blinked, surprised, your arms relaxing just a bit. “So you came to me because...?”

He shrugged, almost as if the idea hadn’t fully dawned on him, but he already knew he didn’t have much choice. “You’re the only person I know who won’t judge me for not knowing how to bake a fucking cake.”

A small laugh bubbled up from you, and for a moment, the tension between you both lightened. You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “I’ll help. But you’re doing the hard part.”

He smirked, stepping inside, his worn boots making a faint noise on the floor as he dropped his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

Sam untied his shoes and placed them with the other pairs, following you inside your home. It was nice, organised, sort of how he saw you already.

“Miss L/N,” He greeted your mother immediately, figuring it was respectful to do so, even though it felt a little awkward.

She only returned the smile, shortly leaving the both of you alone, kind of like a silent understanding, the subtle wink she gave you almost impossible to miss.

Dismissing your mom’s teasing smile, you led Sam into the kitchen, only then realising you didn’t even know anything about what he wanted exactly.

“What cake did you have in mind?” You suddenly spoke up, turning around as you leaned against the edge of the counter.

“There’s different types?” Sam looked confused, as if he genuinely had no idea what he was even talking about.

“Well, yeah, there’s chocolate, vanilla..Here, I’ll tell you what.” Pushing yourself off of the counter, you walked over to the shelf located not too far away, searching for something.

The moment you found what you were looking for, you pulled the book out, bringing it to Sam to observe.

“I’ve got a few recipes here, do you know what flavours your mom likes?” You turned to face Sam who was standing a lot closer to you now, watching him eye each page.

“No idea.. Hell, I didn’t know all these existed up until now.” Sam smirked, looking confused yet somehow amazed.

Figuring it was probably hopeless to try and read Sam’s thoughts, it was time to take matters into your own hands if you wanted Ms. Monroe’s birthday to not be a fail.

Your hands gently brushed as you flipped the page back to the chocolate cake recipe, but Sam was more focused on your subtle touch just now, not that he’d ever admit it.

Scanning the ingredients, a smile formed over your lips the moment you realised you had all the ingredients needed to prepare the dessert. Thankfully.

Sam simply watched you roam around the kitchen from cabinet to cabinet, from the fridge and back, carrying everything you needed. It was a lot, to him, at least.

“Is that really all we need?” His eyes went over each item displayed on the table, not even knowing where to start.

“Yeah, I’ll teach you how to get started.” You shot back, smiling back at Sam as you crouched for a second, grabbing a huge bowl to begin with. It was spacious, shouldn’t be a problem to work with.

Your fingers pulled the box of eggs closer as you invited Sam to stand closer to you, which he obliged, scanning your movements intently.

“You start with the eggs — you crack them, like this,” you said, tapping an egg on the side of the bowl, your fingers breaking it open. A small splash of the yolk fell into the bowl, the warm yellow contrasting against the white.

Sam’s hand lingered near the bowl, but he didn’t dare move. Instead, he just stared at the crack in your egg, his mind trailing back to the way you looked when your fingers touched — deliberate, soft.

“Your turn,” you said, nudging him, unaware of his thoughts.

He reached for an egg, his fingers brushing yours again, and he swore he felt the jolt of that touch all the way through his chest. With a deep breath, he cracked the egg, a little more clumsily than you, but he tried.

“You’ve got this,” you reassured him, leaning over to fix the small mess he made, your fingers brushing over his. He stiffened for a moment, trying to hide the flush creeping up his neck.

“Right.” Sam cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. “Right.”

You smiled at his nervousness, though you didn’t let it show. The way he was trying, despite his usual indifference, made your chest flutter just slightly.

As the eggs were cracked and the bowl was filled, you turned to grab the flour, but in doing so, a cloud of powdery white dust puffed up from the open bag, lightly dusting your face. You frowned, brushing it off, but before you could grab a towel, Sam was already there, his fingers gently wiping the flour from your cheek.

“You’ve got a little...” he muttered, his voice low, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his thumb lingered just a second too long against your skin, a quiet intimacy in the gesture.

You met his gaze, the moment stretching between you two. Sam didn’t say anything else — he just let his hand fall back to his side. But for a brief moment, it felt like there was more than just cake in the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, the sudden proximity making everything feel a little more real than before.

“Anytime,” Sam replied, his voice strangely soft, though he quickly looked away, clearing his throat.

He stepped back, pretending to focus on the ingredients, but you noticed how his hands fidgeted at his sides. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the cake... or something else entirely.

Fast forward a few hours, the cake has been baked, cooled and was now set on the countertop. A rich, chocolate-y smell filled the room, the both of you enjoying it.

“Now for some finishing touches,” You spoke up, grabbing a spatula and a tub of frosting, allowing Sam to observe.

Sam stood by the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a curious expression. “You make it look easy.”

You smiled, spreading a thick layer of frosting over the top of the cake. “It’s all about patience.

After a few more minutes, the cake was finished. The frosting was smooth, the decoration simple but sweet. You stepped back, admiring your work for a moment before turning to Sam.

“There. All set. This’ll be perfect for your mom.”

Sam glanced down at the cake, his expression unreadable for a second. Then, his lips quirked into a faint smile. “Thanks... I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It’s nothing, really. Always happy to help,” Your voice was definitely a lot softer now, quiet. Loud enough for Sam to hear, though.

As Sam picked up the cake, the space between you two felt different. There was a subtle shift, something unspoken, as if the afternoon had drawn out something more between you both.

“Thanks, again,” He turned to face you, a genuine smile formed on his face. No hints of sarcasm or anything of that sort.

You wouldn’t admit it, ever, but spending time with Sam was nice, you were glad he came to you with this request, or perhaps, excuse?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

♡ taglist : @harmaa-aurinko , @alealuvshayden

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The way I relish in the freak but I have a digital footprint to maintain

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This is actually so beautiful and soft I adored it

ANAKIN SKYWALKER having a nasty habit of taking flowers from Jedi temple garden and just casually plucking it behind our ear :((( just pure ani in love; his eyes all adoring and screaming love

- im identifying as 🐇 now and you can not stop me Nina..

—❝loves in quiet ways❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; hmm.. i wonder who this anon is.. IM GIGGLING. ALSO GUYS PLEZ. IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IM TAKING TO DO THESE REQUESTS. I SWEAR IM WRITING THEM ALL PLZZZZ. DONT CANCEL ME. i hope you all enjoy this, angels <3

THE SUN WAS SOFT THAT AFTERNOON, DRAPING THE JEDI TEMPLE GARDENS IN A GOLDEN KIND OF QUIET. The stone paths were warm beneath your boots, the hum of distant speeders barely cutting through the sound of birdsongs and rustling leaves. 

There was a breeze, light and playful, threading through the tall grasses and swaying the heads of the flowers that lined the edges of the courtyard. It smelled like Naboo, somehow—like sun-warmed petals and something fresh and green.

It always started the same way.

You’d be walking through the Temple grounds—usually after a training session with your Master, sometimes on your way to the Archives, once even after a really boring mission debrief—and out of nowhere, Anakin would slow down beside you as you two were walking together. His eyes would wander a bit, like he wasn’t really listening anymore. You used to think he was zoning out. Turns out, he was just looking for flowers.

The first time it happened, you right were here in the Temple gardens. You were mid-sentence about something pretty boring—which was the ridiculous size of the new training droids—when you noticed Anakin had stopped listening entirely. You were about to call him out when he suddenly turned to you, completely unbothered, holding the softest-looking flower between his fingers. It was a small flower—soft blue petals, barely bigger than his thumb.

“Hold still,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the galaxy.

You blinked a few times in confusion, but didn’t move an inch—just tilted your head questioningly as he stepped in close, your eyes looking up at him. 

He reached up with one hand and carefully tucked the flower behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your skin so lightly it made your breath catch.

You stood there staring up at him, heart tripping over itself, while he just smiled at you like you’d hung every single star in the sky.

“Perfect,” he said, quietly. Not looking at the flower, but instead looking at you.

You could feel your cheeks warming up, a rosy blush covering your face, but it was still impossible to look away from him. His gaze was so open, so full, that it made your stomach twist in the best kind of way. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You murmured as your lips quirked up at the corners, trying to sound casual.

His own lips twitched like he was fighting back a smile. “Can you blame me?”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like tucking flowers behind your ear was as natural to him as breathing. And maybe it was.

“I like seeing you with something soft,” he added after a beat, voice quieter now. “Like… Like the world should treat you just as gently.”

Your stomach was filled with butterflies in that moment, and it was hard to hide the way your eyes twinkled with adoration for him.

And all he did was smile at you. That small, boyish one. The one that only ever reached his eyes when he was looking at you.

Since then, it’s just become a thing of his now.

Sometimes he does it in passing, like it’s muscle memory now. You’ll be walking towards the mess hall, or sitting on a bench in the courtyard, or leaning over a datapad—and suddenly, there’s Anakin, plucking a tiny bloom from somewhere and tucking it behind your ear like it belongs there.

Like you belong to him, in this small, soft, secret kind of way.

No one else notices. Or if they do, they pretend not to—like Obi-Wan, for instance.

Maybe because it's Anakin, and he knows better than to ask about whatever storm or sun is brewing behind those eyes.

But when he's with you? It's never stormy. Just warm. 

Soft. Reverent. 

A little shy, even.

The way he looks at you every time he does it… stars. It’s like you’ve undone him without even trying. Like he’s seeing the whole galaxy and somehow you’re still the brightest thing in it.

There’s no smirk on his face, ever. No cocky comment. Just that stupidly soft smile you adore and those eyes—so full of something that looks so dangerously close to love.

Once, you caught him doing it when you were barely paying attention. A little wildflower tucked behind your ear, and he stared at you for a second longer than usual.

“What?” You asked, trying not to grin.

“Nothing,” he said, but his voice was too full of feeling for it to mean nothing. “You’re just… beautiful.”

And you couldn’t even pretend to tease him for it, because your heart was doing backflips, and you knew his was too. Because for all his bravado and charm, Anakin loves in quiet ways—in flowers and looks and touches that said everything he couldn’t out loud.

And even now, with the war growing louder, and the galaxy heavier, he still finds time. Still finds flowers. Still finds you.

Because loving you is the only thing that’s ever felt easy. 

And he’d rather die than let go of that. 

Rather die than let go of you.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @anisangeldust @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome @ysrjune @fredswrite @divineani

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list, angels <3

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“kei, do you ever think about how strange it is that we've never fought?” you ask, limbs tangled with his as you cuddle on his bed.

it’s 10:03 PM and you’re doing your best to fight against the chilling, icy atmosphere of tsukishima’s room. for some reason, he likes to sleep like a vampire.

“do you want to?” he offers with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. tsukki doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds, too sleepy to entertain another one of your late night overthinking sessions.

“no,” you say calmly, “but we’ve been together for 7 months. we must either be like, the greatest couple of all time or the exact opposite.”

you feel his chest rise and deflate against your head as he lets an overly dramatic sigh.

you knew tsukishima kei wasn’t one for pda. hell, it was one of the things you loved about him. he knew how to make you feel loved without having to scream it to the world.

like that one time on one of your first dates, when you had accidentally fallen asleep on the soft grass of the park while waiting for his weekend practice to end. you woke up with a hand massaging your scalp.

“how long have you been waiting there?” you giggle, rising from your slumber as you rub your eyes awake. he pulls away, casually avoiding your gaze. “why didn’t you wake me?”

kei only shrugs, “you looked peaceful.”

or that other time you got sick for a week and couldn’t make it to school, so he immediately visited you as soon as you got better and brought his backpack with him.

“i got two copies of all the homeworks due next week, so you don’t have to ask the teachers for them.” he unpacks his notes and fishes out two pens from his bag before turning to you. “come, i’ll teach you everything you missed.”

your teachers praised you for how responsible you were, and told you how much they appreciated that you took the initiative to study.

yeah, you totally did that.

or like right now, and all the other nights you’ve spent at his place. because unbeknownst to you, tsukishima kei sets up his bedroom every single time you visit. he tidies up, cleaning even spots that you would never think to look at. but most importantly, and tsukishima knows this routine by heart, he turns the a/c to the highest setting so you’d be forced to cuddle against him underneath his sheets.

“the former,” is all replies with, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“but seriously though. how lucky are we to never have fought even after seven months.”

tsukki sighs again, before reluctantly revealing, “we don’t fight because i make it a point to always agree with you.”

you’re taken aback by his words, sitting up slightly as you look him in the eyes, though his are still closed as he tries to focus on sleeping.

“...huh?”

“idiot,” he teases. maybe he thinks calling you names will cover up for how unbelievably sweet he’s being right now, “why would i want to argue with you?” he shifts, trying to subtly move his face away so you don’t see him fully.

“but i can’t always have my way, you know. a relationship should be 50/50, right?”

“not ours.” he presses your head back against his chest, and you hear his heartbeat fasten a little. “you’re the boss.”

BONUS: “and you’ve never paid in your life anyway. you don’t believe in that 50/50 bullshit.” “hey!” “i don’t even know what your wallet looks like.”

@kokokoula this one’s for u <3