#bUT IT HAS A LOT OF FLUFF TOO

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[canisalbus]

doodled your little guys!!! I have so many thoughts about them. As someone who lives in Italy it has been absolutely wonderful seeing your characters express the country's culture and history!!! It's not often that I see characters be based off Italian history in such an artistic manner.. But that might be me living under a rock, LOL. Anyhow, keep doing what you do, YOU ROCK!!!!

.

[koipudding]

jing yuan, who loves when you’re wearing his clothes, and you return them to him. it’s so domestic and simple but he craves it. (gn reader, not a serious drabble.) reader is characterized as smaller than jy, interpret as you wish.

wc: 470

The clothes smell like you, of course. The laundry detergent you bought, your shampoo and the little scent beads you like to put in the washing machine. He doesn’t mind the musk that lingers on his old shirts after you clean the whole house, no of course not. Jing Yuan adores smelling your musk, lotion and conditioner melding together and melting into his shirt.

You go out to buy new scent beads every other month, a tiny little jar of them. Jing Yuan swears to anyone who listens that you’re doing this on purpose. Mixing your shampoo and lotion to match with the scent beads, changing the fabric softener to mess with his head (and laundry). He laments this to Fu Xuan, Qingzu, and Yanqing, who all beg you to stick to one routine before the General loses his sanity (of course, everyone groans and ignores him. they’ve had enough of his marital escapades, and they just tell him to marry you again if he’s this smitten. Thus, after a decade of marriage, Jing Yuan has rewritten his vows.) He likes these little variances in his routine, the little harmless surprise that keeps him on his toes.

(He swears it's just because you picked it out. You know it's because it reminds him that there's finally a home for him to return to.)

"I'm back, do you know what the others said during the meeting, they were planning on handing off more paperwork, but I insisted mimi and you would--" He stops in his tracks. This must be unfair. Divine Punishment? Did he anger Lan? his ancestors?

Jing Yuan sees you wearing nothing but some socks, his shorts and t-shirt (both of which hang off of your smaller frame). He runs over, pace quickening.

You yelp quietly, backing away before he pounces onto you, bearing all of his weight onto you. He can't help it, you're so cute wearing his outfit, doing laundry and making dinner.

“You smell so good.” he buries his face into your neck, inhaling the sun on your skin, lotion he bought for you, and the conditioner you've taken from his stash.

“And you smell icky.” You push him off gently, but his arms only tighten. He just got back from work, and he reeks of sweat. But you can’t ignore how your heart races whenever he gets up to these antics, and you can’t help but indulge in his whims. 

This is a regular habit. He barely removes his armor before running to you, and clings to you like a sullen child, asking about dinner and how his darling and mimi have been. You can only sigh and pat his head while he recharges in your lap (or, in Yanqing’s words: naps.) 

"thank you, for everything," He whispers into your ear, "You're doing great, sweetheart."

a/n: I was talking to a coworker abt how the only thing that brings me joy now is a 2d man (jy) and buying new scent beads/laundry scent boosters or sample perfume. then I had this idea. also that ending bit :,) sending good vibes to all with my first fic of the new yr!

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 28

Thomas stared down at Bruce-no- Danny as he led him by the hand toward what he had dubbed as his "Secret Lair" which was just an old fall out shelter in the woods that had been well hidden and forgotten about. The door to it was old and still buried under years of dirt and plant growth, requiring Danny to phase them into it which made Thomas wonder how his grandson had found it in the first place.

Inside was surprisingly high tech. "You have a secret lair filled with all this equipment but don't have any weapons or armor?" Thomas asked, making mental preparations to fix that.

Danny sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and explained his only allies were two other 14 year olds who were also untrained, unarmed, unarmored, and unsuper-powered which would explain why Danny was so excited to be working with an adult vigilante who at least knew what they were doing.

The kid didn't even mind when some of his more evil or harmful rogues "stopped showing up" thankfully no one would really question the reclusive Vlad Masters "going back to Wisconsin" only to never be seen again. No one saw much of him before coming to Amity Park, it made since he would become a hermit again once he had his fill of human interaction.

And if hes later found dead in his cheese castle? Well, the body had decomposed too much to really say what killed him. His will left everything to a Daniel James Fenton/Daniel James Masters which visibly infuriated Danny. Thomas mentally patted himself on the back. It was a good call to get rid of that one. The will was a surprise, though one that can only benefit Thomas in his crusade of protecting his grandson. Its not like he can return to a timeline that no longer exists anyway.

Unfortunately this doesn't stop the bats from hearing about "Batman" operating in a city in Illinois for the past few months...

[acidgreendog]

A Kaz Playlist

Exploring that untouched ground between when Kaz discovers he's been used and left out of BB's plans and when he finally settles as Master Miller, I've been thinking a lot about that anger and betrayal he must have felt to get him to walk away from everything he had been building. The personal anger he felt against BB himself was my main focus for a lot of these songs, as well as the feelings of turning his back on him in retaliation. I'm also enjoying thinking about how that bitterness and anger would spiral into a cycle of abuse that may have got taken out on his students, especially david snake, later down the line. This is basically like the world's edgiest break up playlist.

Genres: industrial metal, nu-metal, hard rock, grunge, alt rock.

Run time: 1hr 41 mins

Thumbnail art (by me)

Tracklist

(to be played in no particular order) and lyrics excerpts to show a little bit of why I picked each song:

The Big Come Down -Nine Inch Nails

"the big come down, isn't that what you wanted? // find a place with the failed and forgotten"

Twenty Four Hours -The Twilight Sad (cover)

"just for one moment, thought I'd found my way // destiny unfolded, watched it slip away"

Last Time -Fuel

"this is the last time now // I'll bleed for you"

Change My Mind -Puddle Of Mud

"how could I ever believe anything you've ever said? // I'm on the bottom of your shoes, a little piece, a piece of shit"

A New Way To Bleed -Evanescence

"but it's my // my heart // my life // that you're calling a lie // I've played this game before // and I can't take anymore"

The Line Begins To Blur -Nine Inch Nails

"there are things that I said I would never do // there are fears that I cannot believe have come true"

Hangnail -Nickleback

"my hopes just fell // and I can't see // the reason why // why there is blood on my sleeve // and all this time, I thought it mine // but it's not, it's yours"

Mudshovel -Staind

"all the promises you made to me you made in vain"

Made Of Stone -Evanescence

"I'll numb the pain 'till I am made to // tear out my heart for the way it makes me feel // I will still remember when you've long forgotten me"

September Rain -Cassyette

"my pain clouding my brain // I pray I will find me again"

Somewhat Damaged -Nine Inch Nails

"how could I ever think, it's funny how // everything you swore would never change is different now"

Somebody Someone -Korn

"I can't stand to let you win // I'm just watching you // and I don't know what to do // feeling like a fool inside"

Point #1 -Chevelle

"rebuke, don't choke on this twisted dream"

Home -Staind

"I can't accept this all // because of you I've had to walk away from everything"

Massive -Linkin Park

"I heard the screaming in my dreaming every night // I awake and I'm still mistaking you for right"

You Walk Away -Filter

"I can't live hate // I just won't hate // I just want a life of my own"

Thoughtless -Korn

"all my hate cannot be found // I will not be drowned // by your thoughtless scheming"

Wish -Nine Inch Nails

"I built it up, now I take it apart // climbed up real high, now fall down real far// no need for me to stay"

Alone I Break -Korn

"Now I see the times they change // leaving doesn't seem so strange // I am hoping I can find // where to leave my hurt behind"

Head Like A Hole -Nine Inch Nails

"head like a hole // black as your soul // I'd rather die than give you control"

And One (Hybrid Theory EP) -Linkin Park

"angers a gift, then I guess I've been blessed"

Prison Sex -Tool

"do unto you now, what has been done to me // do unto you now, what has been done" -not necessarily to be taken at the face value the song communicates, more so about a cycle of abuse among male power dynamics

Blue Monday - Orgy (cover)

"how does it feel, to treat me like you do? // When you've laid your hands upon me // and told me who you are"

Hating -Korn

"been hating all this time, before I crawled inside // been hating all the faces of everything I could find"

Doomed User - Deftones

"they're delusions, don't deny it // don't make this out to be a thing about you // I've been scarred, fucking repulsed by this // my only tale is one I can't stand"

[skyward-floored]

Swapped (interlude (part 7))

Next part of the Incredibles au swap fic lets gooooo. Checking in on what Sky’s doing! This one is a sort of break before the more dramatic ending chapters we’re getting to, so enjoy the moment of chill before things get crazy again lol.

People who voted on that poll ages ago for Sky to get a break... here you go XD

First | Previous | Next (coming soon)

————————————————————

Sky was supposed to be relaxing.

He looked up at his namesake, a cool breeze tousling his bangs, and sighed as some puffy clouds drifted by, trying not to think about what most of his extended family was doing. None of them had contacted him with any report of trouble, but they were all storming an illegal lab without him, stated several times to be dangerous, and Sky couldn’t help but worry.

And I could be helping them...

Sun looked over at him as she spread out a blanket on the grass, but Sky barely noticed, still staring up at the clouds. His thoughts were running rampant with things that might happen without him there, and it wasn’t until Sun came over and poked him that he snapped out of it.

“Link,” she said in a chiding voice.

He sighed. “I know, I know, I’m worrying. I just... I don’t know Zel, I feel bad about not helping,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “It just feels...”

“Weird?” she offered, and Sky sighed again as he nodded. “I know, I agree. But Time specifically said they’d contact us if they needed help. We’re the backup plan.”

Sky looked at her and smiled, reaching out to lightly tap her middle. “You mean I’m the backup plan. You’re carrying triplets and are not going anywhere.”

Sun scowled, and gave him a light swat. “I’m not due for a while yet, I could handle punching a few unethical scientists.”

“Yeah, I guess. So long as they were slow ones.”

Sun crossed her arms with a foul look, and Sky grinned, giving her an apologetic kiss.

“Sorry my love, you walked right into it.”

“Ha ha. I’ll consider forgiving you if you come sit and stop worrying,” she said, poking his nose. “We’re here to relax, remember?”

“Right, right... sorry.”

Sky let Sun take his hand in hers, and she pulled him over to the blanket, Aryll squealing as she ran through the grass nearby. Sky smiled as he watched her sit down next to the river nearby, easily in view of him and Sun, and began chirping hellos to the birds in the trees around her.

Sun sat down on the blanket she’d spread out, and Sky couldn’t help the way his thoughts drifted back to the rest of his family. He had no idea what they were doing, whether they were okay or not, if things were going well... Four was still so young, all of his nephews were, and he didn’t know—

“Sky.”

A hand squeezed his shoulder, and he drooped, looking guiltily at Sun.

“Hey. I’m worried too. But unless we need to worry about them, why don’t we do what we came here to do?” Sun said gently, and Sky exhaled.

“You wouldn’t think relaxing would be so hard,” he chuckled weakly, and Sun leaned on his shoulder.

“It can be. But that’s why we’re here, to just take it easy for a while,” she said with a smile, and sat back down. “We’re just here to sit by the water, or watch some clouds, or... pet ducks, like Aryll.”

“Is she really?” Sky asked, then gulped as he turned to look at her. Several large white birds were gathered around Aryll, their heads bobbing as they followed every move she made. They weren’t acting antagonistic, merely curious, and Sky heard Aryll giggle. “...Those are swans actually.”

Sun didn’t quite succeed in muffling her laugh. “Oh boy. Well, so long as she doesn’t take any home.”

“Please no, I don’t want a repeat of the geese incident,” Sky groaned, and Sun truly laughed that time, falling back on the grass.

“You looked so funny covered in all those feathers though. It was like you’d molted early.”

Sky huffed, joining her on the grass and setting his head on her lap when she sat up to lean against a tree. “Ha ha. You weren’t laughing so hard when we had to vacuum everything up, as I recall.”

Sun’s face turned cross, and Sky laughed, even when his wife plucked a dandelion and blew the seeds at his face.

Their laughter eventually faded, and Sky and Sun watched the clouds as they drifted by, the sound of the river behind them mixing with Aryll’s laughter. Sky’s eyes slipped closed as Sun began to play with his hair, and he breathed out a slow sigh, feeling calmer while he rested against her.

Sun was right. They were here to relax, and he would do his best to do that.

I used to be so good at just lazing around, he thought wryly, distant memories of being teased as a kid for having his head in the clouds drifting through his memory. Even as an adult Sky was known as being somewhat feather-headed, but ever since the island, relaxing had... not come easily. He did often find himself tired and wanting to sleep, possibly more so then he did before the island, but relaxing wasn’t the same as that.

It was just... hard to turn off his sense of danger.

It was better than it had been at least. When Sky had first come back, he could barely sleep at all despite his exhaustion, and found it nearly impossible to turn off his hyper-vigilant nerves. But even now he still found it hard to just... take it easy. Not worry about anything. Not have to constantly deal with life-or-death matters, and pay for a lapse in attention with his life.

But he was getting there. And despite how hard it had been spending over a year clinging desperately to survival, dealing with the fallout, relearning how to live normally again... making it to moments like this, his daughter’s laughter in the air while he laid next to his beautiful wife, her fingers gently playing with his hair... it had been worth it.

Every bit.

Sky hazarded a look up at Sun, still playing with his hair as she watched Aryll talk with the birds. The dappled sunlight that filtered through the tree made her hair glow, even pulled back like it was at the moment, and the few strands that had whisked loose of the style she’d pulled the rest of it into brushed her jaw when the breeze tickled them.

Sun must have felt his gaze, for she looked back at him, smiling as bright as her nickname as their eyes met. Neither of them said anything, but they didn’t need to.

Sky shifted his position to be able to look at her better, then glanced at Sun’s middle, feeling a rush of fondness as he gently set a hand on the raised part. He could feel a light kicking in there, and smiled as he felt the tiny movements.

“Have you thought more about names?” he asked as Sun let out an oof at the kicking, pausing to rub her middle before going back to idly braiding his hair.

“I was thinking maybe some that were related to each other would be nice,” she said with a hum. “Nothing overly theme-y, but just a little something.”

Sky hummed, and was quiet a moment as Sun kept braiding. “Well if they’re boys... how about Reddy, Will, and Abel?”

Sun paused. “...Why those?”

Sky couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. “So that whenever we agree to go somewhere, we can say that they’re ready, willing, and able.”

Sun groaned, and Sky cackled, still laughing when she poked him with her elbow.

“Time certainly passed on his dad jokes,” she snorted, and Sky smiled up at her.

“Yep, him and my Dad. Time’s have always been worse though.”

“That bad, huh?”

Sky nodded, chuckling as he thought back to some of Time’s worst jokes. “I know exactly where Wild got his love of puns from.”

Sun chuckled, and it was quiet between them again for a moment as she finished the braid. Sky heard a distant splash, and Aryll’s laughter rang through the air.

“You know, if there’s a boy... I was maybe thinking Crimson would be a nice name,” Sun suddenly spoke up, her voice soft. Sky looked at her in surprise.

“Really? Why?”

“Because of you, silly. Your hero name. And your father’s,” she said more quietly, and Sky felt his throat tighten rather suddenly.

“Oh. Yeah, that... that’s nice,” Sky whispered. He couldn’t quite get out what he wanted to say, but Sun understood, running her hand along his ear as she smiled.

Crimson Blade had been his father’s hero name, and Sky had taken the first part for his own in memory of him. The thought of also naming one of their kids after him wasn’t one he’d ever even thought of, but...

He liked it.

Sky took her hand in his, and she twined their fingers together, silence drifting between them for a moment.

“Do you have any more ideas?” Sky asked after he’d gotten more ahold of himself. “That’s only one out of three. Maybe if there’s a girl we can call her Songbird?”

“Might be a tad suspicious along with Crimson,” Sun replied with a smile. “If we really want a nod to it, then something like Lyric or Melody might be better.”

“Those are nice,” Sky agreed. “Oh hey, maybe if there’s a boy we can name him Link.”

Sun groaned dramatically. “Another one? Really?”

“It runs in the family, Zelda! We have to!”

She gave him a look. “Only if we can’t think of anything better. You know we don’t need more Links.”

Sky grinned, but he couldn’t help but think of the rest of his family again at the name. His smile faded, and Sun noticed, giving his hand a squeeze.

“You okay?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. I just wish we could help them,” Sky murmured, wishing he hadn’t been left behind, wishing he was there and fighting beside his family. Sun hummed thoughtfully, looking at the sky.

“Maybe we can.”

“Oh?” Sky said in interest, and Sun tapped her chin as she thought.

“Not in the fighting sense. But there are other ways to be helpful. Maybe we could go to Time and Malon’s place and get things ready for when they return,” she said. “Get medical supplies out, and make some dinner for them. And then whenever they all get back, they don’t have to do as much.”

Sky nodded eagerly in agreement, feeling a little burst of excitement. Finally, a way to help! “That’s a great idea. When do you want to go?”

Sun laughed. “Slow down, Link. Let’s enjoy things here first. Then we can go. We have plenty of time.”

Sky nodded, a little sheepishly, and they both relaxed again, silence drifting over them. An undercurrent of eagerness to help ran through him, but he did his best to set it aside for now, and properly relax.

They would help out, but first... they would rest.

Sky closed his eyes with a slow breath out. He breathed in again slowly, taking in the faint perfume of the flowers in the tree above them, and the grass and water in the breeze that brushed his face.

It really was a gorgeous afternoon.

Several quiet minutes went by, Sky lightly dozing, Sun still playing with his hair. A squeal and some louder footsteps eventually roused him though, and he opened his eyes to see Aryll charge up, her dress damp at the bottom, a grin on her face.

“Look!” Aryll said proudly, and Sky stared at the large frog in her muddy hands. “A heron showed me how to catch frogs, look look!”

“Wow, very nice,” Sky said with a smile, and he heard Sun muffle a laugh.

Aryll wiggled happily. “Watch this! If I do a— oops!”

The frog leapt out of her hands, and landed on Sky’s head, making him startle upwards. The frog went flying off of him as he straightened, and Sun yelped as it scrambled across her dress in its scramble to get away. Aryll shrieked happily as it leapt into the grass, and she ran after it as it hopped frantically away.

Sky wiped some mud off his head, Sun staring down at her now-damp and dirty clothes, and they met eyes.

“...On the other hand, maybe we should leave sooner,” Sun said, an exasperated smile twitching at her lips.

Sky just laughed.

[chaikajpeg]

Would you consider drawing chise x joseph?

anon you're not gonna believe what i've been doing the whole day today

[archivewriter1ont]

I Know Your Name as My Brother: Adopting Echo

Sharing this again because it's been a while and it's my favorite!

Status: Complete Word Count: 25,972

Summary:

Echo didn't escape Skakko Minor unscathed, and his new limbs are the least of his problems. When he walked onto the Marauder, he had no idea how he was going to make a place among the four brothers who had rescued and then adopted him. Slowly he realizes that he might not have to. Maybe he just needs to accept the one they've already made for him.

Tech: Call Sign (The Bird Story) -- The Batch's resident genius asks Echo a strange question. The cyborg gets a lesson about birds and his new squad's way of doing things.

Crosshair: Silent Words (The Sketch) -- Echo is brooding and he thinks he'll find camaraderie in the other sulky Batcher. But Crosshair is more than meets the eye.

Wrecker: Midnight (Lula and the Cyborg) -- Echo can't sleep. He ends up getting a chat, a tooka doll, and some surprising revelations.

Hunter: A Quiet Morning (Tea and Terrors) -- The sergeant and the cyborg have a rough morning and tea is the fix, paired with plenty of cadethood stories about his brothers that Hunter is willing to share.

Broken Pieces (Somehow Fit Together) -- Echo thinks he's stable enough to sleep without his prosthetics. He isn't.

Reflection (Peace on Pabu) -- Home at last.

[overly-verbose]

I'm just thinking that Uraume is a great cook, but the real masterpieces are made up of people. I understand that Sukuna will be a little uncomfortable eating people's kebabs (that usually scares teenagers, you know). BUT. The moral mobility of His Evil Majesty's mentality simply says to me: Find the enemy, and the big guy will finally get a nice meal. He worked so hard, he deserves dinner. ("Fu_k, Marry, Eat" game. Start). SO. ONE DAY. People tempura — yes or no? How much Curse is in our King?

Uraume is indeed a great cook, ridiculously even lol

- I mean afaik it's canon that, whilst human meat is supposedly difficult to prepare well, they managed to do it; which is one of the main reasons why Sukuna kept them around aside from the fact that they're a powerful sorcerer lol

(he most probably liked the unaltered taste by itself too (he did in my Series Canon for sure), but Uraume made it additionally enjoyable - so for Mr. I Do What I Want it was definitely a unique plus lol)

As for SIkuna eating people, hmm

Although he's pretty deeply in denial about it, he doesn't actually directly feel anything negative at the prospect

(as showed in Part 4, he actually found the little taste of Yuji's blood he got by accident ridiculously enjoyable, if in terms of Identity Issues and 'Ah Shit That's The Kid's Blood' extremely distressing as well. What a fun combination)

- it's Everything Else around it that makes him uneasy; like the fact that he Knows It's Wrong, The Kids Would Most Freaking Likely Not Like it, and just overall the Character Dissonance he feels about it all

because how the fuck can he be a protective inner marshmallow that would just like to hug the kids, and give them headpats, and heal their wounds, and just overall take care of them as best as he can 🥺

and someone that gets absolutely freaking giddy at the idea and acts of violence and bloodshed (as long as it doesn't involve Some People but especially if it involves Other Ones) at the same time y'know?

(sorry bro, you're not gonna get any less contradictory anytime soon if ever - have fun being yourself, whatever that means, lol

Complex characterisation and all that ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

But returning to the topic; I won't say anything about further down the timeline

(he might, he might not, who knows, probably not in a way that would upset the kids too much if anything but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

but there is this one particular, hm, person that would fit all boxes in terms of being a mostly guiltless but still tasty snack, though not as tasty as possible, who miight be meeting him relatively soon (how??)

- and SIkuna wouldn't even need to break any promises with Yuji (oop spoiler 👀) to indeed have a spooky snack!

So, before anything as sophisticated as tempura - there may be moreso sashimi :] *HeeHee HoHo's a bit as lighting strikes in the background and I comically jump in surprise because wtf the sky's clear-????*

.

[splo0shh]

Y'all hear me out-

EraserMic but it's in a Beauty and The Beast AU where Hizashi is Belle and Shouta is the Beast

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

i'm actually pretty far into my Picard-era Voyager reunion fic (about 6k out of.... probably 9k or so) but i'm a bit insecure about it because every other longer fic i've written has been a little more insightful & deeper whereas this feels too surface level for my tastes. like i enjoy writing it. and i'd enjoy it if i was just a reader rather than a writer. it's fun to catch up with these characters and figure out how their relationships have changed and write some banter but idk it's just not clicking the way my other recent published fics have.

[mishy-mashy]

Given the way BNHA genetics work, where the kids look the most similar to their mothers, Shinomori might have been Bruce's nephew

Y'know, I didn't think about that, but yeah- a lot of characters look like their moms (Midoriya, Bakugo, Uraraka, Jiro, Koda, etc)

I actually think they might've been cousins. Subscribing to the idea of [most kids take after their mothers], maybe they're cousins through their mothers?

Having OFA for 18 years and dying at 40 means Shinomori received it when he was 22. Shinomori being 22 years old seems close to how old Bruce actually could've been when he was alive himself.

Shinomori being Bruce's nephew is a cute idea though. I still think they'd be close in age, but Hikage can call Bruce "Uncle" to mess with him

Hikage: Uncle-

Bruce: Please don't make me feel old.

An adult that's a few years younger than you, calling you uncle. So like. Bruce could've been the babysitter / older cousin / uncle to weirdo Shinomori and he's just so used to babysitting that it automatically translates over to patiently dealing with Kudo and being protective over him (+ anyone in his care)

(Bruce gave OFA away before he went to go fight, so he really was protecting what was put in his care [Yoichi + Kudo] so they didn't disappear with him. Even if it was just a responsibility and basically their last organ that happened to manifest consciousnesses)

Bruce has Kudo. Shinomori has Banjo. Both are shorter, more risk-taking people that lead the way, but need someone level-headed by their side because they might charge in otherwise.

If they're related, that means Bruce probably also ages well too. And it means Bruce also might have a baby face like Shinomori-

(They look alike. They're also very so cute)

[starflungwaddledee]

which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus

[krystaldeath]

Not me making a whole new cotl (mainly narilamb) high school au and not it being based off of Detention by School Gyrls-

[blizzardfluffykpop]

alright~ a few updates about everything! so this weekend I'll be seeing changkyun in chicago- so I prolly won't be posting until after I'm alive again from that 😂😅 (I am vv excited about it- I just know I'll be vv tired when I return home). Anyways, I have a few fics in the works~ one of them that is a request 🤭 I'm vv excited to work on them! But I think I'm going to change my masterlist a bit when I come back. I'm going to retire a few groups from the main masterlist and I've been debating for the past year about it... But I think I'm going to add a yearly masterlist- So it would go from most recent to the beginning of this year~

I'm also thinking about changing my pfp- I haven't been really into stray kids for uh... years- But I will be sure to make an update about that if I go thru with that too- (It may be ji changmin next 🫣🤭)

Anyways those are my few updates 🥰💖

[veinspookiebear]

I think it's kind of funny (and a little frustrating to myself) that I can't write, just. pure fluff. for shiguang fluff week. like why is there plot what happened girl. literally before this the only things i could finish had to be pure fluff and now, on pure fluff week,