#boy needs the fluff too

[pencilofawesomeness]

For the hugging request : Mystogan and Jellal

The ✨ twins ✨

(Drawing them this happy was pure serotonin. They’re found family, your honor.)

[teddybeartoji]

satoru loves giving you heart-shaped hickeys. and then he loves to stare at them (and you) in the mornings when you're brushing your teeth and washing up. he hugs you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, eyes glued to your reflection. there's a sleepy, albeit an incredibly proud smile on his lips - he loves to show his love through his actions. his lips on your skin, drawing a bruised heart right above the beating one - he needs you to see his adoration, his everlasting devotion, at all times.

[muldermuse]

exbf!butcher being the dad that stepped up for your daughter💓💓💓 we need more headcanons for your vision on this, like, does he know her since she was a baby, did she grow on him and he on her when she was a toddler, does she call him dad, does she know her mom and Butcher are kinda still a thing because they kiss from time to time and sometimes he stays over and sleeps in her mom’s room when they think she isn’t sleeping and so she won’t know??? We need answersss

OKAY SO

you got with butcher when your daughter was 2 and a half. the first time he met her was at her third birthday party, it wasn’t supposed to be that way but the bouncy castle wouldn’t inflate and you thought you were going to pass out from stress so you called butcher- who of course comes straight away

your daughter is TERRIFIED of him the first time she meets him. like, he’s big and scary looking. also not a lot of men come to your house so one that looks like butcher feels extra daunting for her as a lil 3 year old. you coax her into showing billy her birthday presents and she grabs his hand and leads him into the living room. she looks so small compared to him and that’s when butcher decides he wants to be a part of this little girls life for as long as he can (hopefully forever). he takes a genuine interest in all the books, plushies and toys that she’s showing him

he meets her again a few months later, you’re both still going steady and your daughter keeps asking when the ‘big man’ is coming back because she wants to show him more of her plushies. you invite him round for dinner and your daughter basically takes all his attention. she’ll run up to him with different books and ask him to read them. which he does- she loves it because he does all the silly voices

she struggles with his name so just calls him butch. even as she gets older, she never calls him anything else

you stay together until she’s like 6 and then the break up happens. he’s known your daughter for nearly 4 years and he loves her and she loves him- probably her favourite person in the whole world so she still sees him often

she never called him dad but when her friends talk about stuff their dad does for them, she’ll always say that “her butch” does that

you keep seeing each other but it’s so off and on again. it’s not fair for your daughter to get stuck in the middle so every time he spends the night- he leaves before she goes to school

eventually she clocks on and realises because she sees him sneaking out on her way to the bathroom. he looks nervous, “hey kid…just uh…your mom asked me to stay last night”- he can’t lie to her

she doesn’t care, she just asks him to make her some oatmeal because he makes it the best

[adrift-in-thyme]

I worked on the fic as promised and…it got out of hand. So instead of a snippet I’ll just give you guys the whole thing XD Thank you all for providing that extra nudge I needed to finish it!

Though there’s nothing too descriptive here, there are brief mentions of blood, injury, and captivity. So be careful and take care of yourselves <3

————————————————————-

There is another fae in their group.

Hyrule has sensed it since he joined this little band of heroes. Fairy magic is soft, gentle, easy to miss when it is not in concentrated amounts. But there is a strength to it, an unbreakable force that little else possesses.

While the dark arts are vicious, like a javelin through the heart, fairy magic is soothing and unshatterable. Dependable and comforting.

There are many different magical signatures amongst the men and boys who share his name. Some torn apart and melded back together into something stronger. Others as mighty as a gale force wind, or as swift and discerning as a rabbit, as decisive and resilient as a barricade. Still others as fierce as a soaring hawk, as vicious and protective as the wolves that prowl the forest, as crafty and quick as the mischievous foxes that sometimes play around Hyrule’s feet.

Hyrule keeps his eye on them all as they travel, discovering who they are, watching their tells, learning the ways their faces portray their emotions even when they attempt to cloak them. And he wonders who amongst them is a brother in more ways than shared spirit. Who among them flits on a pair of silken wings.

He wonders until the day Time breaks.

Their journey is a long, arduous one, treacherous and laden with pitfalls. It’s only natural that it would take its toll. Still, Time holds out impressively. Even while he studies him with the other heroes, Hyrule never sees that mask of his slip, never sees a chink in the armor he wears.

At least, not for the first three months of traveling together.

But then, one day, there is an accident. A simple slip up born of exhaustion. During a battle with a group of black-blooded beasts in Twilight’s Hyrule, Warriors doesn’t see a monster lunging for him. Not until it’s too late.

And when he crumples into a limp, bloodied heap, Time’s mask shatters.

He doesn’t manage to piece it back together for the rest of the day. Not when he carries Warriors back to camp. Not when he lays the captain down on his bed mat and helps Hyrule tend to him. Not even when Warriors comes to, groggy and sore but very much alive and very much himself.

The captain teases him about being over protective. Time’s answering smile is a hollow one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The injury had been a severe one, Hyrule won’t deny that — perhaps, more so than any of them have endured thus far. But Time seems to take it the hardest of any of them. And Hyrule can’t help wondering if maybe, just maybe there is something more behind his behavior.

Could it be that Time has been feeling the overwhelming nature of this quest the same as the rest of them, caving beneath its weight but unwilling to show it?

So, during dinner that night when Time sets aside his untouched food and slips silently away, Hyrule trails after him.

He goes a short way into the surrounding forest, footsteps soft, ears pricked for any sound of disturbance. Then, he stops, casts a quick glance around him…and disappears.

Hyrule peeks out from the cover of a nearby bush, eyes wide as he stares at the place where the old man had stood. For a long moment, he remains motionless, thoughts whirring, trying to decipher what has just happened.

Hero of Hyrule or not, people don’t simply dissipate like the morning mist. Though, with Time’s seemingly endless collection of masks, he supposes something of the sort is possible. Still…

Hyrule frowns.

There is something else here, hovering in the damp night air. A familiar magic that now drifts lazily over to him in delicate wisps.

Hyrule straightens. His brows dip further.

He knows what Time’s magic looks like, smells like, feels like. It is difficult to ignore, after all, tangled and tortured as it is. Such power is meant to flow freely. But Time’s has been grasped in hands that are not his own, grasped and mangled, suffocated, stretched to its breaking point and further, morphed into something completely unlike what it must have been at the start.

It is nauseating to behold at times. Right now, however, right now Hyrule can’t bring himself to look away. Because threaded in between the heartbreak and pain are gentle strands of the faintest blue fae magic.

The traveler steps forward. His eyes travel over the trail Time’s power has left behind, leading all the way up into the highest branches of a nearby oak. If he squints, he can make out a tiny dot among the lush leaves, shimmering emerald.

His lips part in a silent “oh.” He dares to take another step forward, then another and another, wings issuing from his back as he goes, body shrinking until it too can soar up to the haven of foliage.

Time doesn’t startle when he lands quietly on the branch. He remains sitting where he is, legs hanging over the edge into the open air, wings wafting gracefully back and forth. Hyrule stares at them, almost taken aback by their beauty.

He should have expected it, he supposes. Every fairy’s pride is their wings, after all. But Time’s unforgiving plates of armor, his dull gray tunic and obsidian trousers, the glowing marks of crimson and navy blue adorning his face – they provide such a severe air. Strength, dedication to duty, and unyielding courage are what they convey.

His wings, however, they speak of softer things, fragile things held close and treasured.

They are long, sweeping along the height of Time’s body in flowing curves like those of a butterfly. Their translucent surface is colored a deep emerald and adorned with veins of pale pink. They remind Hyrule of the vibrancy of the forest after a long, hard storm; of the look of leaves when the emerging sun caresses their dewy surfaces.

He walks closer, almost enraptured by this sight. Perhaps, he should turn away from something so vulnerable. That is likely the polite thing to do. But he has traveled far beyond politeness now, mesmerized as he is by this discovery.

And when Time says, “Hello, Hyrule,” there is nothing in his tone to communicate that this is an invasion of his privacy. On the contrary, he sounds calm, unbothered. He pats the spot beside him and slowly, Hyrule settles down upon it. Their wings nearly touch.

“So, it’s you,” he says, awkward and awestruck.

A small smile quirks the old man’s lips. His gaze remains trained on the heroes gathered far, far below them. Their laughter and chatter float up to them in bubbles of murmured joy.

“Yes, it’s me,” he says, mildly, as though this meeting is no shock. As though he has been expecting it for a long while.

Silence settles for a moment as Hyrule scrambles for what else to say.

“How?” Is all he can come up with.

Time chuckles. Hyrule is certain the sound is lighter than usual.

“I’m not sure.” He cocks his head, bangs falling aside so Hyrule can see his markings. “I have theories, of course, but I have no way to prove any of them. And those who might have been able to explain are long gone.”

His voice is good-natured enough but the words carry a weight that Hyrule can feel in his soul. He ducks his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Time shrugs. “Their fates were not your doing. There is no need for you to ache for them. Or for me.” He turns now, a smile brightening his face once more. “What about you, Hyrule? What is the nature of your transformation? Were you born with it?”

“Oh, it’s just a spell,” Hyrule replies, quickly. “Though, I’ve wondered if I was born with fae blood in me. I don’t think it would’ve worked otherwise.”

Time hums, thoughtfully. He is quiet for a moment, once more staring down at their comrades.

“I wondered why I felt the presence of one of my brethren amongst the group. But it wasn’t my place to pry. Besides, I assumed it was only a matter of time before I discovered who it was. Secrets don’t stay concealed for long in a group such as ours.” He grins. “It seems you found me first, however.”

Hyrule laughs. “It sure seems that way.”

“That isn’t why you followed me though, is it?” The old man’s gaze is sharp and discerning as he pins Hyrule with it. The traveler fights not to sink into himself beneath it.

“No.” His voice is a bit smaller than he wants it to be, embarrassment sneaking into it against his will. “It isn’t.”

Time nods and looks away again. Stance relaxed, expression guarded, he waits. Hyrule swallows, gathers his courage, and continues.

“I saw how upset you were about Wars.”

Time flinches almost imperceptibly. The walls that had gone relatively low rise again so far Hyrule is taken aback by it. Yet, he plows on anyway.

If anything, Time’s reaction validates his decision further.

“And…I saw how you tried to hide it, too. And I wanted to make sure you were okay. Because you don’t, old man, you don’t have to hide what you feel.” His gaze travels to those magnificent wings again, grander than his own, yet so similar. “Or what you are.”

“It’s dangerous,” Time murmurs. “You know that, traveler.”

Perhaps, he is talking solely about feelings and the open expression of them. But Hyrule sees a bottle anyway, brimming with desperate magic, translucent sides smeared with blood and tears, it’s top shut so tightly the air has grown thin.

“Not with us,” he says, firm despite the dizzying rush of fear the memories bring. “Not with me.”

He scoots closer. His shoulder bumps against Time’s, their wings brush. Time’s next exhale catches at the end.

To anyone else such proximity would be touching enough, a display of closeness between two brothers in arms and spirit. But Hyrule knows that to fae it means even more than that.

Wings are not only the pride of the fairy people. They are also their greatest power — and their very life. To allow someone else to touch your wings so freely is a show of trust as momentous as when Time had shown them his ocarina. Not the one embued with sacred magic and given to him by Lullaby. No, the one that is even more precious to him that even that one. The one Sariah had given him so very, very, (very, very, Hyrule adds for good measure) long ago.

The stiffness that had seeped into Time’s posture eases slightly. Hyrule feels a smile stretch across his face.

The two of them grow silent, allowing the symphony of night creatures to fill the space between them. Hyrule swings his legs, back and forth, back and forth, listening to the crickets and owls singing in time with the laughter of his brothers. Time still looks down upon them.

Watching over them, Hyrule realizes with a sudden burst of warmth.

Their leader can seem cold sometimes, distant. Little had he known the depths of his love for the heroes with whom he shared a spirit of courage.

There is much, he thinks in wonder, that he doesn’t know about the old man.

Beside him, Time sighs and exhaustion permeates it. “You all aren’t going to give up on me, are you?”

Hyrule sends him a grin. “Nope. We’re not gonna stop until we know all your secrets. All of them. And we’ll know because you’re comfortable enough with us enough to share them, because we’ve earned your trust enough to be gifted them.”

Emotion burns in Time’s eye when he turns to the traveler. His face is more vulnerable than Hyrule has ever seen it before — even when Warriors fell.

“My trust isn’t easy to earn.”

“And Hyrule isn’t easy to save.”

Time holds his gaze for a long moment. Then, he smiles. It is small, almost shy, but Hyrule knows it is a gift. The first of many, if he’s lucky.

“Well, then, I suppose you’re amply prepared for such a challenge.”

Hyrule leans in closer, pride welling within him when Time returns the gesture, and his grin grows.

Yeah. He thinks, watching with wide eyes as fairy dust floats around them. I am.

We all are.

[snowflakeanimelover]

Imagine this man:

Thomas Shelby….

Falling in love with a woman who doesnt wear skirts and dresses, but wears these:

Fucking love suits on women, they look so good. Also, these pictures were found on Pinterest. These pictures belong to their rightful owners, not me.

That, or Thomas falling in love with a farmer girl who works hard on her family’s farm.

[jacks347]

(After the latest BVZ episode, I have to get this out of my brain. Enjoy Albus visiting home out of panic.)

Faith barely heard the door open and slam shut over the low buzz of the early evening. Faith was working on dinner, Kerano was doing her homework at the kitchen table. If anything, she expected the sound to be Devlin. It wasn't until she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her in a tight grip, burying his face in her hair.

It was...odd. Faith almost didn't want to breathe, lest she break the atmosphere. Albus didn't do hugs, Faith would know. But here he was, clinging onto her like she'd disappear if he didn't. If she really listened, she could hear him mumbling something. "She's safe, she's okay, he can't hurt her now." Over and over like a mantra. Just what had happened out there?

She slowly reached up, smoothing over the warrior's hair. "Albus? Are you okay?" That seemed to snap him out of it as he lifted his head, his near death grip loosening. "Huh? Oh, I'm fine, Faithful. Just...had a rough mission." Faith leaned her head back to raise an eyebrow at him, unable to resist a teasing smile. "What's this? The impervious Albus York admitting he had a bad day?" He snorted, almost offended as he pushed her away. "Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Next time I'll just leave you to worry like an old housewife." "Don't you dare, I will march out to Maya myself and hunt you down if I have to." Faith warned, brandishing her spoon like a sword. Albus only chuckled, pushing her spoon down and kissing her forehead. "You're cute when you think you're intimidating, you know that?"

The healer could only sputter and blush, unable to find the words to counter him before pointing towards the table. "Just...go sit for dinner. You came all this way, you're not leaving until I know you're not going to drop over dead from hunger or something." "Stickler as always, Faithful." "Go!" "Alright, alright, I'm going."

Albus wandered to the table, settling into the chair across from Kerano with a sigh. "How ya doing kid? Listening to your sister?" Kerano’s head popped up with a toothy grin. "Mr. Albus! When did you get here?" "Ah only a couple minutes ago, you didn't miss much." "Oh well that's good! Big sister really misses you when you go away for so long." "Oh does she now?" "Yeah! I mean, she has Mr. Devlin and she's always happy with him but she talks about you a lot. Wonders where you are or what you're doing or if you're okay. She really worries about you. She tries not to show it but she acts different when you haven't been around for a while." Albus raised an eyebrow at that. "Acts different? How?" "Her shoulders get all tense. They get closer to her ears bit by bit like a wind-up toy. And she gets really nervous. Then you come by and she relaxes again. It's kinda funny to watch." Kerano giggled as Albus’s heart flipped. She really worried about him. Gods above, if only she knew how much he put on the line to protect her.

"Kerano, honey! Can you clear the table? Dinner's ready!" "Yes big sister!" Kerano hopped down from her seat and quickly cleared her papers off the table, setting out dishes as Faith brought in a delicious smelling meal. As they both took their place at the table, talking and dishing out food, Albus sat quietly and watched. He watched his girls talk and laugh, watched them be happy like a mom and daughter.

This was his mission. This was the thing he fought so hard to protect. Fuck whatever he told people, fuck his own life, he fought for his family. For the woman he loved, the girl he cared for as his own, and the brother he'd grown to have. He would never deserve it, never deserve a place in their picture perfect life, but he'd be damned if he let his actions be the thing that destroyed it. So he would defend them with his life.

"So Kerano tells me you get all jumpy when I'm away. Haven't convinced Vinny to give you any stress relief, eh?" "Albus!!"

(There. Brain worm satisfied. I can finally finish my homework in peace-)

[uriwoos2]

can't sleep... head full of best friend juhaknyeon, who is just so gentle and patient with you.. the situation doesn't matter tbh. like he's just so kind and warm and accepting no matter what. it could be the most stressful situation, in which he couldn't possibly keep calm and all the stress would get to him, putting him on edge but then, when he turns to you his words are coming out all gentle, his eyes holding a soft look, for you. or if you're struggling to do something, failing over and over, when by this point anyone else would've lost their patience but hakkie,, he'll delicately slip his hands over yours and show you how. softly whispering instructions into your ear, as kind to you as ever.. he'll always treat you like you're the most precious thing in the world, he just wants to protect you and have you next to him, safe and happy <3 he's just so perfect :'(

that being said, imagine being deathly afraid of the dark, so much so that you're trembling and visibly scared, and haknyeon taking notice of this, instantly rushing to comfort you in the way he knows how to. he'll just hold your hand, tapping his fingers on the back of yours rhythmically, in patterns. in hopes of distracting you from your fears :( <3 the sweet sweet boy that he is, he'll ask first if it's ok to hug you, and after you grant permission, he'll just wrap his arms around you in the most comfy bear–hug possible.. he's so so warm, and smells so very nice.. his entire presence takes over all your senses, leaving no room for fear. he's an angel, purely perfect..

sometimes he makes you think things that you shouldn't be thinking, like how you want him to hold you close and never let go.. or how you want him to never leave your side and take your hand in his when you need it.. or that the urge to kiss him is so overbearing and as time goes by it only gets more and more intense... but you couldn't ask for a better best friend, and what if he doesn't feel the same?.. that could ruin what you have now, and you don't know if it's worth the risk.. but for now you're just gonna take your time to bask in the warmth his body radiates, the comfort he provides through his gentle touches, rubbing circles on your back, arms tightening around you occasionally, signaling I'm here. here for you. so you close your eyes and hug him back just as tight, signaling back I love you. hoping that somehow he'll get it, miraculously he'll just know.. but the only tangible feeling you have currently is his tight embrace, and you're quite literally sinking into the warm, safe arms of your favorite person. he's your angel <3 sweet, kind angel <3

[nezumeanie]

☆ a s m o party night! *˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩.

warnings: alcohol mention | drunk mc | a party scene, ofc (horrific!!!!!!) | but gn reader as always >_<)7 and maybe some typos i dunno

♡ you had never actually considered going to one of those “asmo parties”—spending so much of your time exhausted from devildom antics, swamped with language homework you couldn’t make sense of, and the overall overwhelm of your exchange, you just couldn’t find the time or energy to look into it. this particular asmo party, however, was going to celebrate his birthday making this asmo party even more asmo themed: everyone should wear as much pink as possible and glam themselves up as much as their pretty little bodies could handle. something about that made you feel giddy and annoyed at the same time, not really knowing whether or not it was a good idea to go.

♡ that night had been filled with an electricity you hadn’t been used to as well. unconsciously, you really wanted to impress asmo, and wanted to make sure you looked good in front of all the guests he loosely called his friends. maybe his sin was peppered in the air, you hoped people would look at you and know that you knew asmo in ways that they would never think to imagine, that you had seen him really cry or that you had even seen him with a bandaid over a pimple on his forehead (thought you hadn’t ever seen the actual pimple). that your proximity to him would incite anything in them: anger, jealousy, awe, admiration. maybe that feeling was new, maybe it wasn’t. the venue was dark with varying shades of pink and white neon lights, all sorts of beings were pressed together in a way on alcohol could make cozy, the sound of the music drummed deep in your chest making your own heartbeat unrecognizable. you wondered is this the right idea? since you would, undoubtedly, see asmo again in the morning at home and would wish him happy birthday then, instead of watching him turn over a new year at midnight tonight. he thought himself to be the whole world like this, it made you smile how strange he truly was.

♡ the only worry you had was whether or not you would get to see asmo at all! the air was hot and sticky, the people around were singing and yelling and laughing and all of their faces were unrecognizable to you. there’s no earthly way someone could have actually known this many people, but then you supposed asmo had thousands of years to make friends. or maybe he hadn’t. there was also a surprising amount of humans at this party which lifted your spirits slightly: there would be something other than demonus here tonight. worming your way through the crowd, you found the bar, the bartenders all wearing paper masks with asmo’s smiling face on them. definitely weird, definitely on brand. asking asmo number five for something from the human realm, they poured you something pink and shimmery and you downed it in haste. it definitely was not champagne. but you couldn’t ignore the warmth and…..and confidence it was giving you. you asked for another.

♡ the ‘countdown to asmo day’ was projected on a screen behind the dj, ten minutes and fifty-four seconds. how long had you been here? this whole thing suddenly feels really funny. you start to giggle with a sparkly drink in your hand. hey when did you order this drink? hehe. it tasted sooooo good though maybe someone gave it to you with a smile because you looked sooo pretty tonight? hehe. well, you knew better than to drink an open drink anyway. you blinked slowly and staggered backwards bumping bodies with someone, not uncommon. giggling again you turned to apologize. oh! you found him! asmo! he had a wide eyed expression. “what’re you doing here? and like this too?” he gracefully stole the glass from your hand and smiled. “you look gorgeous” he added. hehe asmo was always so forward wasn’t he? you could smell demonus on him, but you really couldn’t tell he had been drinking at all. and what sort of question was that? what other reason could there be to go to an asmo party? that made him laugh in a way that made you swoon in a way you normally wouldn’t allow. maybe he hadn’t noticed maybe he had. asmo told you he was flattered you came this time after many many months of asking you to attend one. wishing you two had walked in together to turn heads and gain gasps from his audience. somehow you were just sober enough to roll your eyes at such a statement, but unable to tell if it was bass or butterflies in your stomach.

♡ the ‘asmo day’ timer ticked on minutes went by that he stood and talked with you. you don’t remember when he had taken your hand in the conversation, whether to steady or you because he liked doing so you didn’t have the mind to wonder. your drink still in his hand like an accessory. anger burned in your chest inexplicably—why was he down here talking with you? shouldn’t he have been on stage taking in the excitement when the asmo-faced ball dropped down the miniature tower? you had been shouting over the music all night, so maybe your tone hadn’t changed when you said this. asmo kept on smiling at you, but his eyes softened. “i really wish i would’ve known you were here tonight.” he had leaned into your ear to say that. something in your chest burned again. what the hell is that supposed to mean? and shouldn’t he be up there hosting his party. he leaned in again. as much as this is an asmo party, the majority of it is mostly, he said to you, for show—the humans; the incubi; the demons; those sneaky, sneaky angels; they weren’t here for asmodeus, but for what he represents: unadulterated and limitless access to their deepest desires. asmo always found himself being incredulously honest with you, and here he was telling you that it wasn’t him they desired, but the desire itself kept them drawn to him. you blinked hard and he laughed. “unfortunately there’s no one else in the devildom who can host a party like i can, after attending an asmo party every other party will feel like a five year old’s birthday,” he spoke while waving that glass on the air, the glitter in it spun but not a drop sloshed out. “and besides, i’ve already gotten everything i wanted out of this party about ten minutes ago.” his smile morphed into a smaller, more intimate one. you couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else got smiles like this or if it was just for you. that shimmery drink hadn’t given you the confidence to ask him that.

♡ asmo was impressive, maybe you were truly seeing it for the first time. the atmosphere was both lighthearted and intense. all the bodies around found ways to flirt with each other, touch each other, give each other knowing looks before sneaking out of the crowds. you had even noticed a larger amount of eyes on you than usual and, without meaning to humble or self deprecating, you knew it was an effect of the party: the secret wants of someone bubbling beneath the surface of their everyday life was brought beneath asmo’s moonlight, unclothed, inspected, and accepted. encouraged, even. he looked over his unruly crowd with a pleasure of his own, something almost paternal in his eyes. you called to him again. the countdown had begun from thirty. when asmo turned to look at you, you noticed the way he looked at you. innocent. not that he thought of you in that sense, but that he hadn’t looked at you with the intention of eating you up. maybe it was that drink, but this really annoyed you. the crowd calling numbers annoyed you, the way people came and went touching asmo’s arms and shoulders and waist annoyed you, the fact that he felt like babysitting you in the crowd instead of putting on a show on stage annoyed you. also the way he trusted you with his secrets was starting to annoy you. half teetering, you leaned into his chest hoping to press your lips against his and to your bewilderment, he pulled away biting his own intensely. “you don’t understand it,” he panted “but i’ve really, really been holding back. because it’s you.” the look in his eyes where the ones you had been longing for. the countdown concluded in a series of cheers and applause, the crowd all pulling the ones nearest to them into lust filled kisses. only you and asmo stood staring at each other. the energy, the smell, his hand in yours, the look on his face…you leaned once again and said “did you really think you were the only one?”

[kurosaaki]

nanami is such a girl dad i can’t explain it he just gives off those vibes

[captain-cold-approved]

im past 10k words in my 5 + 1 coldflash fic. i'm only done with the first two out of six scenarios. it's going SWELL.

[lazywerebat]

me every damn time im trying to search for some fluff x male! reader fic & i mostly found nsfw fics:

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

hiiii for ur consideration: meiri i drew on my work break

I am considering her. I have in fact considered everything about her and found it all perfect. Thank you, ma’am, I shall treasure this forever 🥹

[delicateartisantrash]

A comforting scene with Echo

There's fluff ahead. I hope you like it <3

<•>

Rain falls thunderous outside as you watch it batter the viewport of the Havoc Marauder's cockpit. You don't remember the name of the planet Tech rattled off hours ago before the ship left hyperspace. You've been to so many with them now, you don't always make an effort to keep track.

You do remember him telling you about the nasty weather, though, and you stare at its ferocity now while you tuck your knees up to your chest, stockinged feet braced up on the edge of the chair.

As pretty as it is with the strangely muffled lightning flashes illuminating everything in constant, flickering wash of silver-blue, it's keeping you from being able to take a walk outside and get some fresh air. The ship is stuffy, cramped to begin with and currently resident to seven people, including yourself. After how the mission for Cid went, you've had a particularly hard last few days, even if things ended up turning out alright.

The memories still sit with you, like an uneasy, cold fist of discomfort settled in the pit of your stomach.

Everyone else is asleep, like you should be. Your makeshift hammock hangs limp and empty at the end of the hall, strung just out of the way of Omega's room that takes up the gunner position. You can hear their soft snores and feel the quiet lull of dreaming people that hangs in the air.

One of them turns over in their bunk, judging by the soft creak and shuffle of fabric. When a metalic tink sounds off next, you wonder who got up, and reach out with a finger to push the console's edge and turn the chair.

A pale face immediately looks up at the movement of you peeking down the hall, and you see Echo sitting on the edge of his bunk, feet planted on the floor. The hull is barely illuminated to simulate night, small spots of brightness stationed periodically along the edges of the floor and significant corners. The lights glint dully on the edges of Echo's cybernetic implants.

He looks surprised to see you awake, leaning forward to be able to better see the empty hammock at the other end of the ship with a glance. You offer a tiny wave as Echo looks back, and aren't terribly surprised when the soldier quietly gets up. He takes care to move quietly down the ship, his mechanical limbs inaudible with the background noise of the Marauder's passive electronic systems that remain online even as you all sleep, and the less-so-passive ground security protocol that was engaged before lights out.

"Hey," you greet quietly, barely breathing the words. You know Echo will hear you, and though Hunter sleeps with earplugs, you always do your best to take extra care to not make noise when he's trying to sleep.

"Thought I was the only night-owl, after Tech," Echo answers just as softly, his left hand turning a chair by the backrest towards himself as he takes a seat, still looking at you. "Can't sleep?" he wonders.

You almost forget to vocalize your answer, too distracted studying the lines on his face, the slight stubble that's been growing in since his last shave yesterday, and the bags under his eyes.

"You don't look like you've slept a wink."

Echo's shoulders jump a little, like he's been caught doing something, and your heart tumbles over itself as he looks away. Though he's staring at some point off to the right and down, it doesn't hide the haunted look in his eyes.

Echo turns his elbows and splays his fingers like he's about to steeple his fingers together, only to go stiff when his only hand touches empty air. He straightens in his seat uncomfortably. You're burning to say something, do something, but he looks like he's working out what words to say. You give him all the time he needs to answer.

"A lot of things don't come as easy as they used to," Echo admits when he finds his voice. He doesn't meet your gaze, not even when you quietly say his name, until you stand up and take the few short steps to bring yourself to his side.

Warm, honey-gold eyes turned a pale silver by the flashes of lightning, finally meet yours. He looks so lost, more than you've ever seen let slip through his careful guard. Always keeping so busy, so focused, keeping ahead of his problems until they catch up at the end of the day when the world slows to a stop, and says it's time to sleep.

Your offer is silent; his acceptance is immediate, and Echo practically jumps out of his seat to accommodate.

You say nothing as his mechanical elbow digs into your softer ribs while you wrap your arms around his broad chest, which proves much more comfortable to hold without his armor on. The hard ridge of his artificial respiratory system's access unit presses uncomfortably against your chest, while his natural arm crosses behind your back.

Where his natural body presses against yours, he feels warm and solid. The metal provides a strange contrast of hard, cool ridges.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask, rubbing soothing circles on the man's back as he wraps himself around you, burying his face in your shoulder.

You feel his head shake an emphatic 'No,' as his grip tightens.

You make a soft noise of comfort, relaxing against him as you hug. Echo takes a deep, shuddering breath, then surprises you by speaking, after all.

"I saw them," he says in a hoarse whisper.

"Saw who?" you ask tentatively, when he doesn't immediately continue.

"All of them, every one on the field, in the trenches, my-- My brothers, my friends, e-everyone..." he whispers.

He's shaking harder, and something wet plops against your skin before sliding down your neck, raising goosebumps as it goes.

You don't know much about Echo.

You know he was rescued from something pretty awful, and you know it has something to do with his cybernetics, but more than that, you never felt it was proper for you to inquire about it.

You do so now, gently asking him questions, trying to gauge the scope of the issue and put things together in a cohesive story as he rattles off errant details in no particular order. Sometimes, he tells you about the face of a specific cloned brother he recognized before something happened to them.

Other times, Echo tells you something that makes bile rise in your throat, particularly when he says it so off-handedly, it's like he's trying to be flippant about it.

But you're not.

Your confusion of how he could have been in so many battles, so far apart, as you realize he's been naming different war fronts, finally drives you to ask point-blank what this 'Techno-Union' did to him that forced him to experience such awful things.

"They used me as a computer program to predict battle algorithms; they're the ones who installed my hardware."

It's the most clear his quiet voice has been this entire conversation, wrapped up in your arms in the cockpit as he lets his hidden wounds bleed clean, and you have an immediate gut-punching suspicion that the even tone of voice comes less from calm, and more from a fierce detachment of what he's even speaking about. Like saying the words in such a simple, understated way can make what happened less horrific, less raw.

You let him straighten as he suddenly loosens his grip on you to lift his head up. Having assumed that Echo's eyes would be far away and distant like earlier, you're caught off guard by their intensity as he studies your face with concern.

You're not the one who jus--

You jump when his thumb brushes against your cheek, swiping away a tear.

"I'm sorry," he says gently, voice cracking. "I shouldn't have unloaded so much on you, you don't have--"

"Shut up," you whisper, more eloquent words failing you in your hasty need to stop him from withdrawing. "It's okay, Echo. I'm--" you stutter, realizing his hand is still on your cheek.

Echo's eyes drop fractionally, and quite suddenly, the small, private atmosphere of the cockpit you'd been sharing takes on a whole new weight and depth.

"I'm... I'm just so horrified at what they did you you," you finish, but your voice is trailing off as Echo's gaze doesn't shift. He doesn't answer you for several long, agonizing moments, and you feel your cheeks start to warm when he deliberately brushes his thumb against your cheek again, taking his time to trace the features of your face. His hand shifts, scooting a little further over your neck as long, strong fingers cup the shape of you.

"You never told me why you couldn't sleep tonight," Echo murmurs, clearly ready to change the subject. He's standing strong and confident again, a powerful posture you've noticed seems born and bred into him and all his brothers, and your heart does this funny flip. He's been baring his heart to you and unloading his burdens for some time, so you have almost -- almost -- zero inclination to encourage him to keep talking.

It's not something that can all come out in a single sitting.

"I, uh...."

You like the change in his eyes as they practically shine with a slightly deviant gleam to them, and a small smile tugs at Echo's lips, before drawing itself across his handsome features.

"You, uh...?" Echo repeats, his smile growing wider.

"Yeah," you answer on reflex, blushing harder with embarrassment as Echo's eyes dance with laughter.

You can't even be mad about your own squirming; it's so nice to see him looking happy again, especially after the sorrow and grief you just watched him struggle through, and know he still holds heavy on his shoulders.

"I mean," you stammer, just barely remembering to keep your voice hushed for Hunter's sake, "that I, um, yeah, I have trouble sleeping sometimes. I get... cold," you hedge.

Maker, you're not going to try and explain to him that you just have a hard time sleeping alone in bed, when you grew up used to puppy-piling with your four younger siblings and, later, your Vekolves, two over-enthusiastically protective canines you'd raised from puppies. You still miss the weight of their warm, scaley bodies cuddling up to you at night.

"Cold?" the soldier questions, furrowing his brows. The ship is kept at a constant, even temperature.

You have no idea how Echo sorts it out, but maybe something shows on your face as you glance down the hallway towards your lonely hammock, because his eyes suddenly soften.

Or, maybe he's just been overhearing you talk with Omega about your life before joining the Bad Batch, because he nails it right on the head.

"Miss your family?" he asks quietly.

"...yeah," you admit, looking down. You let him tip your chin back up, and take in his breathtaking smile. "I've never been good at sleeping alone."

He just revealed wounds to you that no one should ever have to suffer in the first place, and here he is smiling at you so warm and gently.

"I've got an idea," Echo suggests. Though that earnest warmth remains, you catch a sudden mischievous cast to his expressive features. "Come on."

You think he means 'come closer,' so you step towards him, but he moves at the same time you do, dropping his hand to your shoulder before he slides his fingers down your arm, and wraps them around your wrist. Echo leads you down the narrow aisle, where his brothers sleep on their bunks.

You cast a long glance at Hunter as you slip past, noting with relief the soft, audible snores and his peaceful, sleeping expression.

Echo stops at his bunk, lets go of your arm, then gently places his hand to your back, fingers splayed as he gestures with his scomp-link prosthetic.

"Space enough for two?" he suggests, not quite hiding the hopeful sound in his voice.

<•>

Hunter opens his eyes with a jerk to consciousness that momentarily disorientates him, his gaze immediately looking towards the source of disturbance that yanked him from a rare, good dream.

Something about Omega and Wrecker playing a game in some sunny field, far from the war and strife strewn through the galaxy.

He blinks, not sure he's seeing things right, then nearly sits up with surprise as he registers that, yes, he is seeing right, and that's an Echo curled up in his bunk, sound asleep, with you wrapped in his arms and snoring like an asthmatic bantha on his chest.

Hunter stares at you both.

He's never heard you snore. Not once.

And he's never heard Echo's heartbeat sound so utterly peaceful, a low, gentle thrum that harmonizes with the idle whirr of his prosthetics. More than that, is the way the soldier's face has for the first time since joining their team, relaxed into something truly peaceful.

So peaceful, there's actually a little bit of drool escaping from Echo's slack jaw where his lips part a bit, and Hunter smirks, wondering how you'll react to the wet spot on your hair in -- he frees an arm from the blankets to check his wrist -- less than an hour.

Warm floods his chest as he smiles, taking in the scene for a few moments longer, before he drops his head back onto his pillow and sighs deeply.

With less deliberation that perhaps he should be using, Hunter gives in, and lifts his vambrace up to tap a few buttons.

Two more hours, a generous enough gift as he saves the new alarm setting, then rolls over to go back to sleep.

[sollucets]

look at that !

[yuujispinkhair]

Boyfie Sukuna in your bed in the morning

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Lots of fluff. 300 words. Minors don't interact. Divider by @/ioveartfilm

You wake up to the sound of loud purring, and when you turn around, you see your cat cuddling with your boyfriend Sukuna.

Sukuna's lying on his side, shirtless and still asleep. The blanket is pushed down to his hips, revealing his muscular arms and defined abs. And your cat has gotten comfy in those strong tattooed arms and is snuggling happily against Sukuna's naked chest.

You smile and quickly grab your phone from your nightstand to snap a picture. You love seeing Sukuna like this. Those secret moments in your bed where he is all unguarded and soft. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when he begins to stir and slowly opens his eyes, his gaze instantly finding you.

You smile fondly at him and whisper,

"Hey, baby."

Sukuna's voice sounds even lower than usual when he answers you, a bit raspy from sleep. Sexy and cute at the same time.

"Hmm, princess. What are you doing?"

Your smile grows and you snap another picture.

"I need a new lock screen, so smile for the camera, ok baby?"

Sukuna huffs softly, but his catlike eyes are warm when he looks directly into your camera. His large hand carefully cups your cat's small head, scratching behind her ears as her purring grows even louder.

A lazy, sleepy smile spreads over Sukuna's tattooed face, and your heart flutters. He looks so beautiful with that soft, sleepy smile, his beautiful maroon eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep and his pastel pink hair ruffled.

This is a version of Sukuna that only you get to see. The bad boy all soft and cute in your bed. Domesticated, just like the cat purring in his arms.

I NEED HIM! :(( Soft Sukuna in the morning makes me so weak!! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed your morning with Kuna, too ;)

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"