#curry wc

[lemnnshark]

"Curry is a brown tabby she-cat."

[rosemist50]

Part one of Ivypool's Heart cats! Spoilers under the cut:

First up is Galestar of Stormclan, formerly of Windclan. She might be one of my new favorite leaders y'all... I put her and Stripestar's unnamed kits here, bc I figured any content made of Galestar would at least include her first litter as well. The hair and tail are supposed to be curled at the ends there, it was difficult for me to draw it so hopefully it translates lol. Next is Stripestar of Stormclan, formerly of Thunderclan, and Rosebush who might be named Shadebush? Idk, I went with Rosebush since that's what the wiki has. Rosebush was Thunderclan before Stormclan. Then Whitebreeze and Swiftwing, who were both Windclan before Stormclan. All of them with living eyes even though we only see them in Starclan. Next up is Slate and Beach, sons of Flurry from the Sisters. Beach has a scar on his flank from the infected wound. Y'all don't even know how disappointed I was to read that he was a dark tabby, I was so sad, I had a sand-colored design drawn up before I had even gotten the book :( At least I could bring over the fluffy hair tuft and freckles. After them is hostile kittypet gang No. 200; Pumpernickel, Zeke, and Curry. And finally is Jake the Other One, and Sweetums, whom Tempest was said to take a liking to. Jake wasn't described with a fish hook earring, but I wanted to give him a little something extra to help differentiate him more from the expansive list of black and white cats. It was going to be a crab claw at first, but I changed it.

[batglare101]

JusticeClan founders' origin (half of them)

It's about time I give you guys lore!! these are the backstories for Superstar, Batglare, Greenspark, and Aquashine. I didn't do the rest because I'm still figuring things out for them!

▾ Superstar's origin Superstar was born as Kal to Lara and Jorel. They lived among many other wild cats in a group they call The Kryptons. Not long after Kal's birth, their forested territory was invaded by reckless twolegs (humans) who ended up burning down their home, leading to the deaths of many cats. Lara and Jorel, both injured from the fire, ran away from the forest with Kal. Finding themselves too weak to care for their kit, they left Kal in a cornfield and left to find a place to lay themselves to rest. Shortly after, a twoleg couple found Kal and decided to adopt him, giving him the name Clark.

Clark grew up as a kittypet, unknowing of his wild origins. One day, he left the twoleg nest to venture out into the woods — the one where The Kryptons used to live in many moons ago. There he found evidence of his kin, along with the skeletons of his parents. Lara and Jorel had returned back to their camp when the forest fire subsided, deciding to die on Krypton grounds.

Jorel's spirit descended and showed himself to Clark. He tells him his destiny and that is to become leader of a clan — not to continue The Kryptons, but to start something new. He convinces Clark to leave his kittypet life behind for clan life, renaming him Superheart. At the time, twolegs were causing destruction to the forest, and it was then he met the rest of the founders where he was chosen to lead the newly-formed JusticeClan. Jorel guided Superheart, along with Mimicstalk who accompanied him, to the Moonshards (this version of Moonstone from the warriors books). Superheart was granted nine lives and was renamed Superstar. Despite clan status, Superstar continues to visit his twoleg parents.

Kal ⇀ Clark ⇀ Superheart ⇀ Superstar

▾ Batglare's origin Batglare was born as Bruce to Martha and Thomas. They were the pets of a wealthy twoleg family known as the Waynes. One day, when Bruce was 3 moons old, he and his parents snuck out of the mansion they lived in to explore the city. On their way back home, they were ambushed by a stray cat who ended up killing Thomas and Martha, leaving Bruce orphaned. Blinded with fear and grief, Bruce fled into the forest nearby and proceeded to live there for 4 days until Alfred, another pet of the wealthy twoleg family and a close friend to Bruce's parents, found him and took him back home. He raised Bruce and became his father.

The deaths of his parents made Bruce an advocate for justice. He yearned to help others who have gone through similar unfairness in life. Near his adolescence he left his home to be mentored by various notorious cats, introducing himself as "Vengeance" to those he met. The onslaught of training made him a skilled hunter and fighter, as well as in other fields such as swimming, herbalism, etc.

He meets Superstar (Superheart at the time) and while he was untrusting of him, he opened up with time and they became extremely close. Together they met the rest of the founders and formed JusticeClan. Bruce took on the name Batglare. He was the JusticeClan's deputy for a bit before shortly resigning from the role after realizing he can't always provide for the clan. He became an on-and-off member.

He spends most of his time in the wild but he occasionally comes back to the Wayne's mansion to be with Alfred and their housefolks.

Bruce ⇀ Vengeance ⇀ Batglare

▾ Greenspark's origin Greenspark was born as Hal to Martin and Jess, two loner cats who lived near an airport. Jess had passed away due to an unspecified event which lead young Hal to be closer to his father. Martin and his friends believed that the sky monsters (airplanes) would take them to a whole different place much farther away from their territory after seeing twolegs travel with them. One day, Martin snuck onto a fighter jet, and while Hal wanted to go with him, he was instructed to stay on ground.

When the sky monster took off, there was a malfunction that lead to it crashing down and exploding, with Martin being caught in it. Hal had witnessed everything and it haunted him for the rest of his life.

When he got older, he moved away from the sky monster place. He never felt comfortable living near sky monsters again after seeing what happened to his father. He remained alone for a while until he meets Greenlight (Alan Scott). They got to know each other and became friends. Greenlight introduced himself as the leader of the Green Lights Colony, a clan of cats who run on the power of will and bravery. He invites Hal to join him, to which he does, bearing the new name Greenspark. With the colony's influence, Greenspark became a strong cat. He became one of the colony's best warriors.

Later on, he meets Superstar and the rest of the founders and assisted them in making JusticeClan exist. He became one of them, but he knew being in two groups was a bad idea. Ultimately, he realizes his heart belonged to the Green Lights Colony. Despite it all he always makes sure to stay and hang out with his JusticeClan friends. It was hard, but nevertheless, he manages to balance his time with the Colony and JusticeClan.

Hal ⇀ Greenspark

▾ Aquashine's origin Aquashine was born as Arthur to Tom and an unknown she-cat. He grew up on the beach with his father and had no recollection of who his mother was. The only thing Tom said about her was that she was strong and regal, and had gone missing when Arthur was young. Tom raised Arthur alone, training him and preparing him for his future.

Moons went by. Arthur became aware of his oddity. He was bigger than an average cat, his fur had a weird silk-like texture, and his tail was thinned at it's tip like that of an alligator's. He asked Tom about why he was different and his father finally came clean. His mother was Atlanna, the then queen of the Atlantis Kingdom; a clan considered ancient, and with cats who formed traits to withstand their sea environment. Arthur was frustrated at Tom for keeping this a secret, but they ultimately made up.

A rogue going by the name of Black Manta suddenly appeared one day. He met Arthur and Tom, claiming that he was a member of the Atlantis Kingdom and had come to take Arthur back to their kingdom by the order of Atlanna. Tom knew the cat was lying and could sense malicious intent, thus confronting him about it. The situation escalated. Refusing to have harm be put in his son's way, Tom was severely injured after he intervened in the attempted murder of Arthur. In his final moments, he requested that if Arthur ever reunited with Atlanna, he'd tell her how much he loved her. Tom soon succumbed to blood loss.

Arthur lived alone on the beach since then, his heart full of hatred and grief for his late father. He got fed up, and he became hellbent on searching for the Atlantis Kingdom. During his search, he met Mera and Vulko. The two were Atlantis Kingdom cats who were on the search for the son of Atlanna, who was of course, Arthur. They told him that he was the answer to the current crisis of their kingdom, who was now run by Orm, Arthur's half-brother, after he had killed Atlanna. Arthur was heartbroken that his chances of meeting his mother were ripped away, and he wasn't able to fulfill his father's wish. Regardless, this made him determined to rule the kingdom and avenge Atlanna.

On the way to the Atlantis Kingdom territory, they stumbled across the newly-formed JusticeClan (Superstar, Batglare, Greenspark, Runningheart, Wonderstrike, and Mimicstalk) and they agreed to help with their mission. They worked together to take down Orm and his supporters. Arthur got into a battle with Orm and Black Manta, who turned out to be working for him the whole time. Despite the struggle, Arthur came out on top and manages to overthrow his half-brother, becoming king of the Atlantis cats.

Arthur was offered a place in JusticeClan by Superstar. He accepts, but warns him that he won't be able to be there for the clan due to the amount of duties he has now as king. Superstar took it well, suggesting he'd be called Aquashine, but it was his choice whether or not to change his name because of their clashing cultures. Regardless, Arthur took a liking to the name, and he is now King Aquashine of the Atlantis Kingdom.

Arthur ⇀ Aquashine/King Aquashine

Feel free to ask questions! It helps me build on the lore surrounding my AU!

[lovesick-joey]

made some symbols! pretty badly made but it's good enough. and also a bit of lore at the bottom :)

The Green Lights Colony, The Amazons, Atlantis Kingdom, and BatClan.

The Green Lights Colony — a group of cats who live in a mountainous area. They worship and believe in the entity known as Ion. The cats of Green Lights Colony tend to wear leaves on their fur to represent their group and their love for nature and of course, Ion. They always use the prefix Green in their names (ex. Greenspark, Greenheart, Greenfang)

The Amazons — a group of cats consisting of only she-cats. None of the toms are allowed to stay past kittenhood (They're basically like The Sisters, from the actual Warrior Cats series). Some cats who are in their group may have the ability to see and speak with their ancestors. The cats in this group are powerful fighters, and they're usually larger and stronger than the average cat. Their camp resides on a small island, which they call Themyscira.

Atlantis Kingdom — a group of cats who live by the ocean, most notably inside a spacious cove. They live as a monarchy, being ruled by a king and queen. They are excellent swimmers and have the ability to remain underwater for quite some time, due to their ancestors who have evolved to withstand and tolerate their environment.

BatClan — an unofficial clan of cats who have an association with Batglare (Batman). As Batglare's family grew bigger, his first adoptive son, Nightwing, had suggested they put a title to their family, and thus the name BatClan was chosen (note: Batglare and the rest of the batfam are on-and-off members of JusticeClan, like Aquashine and Greenspark are. They're basically half loners). BatClan cats are sneaky and have excellent night vision. Their camp is inside a dark cave near twoleg place.

JusticeClan — a group of cats who live deep in the woods. Founded by Superstar, Batglare, Wonderstrike, Mimicstalk, Runningheart, Greenspark, and Aquashine—the cats had created the clan during a time when twolegs were invading the forest and were destroying wildlife. JusticeClan are a mainly peaceful clan who are known to take in outsider cats who are in need of help and/or shelter. The cats of JusticeClan are powerful, courageous, and not afraid to take risks—they are the only known cats who are brave enough to fight twolegs. JusticeClan are greatly respected by other large groups of cats, but their notoriety also draws in bad apples who want to get rid of them.

it was pretty difficult to translate dc lore into warrior cats but it's what i signed up for. sorry if there were any grammar issues!! I'm not a native english speaker. if you want to ask questions please do it in the ask box

Batfam || batman rogues || Young Justice

justice league... warrior cats... *I whisper into your ear before collapsing to the ground*

[manariee]

SPOILED ROTTEN

﹙生日男孩﹚───── birthday boy taking full advantage

박종성 & fem!reader wc: 349 💌 cw: established relationship, skinship 𝓜 anas notes: happy (late) jay day !!

Sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting soft lines across Jay's bare back, and the faint sound of the city outside the window. You're already awake, lying next to him, chin propped on your hand as you study the slow rise and fall of his chest. His birthday. Your favorite day.

You reach out and gently brush a strand of hair off his forehead. He stirs a little, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

"Morning birthday boy," you whisper with a grin.

Jay groans, burying his face deeper into the pillow. “Too early.”

You giggle. “It's past ten.”

“Still too early,” he mumbles, voice muffled. Then he turns his head, eyes cracking open—soft brown, still heavy with sleep. “Unless you’re the first present.”

You laugh, rubbing your hands against his warm toned back. “That’s one way to open the day.”

Jay shifts closer, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his warmth. “Best birthday already.”

“You haven’t even seen what I planned,” you say, fingers drawing lazy shapes on his chest.

He kisses your forehead, murmuring against your skin, “Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough.”

But oh he hadn't seen what you did have planned. The cake you had hidden for two days, an overly expensive small guitar keychain with your anniversary engraved, candlelit dinner with his favorite Japanese curry.

Still, in this moment, wrapped up in sleepy limbs and quiet affection, it hits you: you could give Jay the world, and he'd still choose this—you, just being here.

You smile and whisper, “I’m all yours today.”

He tightens his hold, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before grinning against your collarbone. “Best. Gift. Ever.”

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @fleurhoons

[norrisradio]

SMALL TALK

LINE BY LINE ᝰ.ᐟ “one night he wakes / strange look on his face / pauses, then says / “you’re my best friend” / and you knew what it was / he is in love” + “Morning, his place / burnt toast, Sunday / you keep his shirt / he keeps his word” - Taylor Swift, You Are In Love

ᝰ PAIRING: oscar piastri x reader | ᝰ WC: 1.7K ᝰ GENRE: strangers-to-friends-to-????, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and other disasters, oscar piastri is a man on a mission ᝰ INCOMING RADIO: my first time dabbling in some mixed media (feat. texts, voice notes, and facetimes)! not entirely happy with it but hopefully it makes sense // sorry for disappearing i am back now i swear ꨄ requested by @princesspiastri007 !

send me an ask for my line by line event .ᐟ

Oscar Piastri ruins your life in a bakery line on a Tuesday.

You’re clutching your paper cup like a lifeline, half-hypnotized by the scent of cardamom buns and the threadbare sweater slung over your frame — navy, elbow-patched, fraying at the seams. It was your dad’s. Maybe even his dad’s. Handed down like a secret. You only wear it on soft days. The kinds that ask for warmth and not much else.

Then someone knocks into you from behind, and the tea goes flying.

A sharp breath. The hiss of liquid on wool.

You freeze. He freezes.

“Shit — God, I’m so sorry.”

The voice is breathless and kind of pretty. You look up, prepared to launch into an eloquent string of swears, but the apology is already in his face. He looks young. Startled. Dimples carved into his cheeks like a question mark.  A lanky frame, messy hair, and a voice that sounds like Sunday morning. And behind him, some tall blonde girl in sunglasses (who you’ll later learn is Hattie, his sister) gives a wince-laugh and says, “Nice one, Oz.”

You look down. The sweater is ruined.

“That’s not just a sweater,” you whisper, throat tight. And somehow, that matters more than yelling.

The stranger — Oscar, apparently — blinks. “Wait — wait, is it special? Oh God. Please let me fix it.”

That’s how it starts: a burnt-sugar Tuesday and a ruined heirloom.

He buys you another tea. Apologizes twenty-seven times. Offers you his hoodie while you shiver on the bakery bench. It smells like laundry detergent and something citrusy, like a life that doesn’t belong to you. When you say he doesn’t need to do anything else, he frowns like you’ve insulted him.

“No. I swear — I’ll find a way to replace it.”

You scoff. “What, are you gonna time travel to the '80s?”

He grins. “Not quite. But I travel a lot. I’ll find one like it. You’ll see.”

It’s a joke. You think it’s a joke.

Until he’s in Spain two weeks later, and you get a photo of a sweater from a vintage shop in Barcelona:

from: +61 *** *** *** [Attachment: 1 Image] from: +61 *** *** *** Closer? Still hunting.

Then he’s in Canada. Silverstone. Budapest. Portugal.

from: +61 *** *** *** [Attachment: 1 Image - a blurry photo of a sweater, tagged €35 ] from: +61 *** *** *** Found a jumper in Lisbon. Not quite the right navy, but it has the elbow patches.

to: +61 *** *** *** you don’t have to keep doing this, yk 

from: +61 *** *** *** I know. I want to.

Each time, a picture. A patch. A different shade of blue. An “Almost.” 

You hadn’t expected it to become a thing.

You hadn’t expected him to become a thing.

But there’s a moment, three weeks later, when you're eating leftover curry on the floor of your apartment and your phone lights up with a voice memo. You hesitate. Press play.

Hey. I know it’s probably stupid but I found one in Tokyo today that kinda reminded me of the shape of yours. Didn’t get it though. The color was off. But I thought about you.

There’s a pause. You can hear wind. Traffic. And then:

Anyway. Just wanted to say hi.

You play it twice. Then a third time.

You don’t respond for an hour because you don’t know how to say, you’ve been living in my head since Tuesday.

The voice memos turn into calls. Almost by accident at first. One missed message becomes a call back, and before you know it, you’re dialing his number like muscle memory.

You start calling him after work, when the sky is the color of chamomile tea and the streets hum with the soft ache of winding down. He answers from hotel rooms, his voice low and warm, surrounded by the soft rustle of sheets or the faint murmur of unfamiliar cities outside his window. Sometimes you hear the buzz of neon. The clatter of luggage. The echo of a TV in the next room.

It becomes routine. Sacred, even. A ritual made of static and silence and shared space.

He listens when you talk about your family, about the sweater, about how you’ve always had trouble letting go of things that feel like home. Your voice goes soft when you tell him how your dad used to wear it on cold Sunday mornings, how it always smelled faintly of espresso and cedar. How you kept it on the back of your chair even after he passed.

There’s a pause.

And then: “That makes sense,” Oscar says, quiet enough that you almost miss it. “You feel... anchored. Even when everything else isn’t.”

You blink.

No one’s ever put it like that before.

You want to laugh. Or cry. Or tell him that he’s the first person in months who hasn’t made you feel like you’re too much. Too sentimental. Too attached to the past.

Instead, you murmur, “I like the sound of that.”

“Of what?”

“Being anchored.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his smile through the phone. That small, secret one you’ve learned to hear in the silence between words.

And when you hang up, well past midnight, your chest is full of something unfamiliar.

Melbourne - 00:42 / Sao Paulo - 11:42

Oscar’s face is sideways on your screen. He’s lying on a hotel bed, hair a mess, thumb under his cheek like he fell asleep on his own hand.

“I’ve seen twenty sweaters today,” he mumbles. “All of them were wrong.”

You smile, half-asleep yourself. “You’re a menace.”

“I’m determined.”

“Obsessed, maybe.”

He grins. “That too.”

There’s a long silence. Not awkward. Just full.

You whisper, “Why does it matter so much?”

He looks at you like he’s trying to read something written in a language only you speak.

“I think,” he says slowly, “because it mattered to you.”

Melbourne - 10:48 / Monza - 02:48

I found a vendor near the paddock today who hand-knits sweaters. Said she doesn’t repeat patterns but she can make something inspired by yours. I asked her how long it’d take. She said six months. I told her I’d wait.

There’s a long pause.

I don’t think this is about the sweater anymore. 

The FaceTimes start to stretch longer.  Past midnight. Into morning. Sometimes you wake up to a dead phone, his face still ghosting your dreams. He tells you what the gravel in Bahrain smells like. You tell him about your mother’s lasagna recipe. He starts sending you pictures of things that have nothing to do with sweaters.

The sea. His breakfast. A dog in the crowd with a bandana that says Team Oscar. His knees pressed up against the seat in a too-small plane.

You start recognizing hotel ceilings. The texture of his voice when he’s tired. The sound of his toothbrush.

You don’t talk about what it is. But you know.

You fall asleep with your phone tipped sideways, face half offscreen, mouth slack. Oscar snaps a screenshot once (you find it later in a photo dump he sends, sandwiched between two blurry shots of the Monza pitlane and one of a knitwear rack in Milan).

You’re in bed, face crinkled into your pillow.

from: +61 *** *** *** [Attachment: 4 Images] from: +61 *** *** *** I like this one best. 

Melbourne - 03:23 / Abu Dhabi 21:23

from: +61 *** *** *** You awake?

You blink at the screen, the dim glow of your phone painting soft light across your face.

You shouldn’t be awake. You weren’t. Not really.

to: +61 *** *** *** only if you need me to be 

from: +61 *** *** *** always. 

You stare at it for a beat too long. Something in your chest tightens.

No FaceTime this time. Just voice. Just the warmth of him spilling through the speaker like something secret.

“Hi,” he says, a little breathless. Like he’d been pacing. Like he still is.

“You okay?” you ask, voice scratchy with sleep.

A silence. Not heavy. Just full.

Then: “It’s stupid.”

“Try me.”

Another pause, this one longer. Then he sighs, and it sounds like the beginning of a confession.

“I was at dinner. Team stuff. Everyone talking, laughing, and it was fine. It was good. But then I thought of something you said — about how your dad used to cut his toast diagonally, like it made it taste better.”

You laugh, soft. “Because it does.”

He smiles. You can hear it. But then his voice shifts. Warmer. Quieter.

“And I wanted to tell you. Just that. Just... share that moment with you. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to call. Even though it was nothing. Even though it was everything.”

Your fingers twist in the hem of your blanket. “Oscar-”

He exhales, quiet static against your cheek. “It just– it made me realize something.” 

You hear him shift again, maybe run a hand through his hair. When he speaks next, his voice is quieter. Barely above a whisper.

“I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he says it — it’s not casual. Not flippant. It lands somewhere low in your chest, blooming slow and steady.

You don’t answer right away.

Because the truth is, you already knew. You’d known for a while now, tucked in the space between time zones and half-laughed voicemails. In the way your day doesn’t feel finished until you’ve heard his voice.

Still, you make a soft sound into the receiver. “I know,” you say, because anything more might break it.

He breathes out a laugh. You can hear him relax, like he was bracing for something bigger.

“I should let you sleep.”

“You should.”

But neither of you hang up.

You don’t say anything else that night. Just let the silence stretch between you like soft thread, pulled taut. Your hand stays curled around the phone long after the call ends, thumb brushing the screen like it might still be warm from his voice. 

And later, when you’re making toast in his kitchen for the first time and burn it so badly the alarm goes off, you both laugh like idiots, wheezing and barefoot. 

You keep his hoodie. He lets you. You wear it when he’s gone. You send him a photo of it hanging beside the ruined sweater, like they’re twin relics of something that matters now. 

He keeps his word. 

He never finds the same sweater. 

But somehow, you stop minding.

Oscar can’t look at a knit sweater without thinking of you, and maybe that’s the best kind of curse—a soft one, stitched with love, pulling him home.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL! ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. do you have what it takes to be a pokemon master? step right up; start your adventure to become the greatest pokemon master of all time!

CHARACTERS. albedo, arataki itto, childe, diluc, gorou, hu tao, kaedehara kazuha, kaeya, kamisato ayaka, kujou sara, raiden shogun, sangonomiya kokomi, scaramouche, thoma, traveler (aether & lumine), venti, yae miko, yoimiya, zhongli

CONTENT. gn!reader. pokemon au. comedy, fluff. 2.1k wc. rewrite of gotta catch ‘em all! at my old main blog @/verxsyon. original was written before wanderer’s release, hence why he’s referred to as scaramouche. mentions of accidental arson by a pokemon (yoimiya).

VERA. oh, lookie. another pokemon au with another fandom. best memory with this song is when i went to amber liu’s concert in 2020 and it was at the end of her set list. my friend and i are huge pokemon fans, and we screamed out the entire song to the point we lost our voices the next day. fun times ten out of ten.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ALBEDO

an artist whose paintings are framed in numerous museums around the nation. albedo has trouble finding a subject for his next piece to place in the cathedral. while searching for mondstadt’s gym leader, his smeargle asks you on his behalf to help him out. you’re the nearest person around the area, and the pokemon exposes his hesitancy to ask you because he’s stunned by your appearance. you’re confused, but with your permission, you become his inspiration. as thanks, he acts as your tour guide.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARATAKI ITTO

more or less your rival. he’s always the first trainer to challenge you to a battle as soon as you earn a gym badge, and he does it very annoyingly - one might add. itto thinks he’s all that, bragging that he’ll crush the elite four and the champion in one go with his best buddy, tauros. while he’s at it, he bets he can crush you too. but his arrogance gets the best of him when you won. the next time the two of you battle again, he swears that he won’t go easy on you.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DILUC

a guide and bartender from the flying-type gym. diluc is assigned by the leader to serve drinks to challengers - as well as the gym leader himself. his talonflame is his best friend, but unfortunately he can’t help due to being used for the gym challenge. he’d rather battle someone instead of being behind the counter all day, so you suggest being his opponent. he doesn’t expect you to be so mischievous, similar to the leader, devising a plan to kidnap his partner. to your surprise, he agrees with it.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. GOROU

a trainer who frequently hikes the mountains to train with his lycanroc (dusk form). you meet the duo when your partner smells curry from his campsite. gorou is very kind to let you stay for the night, seeing that it’s getting dark and no town in sight. before departing in the morning, he warns you about the dangers you’ll face en route and says you and your partner are welcome to hang out with him anytime. when you earn the electric-type badge, you’ll celebrate with a feast full of curry.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. HU TAO

a trainer raised by mediums and fascinated with urban legends. hu tao is investigating the truth of those legends with her chandelure. seeing that you got lost in the totally not haunted forest that leads to the next gym, she proposes to join her investigation on the rumors of ghosts in the area. in return, she will give you tips on how to beat the gym leader. she habitually pranks people for fun, so you have a hard time believing that whatever she says is the truth.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

a transfer student and your classmate at the pokemon academy. you feel sorry for kaedehara kazuha because he has to deal with you copying his notes every single day. that’s what you get for sleeping a lot in class. for someone who sits at the back of the class, his sawsbuck (autumn) is an attention seeker, annoying the poor guy with its antlers until he sends it back into its poké ball. apparently it doesn’t like you because his partner spends more time watching you sleep with hearts in his eyes.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEYA

a famous pokemon coordinator. everyone expects kaeya to participate in the biggest pokemon contest of the year, with a purpose to celebrate his victory against the city’s gym leader. he thrives off excitement, so upon hearing that you, the future champion, is among the crowd, he wants to make sure the whole world knows you’re the real deal. at the peak of the competition, he sends his weavile to invite you onstage and challenges you in a battle as an excuse to flirt with you in front of millions.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAMISATO AYAKA

co-heir of the kamisato hotel chain. her older brother rarely stays at the penthouse due to business trips, so kamisato ayaka manages logistics in his stead. she’s rarely outside, but when she does, she’s with her glaceon at the boutiques shopping for new clothes. you happen to be at the same boutique as her, having a hunch that she’s a prominent figure in society. the two of you accidentally switch bags when passing by each other, but luckily it’s a minor issue. once it’s resolved, she quickly leaves.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KUJOU SARA

the daughter of a flying taxi pilot who was captured by the fatui with his pokemon. kujou sara is in the business with her corviknight. she wants to thank you for rescuing her family by giving you free access to the taxi anytime, anywhere. however, you feel embarrassed for contacting her on a daily basis because you never learned how to ride a bike. but the thing is, she already knows your secret, picking up on it very early. you did her a huge favor, so she doesn’t mind teaching you.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. RAIDEN SHOGUN

the electric-type gym leader and mayor of the “city of eternity”. married to her work, the raiden shogun is out of touch with the modern world. her gym staff, especially her morpeko, are concerned that she never has time for herself, so they ask you to keep her away from her office for the day. she’s confused, but agrees to go on a date with you. dango and light novels surprise you about her character - the sweetest person you’ll ever meet on the inside.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI

a trainer who you first encounter at victory road. sangonomiya kokomi is sightseeing there and appears more than happy to accompany you until her destination. with her and her sylveon, double battles aren’t difficult to breeze through. at the exit of the cave, she asks for a battle to test out your strength. one hell of a strategist, however you’re quick to target her weak spots and win. she says that next time, she won't go easy on you at the league. that’s what a member of the elite four would say.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SCARAMOUCHE

a random trainer who you accidentally hit when catching pokemon. the boy named scaramouche roasts your terrible aim and exaggerates that he could’ve gotten a brain injury. you’re a relatively new trainer, so he does pity you and demonstrates how to throw properly. he then offers you to spar with his gengar because the pokemon ahead are super strong and your team should be fully prepared by then, but he won’t admit that to save himself the hassle for the future.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA

a commander of an evil organization, tasked to handle overseas matters with his wailord. the men in his division steal pokemon from trainers to discourage them from continuing on with their journey. his lax nature is what makes him struggle to get everything under control. luckily, you’re there to save the day. impressed by your heroism, tartaglia wants to hire you as his assistant, but of course, you outright refuse. he says the offer still stands, but you turn him down every single time.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. THOMA

the director of housekeeping in the kamisato hotel chain and bodyguard of the kamisato family with his arcanine. you heard that the hotels offer trainers to work as attendants for handsome pay, so you desperately go there to make your wallet thick again. you’re assigned to room service, being taught the basics of vacuuming floors and fixing beds. sometimes thoma goes off tangent, talking about his boss and his habit of feeding him odd dishes, which is quite concerning.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TRAVELER

the professor’s assistant who assists you in completing the pokèdex. the first meeting with the traveler starts off with you showing how you use your pokemon partner for battle, who then realizes that it’s from the lab and accuses you for robbery and trespassing. the argument gets heated to the point where the professor had to step in and let you explain. after consulting with the professor, they become your travel buddy along with their minun (aether) or plusle (lumine) to help you on your journey.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. VENTI

a flying-type gym leader stationed in mondstadt and classical musician. as a hobby, venti plays windtrace with the citizens, which influenced the layout of his challenge. to battle against him, you have to avoid getting caught by his altaria. barely anyone passes because he's known to fool people constantly, so they never know what tricks he has up his sleeve. when you manage to win both the game and the battle, he shows up at your hotel that night, serenading you for good luck.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. XIAO

a trainer who works for the rock-type gym leader. loyal to a fault, xiao is determined to not let anyone get past him. staying true to his word, his tyranitar is very difficult to defeat, but you won’t let that stop you from getting the badge. his partner knocks out your team in one hit, sending you out for a rematch. on the way back to the gym, he got ambushed by “treasure hoarders”, a group who steals badges for a living, and you beat them up. from that moment, you earn his respect.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. YAE MIKO

the owner of the city’s publishing house and a friend of the electric-type gym leader. her guilty pleasure is teasing young trainers that she knows their deepest, darkest secrets. they become terrified, never to be seen in the city again. you agree that yae miko is terrifying because of how both she and her delphox carry themselves. it seems that you’re an exception, having the guts to charm her with your crappy flirting skills in hopes of her not scaring you out of her domain.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. YOIMIYA

the current owner of the naganohara daycare center which she inherited from her grandparents. yoimiya is very popular with children and young pokemon, entertaining them with fireworks. due to the lack of staff, you sign up to be a volunteer. one day, she and her grandparents find an egg in the playpen, and she asks for your help to hatch it together. don’t let it come near her flareon. it almost cooked the egg alive with its flames as well as almost burned the center down.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ZHONGLI

a rock-type gym leader stationed in liyue and a historian. zhongli enjoys drinking tea and myths of legendary pokemon. challenging gyms can be fun, but hunger and hydration sure aren’t. entering his gym, he notices how deprived you are from food and water, so he orders his garchomp and staff to arrange you a meal. the food must’ve cost a fortune, though his knowledge of every bit of history you can name shocks you more. he rambles so much that he forgets about your gym challenge that day.

[mrspiastri]

✩ feed me, please? 🍛

pairing: lando norris x desi!reader

cw: fluff

wc: 4.2k words

an: i know this is the longest i’ve vanished for but IM BACKKK 😁😁😁, and ty for the req :D

It was a sort of ritual the two of them had developed. One they didn’t find the need to really speak into existence, since it had simply become a part of their lives.

Every Monday, when Lando would return from whatever country he’d been racing in the previous night and back to Monaco, Y/N would wait up for him.

It didn’t matter how late he arrived, or that she had work in the morning and should have gone to sleep at a reasonable time like a sane person. Unfortunately, she was anything but sane, especially when it came to him.

The same boyfriend who was on his way home from Melbourne, still riding the high of the 5th win of his career.

He was supposed to be home by 3 in the afternoon, but it seemed that his weekend’s luck had run out, and his flight was rescheduled for later, which meant he wouldn’t reach home until nearly 9 at night.

Y/N pretended she wasn’t disappointed when he texted her about the delay, but it was hard not to be. As silly as it sounded, she loved spending as much time with him as possible whenever his schedule allowed it. The fact that their time together tonight would be cut down left a small pang of sadness in her chest.

But if anything, it only made her more determined to give him a proper welcome home.

Before she got to work, she made sure everything was ready: the banner (which was just three giant craft sheets taped together with “Congrats Lando!” written in big letters), the balloons she had single-handedly inflated (after sorting out the orange and black ones, of course), and the cake she had baked, now cooling on the kitchen counter.

The smell of incense lingered faintly in the air, the last remnants of the sandalwood incense sticks she had lit earlier in the evening. It wasn’t really a ritual, but something she did out of habit; her mother always said it kept the house feeling calm, like a reset for the week ahead. The warm, woody scent mixed with the delicate fragrance of her jasmine plant, which sat in the window, its small white buds blooming beautifully in the evening breeze.

Lando always said their home smelled different. Not like the crisp, cool air of a hotel or the artificial scents of air fresheners. It smelled lived in. A mix of filter coffee, coconut oil, and the lingering floral scent of their fabric softener. Something distinctly her.

She smiled at the thought while grabbing a small steel tumbler, pouring a little warm milk into it before adding a spoonful of crushed almonds. He wouldn’t ask for it, but she knew how exhausted he would be after the long flight. And she knew he’d drink it anyway, especially if she handed it to him without a word.

As she finished icing the cake, she debated making a quick chicken curry and rice, just in case he wanted a proper meal instead of reheated leftovers. Her sister would call her mad for putting in so much effort at this hour.

Maybe she was, but it didn’t seem to deter her in the slightest. She glanced at the time on her phone, still a couple of hours before he’d land. That gave her more than enough time. She turned to the kitchen, tying her hair up with her trusty claw clip, rolling up her sleeves.

Y/N chopped the chicken, then got the pan going with some oil, mustard seeds, and crushed garlic. Once they sizzled, in went chopped onions, then tomatoes, and a mix of turmeric, red chilli powder, coriander, and garam masala. No measuring, just by feel, like she always did. The kind of cooking that lived in her muscle memory.

After the masala cooked down, she added the chicken, gave it a good mix, and added hot water for a light gravy. While that simmered, she rinsed basmati rice and set it on the stove.

Within minutes, the kitchen smelled like home; spices, garlic, and something warm and familiar. The curry bubbled gently on the stove, the rice nearly done.

It was simple, but it was his favorite. And hers too, if she was being honest. If there was one thing she learnt in her years of being with Lando, it was that he had the palate of a child.

As everything cooked, she leaned against the counter, tired but content. She could already picture Lando walking through the door; backpack slung over one shoulder, hair a little messy, eyes half-tired but lighting up when he smelled the food.

He always pretended to be casual about it, but she’d caught him sneaking seconds more than once. And every single time, he’d mutter something like, "How is this better than the curry your mum makes?" with a pout that made her want to roll her eyes and kiss him at the same time.

Y/N let the chicken simmer, rice already done. Just as she was stirring up the pot, she heard the sound of the door rattling.

“Shit!”, she whispered before quickly switching off the heat and rushing to open the door.

The door pushed open, and Y/N was greeted by the sight of a tired Lando, curls messy, shoulders slumped, and eyes droopy. However, all that changed the second he laid eyes on her.

🪻🪻🪻

The moment the door creaked open, Lando stepped inside, his body nearly folding under the weight of exhaustion. His shoulders sagged, backpack slipping halfway down one arm, curls flattened from hours in transit, eyes barely staying open.

And then he saw her.

There, in his home that had slowly become theirs, barefoot and glowing in the soft light, standing with a crooked smile on her face. Dressed in her favourite cotton kurta, with a pair of loose pajamas.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with fatigue, but there was a warmth blooming in his chest that no amount of tiredness could dull.

Y/N shrugged like it was nothing, like her heart hadn’t spent the entire day planning how to make him smile.

“Your fifth win deserves some sort of celebration,” she said lightly. “Even if it’s kind of lopsided.”

His eyes flicked to the “Congrats Lando!” banner that barely hung on by tape, then to the ridiculous orange and black balloons huddled in one corner of the room. He laughed under his breath, a little stunned by the quiet love in all of it.

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, dropping his backpack to the floor without a second thought. She fit perfectly against him, her hair smelling faintly of jasmine, her skin warm against his travel-chilled hoodie.

“You sorted the orange ones out, didn’t you?” he mumbled into her hair.

“Obviously.”

He didn’t say anything for a second, just held her there in the quiet, letting himself breathe her in. Letting himself come home.

God, he loved her.

It hit him in the simplest moments, much like this. Not when the cameras flashed, not when he stood on podiums, not even when he scored his career highs. But when he walked into a house that smelled like her hair oil and home-cooked food. When she looked up at him with that stupidly soft smile like she’d been waiting all day just for this.

When she handed him the little steel tumbler, he realised he was some sort of spoiled prince. Which, of course, he totally was. At least when it came to her.

“You’re unreal,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She raised an eyebrow. “For blowing some balloons?”

He shook his head. “For all of it.”

She tried to brush it off with a joke, but his nose twitched as the scent of something familiar drifted from the kitchen. His stomach growled audibly.

“Is that... chicken curry?”

“Maybe,” she said, trying not to grin.

Without hesitation, he made a beeline for the stove, lifting the lid of the pot like a man possessed. The smell hit him full force; spiced, rich, comforting. It was like a hug in the form of food.

He turned back to her, eyes wide. “Are you actually trying to ruin every meal I’ll have for the rest of the year?”

“You act like you don’t live on frozen pizza when I’m not here.”

“Exactly,” he said, trying to scoop a spoonful of the gravy and blowing on it. “So how do you expect me to go back to that after this?”

Y/N quickly smacked his hand away, making him playfully frown. “First go freshen up, and change out of your airport clothes.”

Lando groaned dramatically, dragging his suitcase toward their bedroom like a sleep-deprived child. “Fine, but only because you bullied me into it.”

She kissed him once more before gently pulling back, brushing his curls away from his forehead. “I encouraged you, big difference.”

With him out of sight, she got to work garnishing the curry; fresh coriander chopped finely, a squeeze of lime to brighten the gravy, and a pinch more garam masala because she knew exactly how he liked it. The rice had steamed perfectly, each grain separate and fluffy, and she spooned it neatly onto a plate, ladling the chicken curry beside it so the gravy soaked into the rice just enough.

🪻🪻🪻

Just as she was setting everything onto the table, Lando reappeared, now in a pair of soft grey joggers and a worn tee. His curls were damp from a quick shower, and his eyes looked just a touch clearer, though the tiredness still clung to him in the way his shoulders sagged.

He sniffed the air like a cartoon character following the scent of a freshly baked pie. “I could smell it in the shower. You’re evil.”

She raised a brow as she placed the plate down in front of his chair. “You say that like I didn’t just make your favorite meal.”

“You did. That’s the problem.” He collapsed into the chair, groaning softly as he looked at the food. “It looks amazing, love. Smells even better.”

She leaned over, ruffling his curls with a smug smile. “Eat, before I make you reheat it yourself.”

He stared down at the plate for a second, then looked up at her with the softest, most exhausted expression on his face.

“Babe?” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Can you…” He scratched the back of his neck, then blinked at her, boyishly shy. “Can you feed me? Just a little? I’m so tired.“

Y/N stared at him, half amused, half exasperated; but mostly endeared. This man, this world-class athlete, who just hours ago had stood on the podium in front of thousands, was now looking at her like a sleepy toddler who needed to be tucked in and hand-fed dinner.

“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered affectionately, sitting down beside him.

“But lovable,” he quipped, resting his chin on her shoulder briefly.

She had just reached for the spoon, before Lando whined again. “Babe, not with the spoon,” stretching out the last few consonants of the word.

“How else do you expect me to feed you dummy?,” she asked.

“With your hands, please. It always tastes better when you do it.” He mumbled in response, almost embarrassed about having to make the request.

She rolled her eyes, already using her fingers to mix a bit of curry and rice, scooping it gently and holding it up to his lips. “Open.”

He obeyed without hesitation, sighing contentedly the moment the food hit his tongue. “Oh my God,” he mumbled with his mouth full, eyes fluttering shut. “That’s actually insane.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she made another bite. “You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true every time,” he said, swallowing. “This is the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks.”

“Liar,” she said, feeding him again. “You were probably at some five-star place two nights ago.”

“Exactly. Five stars. No love. This? Ten stars. All love.”

Y/N paused for just a second, letting his words settle in her chest. Then she smiled, softer this time, brushing her fingers against his cheek as she fed him the next bite.

“I missed you loads, Lando.”

His eyes met hers, warm and heavy with everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

“I know,” he whispered. “I missed you more.”

She let her thumb linger on his cheek for a moment before pulling it back, scooping up another bite of rice and curry. She held it out to him wordlessly, and he leaned forward, taking it into his mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world; like being fed by her, like sitting here in their cozy kitchen after a race weekend, was his idea of perfect.

He chewed slowly, savoring it like she’d plated a Michelin-starred dish just for him. Maybe to anyone else, it looked simple. A plate of rice, curry, and love. But to Lando, it felt like everything.

And that look in her eyes. Soft. Steady. Like no matter how many countries he traveled through, how many podiums he stood on, or flights he boarded, this would always be his favorite place to land.

“Do you want some?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.

She raised a brow, amused. “I’ve been tasting while cooking.”

“But that’s not the same,” he murmured, reaching for her hand and gently guiding it to her lips. She blinked, but he nodded. “Come on. One bite for you.”

She rolled her eyes but took the bite anyway, and he grinned like he’d just won again.

They sat like that for a while. Him slouched in the chair, head tilted toward her shoulder, letting her feed him slowly, in no rush. Between bites, his fingers brushed hers, thumb tracing soft lines over her knuckles. He liked the way her skin felt against his; warm, familiar, grounding.

“Do you ever get tired of being this perfect?” he asked between bites.

Y/N snorted. “All the time. It’s exhausting.”

Lando chuckled, eyes closing for a second. “I mean it though. I don’t know how I got this lucky.”

“You made a left turn at the right time,” she teased.

He smiled, but there was a weight behind it. A softness. He reached out, his hand gently resting on her knee, thumb drawing small circles through the fabric of the pajamas she was wearing.

“I don’t say it enough,” he said quietly, “but thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“For waiting up,” he replied, looking into her eyes. “For cooking. For decorating. For always being here when I come… and making it feel like home.”

Y/N looked at him for a long second, heart fluttering at the honesty in his voice, the way he said it like it was sacred.

She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Always,” she whispered.

He smiled again, a little sleepier now, letting his head fall to her shoulder as she fed him the last few bites. His hand slid from her knee to her waist, fingers curling into the soft fabric of her kurta. His plate was nearly empty now, but he looked up at her with those warm, sleepy eyes and that signature little smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’d marry you just to have a lifetime supply of your cooking… but also because I love you.”

Y/N blinked, her heart stuttering just a little at how sincere he sounded; sleepy-eyed and warm, but somehow managing to look at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She smiled, playful but touched. “So I have to feed you forever, is that what you’re saying?”

Lando grinned, eyes lighting up. “Don’t worry,” he said, tugging her a little closer, “I’ll always be there to do the dishes.”

That made her laugh, properly laugh, the kind that made her eyes crinkle and her shoulders shake. “Wow,” she said through a grin, “a man who loves me and does the dishes? Are you trying to make me cry?”

Lando didn’t let go of her hand, not even as her laughter softened and the air between them settled into something quieter, gentler. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles over her skin, and his gaze never left her face. It was like he was memorizing her all over again.

Y/N tilted her head, still smiling, still flushed, and leaned in to kiss his cheek, light and lingering.

“I do adore you,” she murmured, the words simple but full, warm like the kitchen around them. “And not just because you do the dishes.”

He grinned. “That’s just a bonus?”

She nodded. “A very attractive one.”

Lando chuckled, nuzzling her nose for a second before she finally pulled away, brushing her hands on her thighs as she stood up.

“Alright,” she said, moving toward the counter, “stay right there. I have one more thing for you.”

He watched her curiously, chin resting in his palm, eyes following every step she took as she reached for something just out of sight. And then she turned around, holding the cake in her hands with a proud little smile.

It wasn’t perfect, the icing was a little uneven, and the sprinkles were slightly chaotic, but it was hers. Homemade, thoughtful, and filled with every bit of love she hadn’t quite managed to put into words. The top read ‘Yay Lando!’ in shaky icing letters, and there was a tiny, uneven attempt at a checkered flag drawn in the corner. And to top it all off, she added a few candles on the cake, that crackled merrily.

His heart swelled instantly.

“Y/N…” he said softly, sitting up straighter, “you made that?”

“I tried,” she laughed, placing it gently on the table in front of him. “I know it’s not fancy or anything, but you won. Again. And I’m really, really proud of you.”

Lando stared at the cake for a second longer, then up at her; and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at her like she hung the moon.

“I love you,” he said again, quieter this time. “And this… this means more than anything anyone else could’ve given me.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered a little, but she smiled through it, reaching up to brush back a strand of his hair. “I’m just glad you’re home.”

🪻🪻🪻

He reached for her hand again, tugging her gently onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist as she melted into him.

“I could stay like this forever,” he said, almost to himself, his thumb brushing across her waist.

Y/N gave him a fond smile. “But then who would go win races and wear ridiculous helmets?”

Lando laughed, and the sound made her heart flutter. “Still worth it,” he teased, before his voice turned soft again. “But even if I’m halfway across the world, this is what I come back to. It’s what I look forward to. Always.”

She leaned down to kiss him gently, her lips lingering over his like she wanted to tell him everything without saying a word. When they finally pulled apart, he was smiling, just barely, in that lovesick way that made her feel weightless.

“Come on, blow out the candles, unless you want a bit of melted wax in your cake.”

He complied, blowing them out, not before making a wish. Lando couldn’t tell anyone what the wish was exactly, but he knew whatever it was involved Y/N.

“Now how about you feed me a slice of that cake you made. You know… since you’re already on a roll tonight.”

She rolled her eyes playfully but reached for the knife anyway.

“Fine,” she said, cutting him a generous piece. “But only because you’re cute. And jet-lagged.”

“And madly in love with you,” he added, flashing her that boyish smile she could never resist.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said through a smile, holding up a bite for him.

He chewed the bite slowly, savoring it like it was some five-star dessert, even after she mentioned she made it with a box mix. None of that mattered to him. It was hers. She had made it with her own two hands, for him, after working all day, after waiting up when she could have easily gone to sleep. And somehow, it tasted like comfort. Like love.

Lando leaned back in his chair with a soft groan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before glancing over at her. She was still watching him with that shy smile, her fingers brushing off a crumb from the corner of his lips without even thinking about it. So casually intimate. So them.

“Okay, that was amazing,” he said, nudging her foot with his under the table. “But now that you’ve stuffed me like a turkey, tell me about your day, hmm?”

She blinked at him, surprised. “Mine?”

“Yes, yours,” he said, nudging her foot again. “You always ask about my races, my media stuff, my training. And I love that, but I’ve missed hearing about your day. I want to know everything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she gave him a look that was both amused and touched. “It wasn’t very exciting.”

“I don’t care,” he said, sitting up straighter now, resting his elbow on the table and his cheek against his fist like a boy trying to stay awake in a lecture; except his smile made it clear he was genuinely interested. “Tell me anyway. Start from the top.”

She exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. “Fine… I woke up late because I stayed up finishing a report. Barely had time to make coffee, but your mum texted me a photo of your podium, and that made my morning.”

Lando grinned. “She’s obsessed with me.”

“She’s proud of you,” Y/N said, smiling too. “She’d asked if I’d recorded your post-race interview, and I had. So I sent it to her.”

Lando chuckled. “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, nudging his leg. “Then work was the usual chaos. Back-to-back meetings. I forgot to eat lunch until like three.”

His expression turned mock-scandalized. “Love, no!”

She rolled her eyes with a small laugh. “Relax, I ate something. Just… not real food. I had chai and a couple of biscuits.”

He leaned forward, frowning slightly. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re literally the one who travels across time zones and survives on protein bars and Monster Energy.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to being irresponsible,” he teased. “You’re the responsible one. Keep the balance.”

She rolled her eyes, but her thumb instinctively brushed over his knuckles. “Fine. I’ll eat better tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said softly, intertwining their fingers.

There was a beat of silence as they just sat there, fingers laced together across the table, the candlelight flickering gently and the warm scent of cardamom and jasmine still clinging to the air. He studied her face like it was his favorite thing in the world, because it was.

He pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in. It smelled like home. Not in the way his childhood home had, or even the flat he’d bought in London years ago. No, this was different. This was the scent of freshly washed sheets with a hint of her shampoo, of incense smoke that lingered even hours after it had burned out, of something sweet always cooking in the kitchen even if she swore she hadn’t touched sugar in days.

Everywhere she went, she left traces of herself behind. And he had slowly grown addicted to them.

He hadn’t expected this with her. Not at first. She was so different from the life he was used to, warm where the world was cold, thoughtful in a way that caught him off guard. She didn’t care about the race results, or the interviews, or the trophies. She cared if he ate, if he slept well, if he remembered to call his mum on Sundays.

And God, the way she loved him, without ever having to say it all the time. She just did. It was in the stupidly lopsided banner and the way she had sorted through a pack of balloons to only pick out McLaren colors. It was in the glass of warm milk she had set aside, because she knew he wouldn’t ask, but that he’d drink it anyway. It was in the smell of curry floating in the air, the kind that reminded him of nights curled up on the couch with her legs thrown over his, pretending not to be bored of watching the same movie for the eighteenth time.

She made this house feel like more than just walls and furniture. She made it feel safe.

And he, in his messy, often selfish, fast-paced world, had somehow found himself right in the middle of the kind of love people only dreamed about. The kind that didn’t come with fireworks and grand gestures, but instead existed in quiet, unwavering loyalty. The kind that tasted like rice and chicken curry at 11 PM on a Monday. The kind that made you want to come home, no matter how far you’d gone.

He looked at her, really looked; hair tied up in that claw clip she refused to throw out, sleeves rolled up, tiny flour smudge on her cheek from earlier, and his chest ached with how much he felt.

This wasn’t a phase. This wasn’t a fling. This was his future.

And he didn’t need to say it out loud to know that she already felt the same. Because in that kitchen, with the last crumbs of cake between them and tired smiles on their faces, they weren’t just in love.

They were building a life. And neither of them would trade it for anything.

phew, this is so gross. this is what happens when two clingy individuals start dating. god bless. pls send in some reqs from my prompt list if u would like to see some more!! thx

[yanf4iry]

oh, my dear wife ♡

wc 2.1k

husband! alhaitham x afab! reader

modern! au. breast play. fingering. oral (fem). overuse of the words ‘my wife’ but he’s in awe. probably overuse of ‘love’ and ‘darling’ too. lovey dovey alhaitham. ‘love making.’ still slightly teasing alhaitham. subtle breeding kink. afab autonomy. unprotected sex (pls be safe!). pls lmk if anythimg has been missed.

there could be spelling/gramma so pls lmk if there’s anything to be fixed mwah <333

"my darling," alhaitham spoke gently, coming up behind you, his hands lovingly capsuling around your waist as his chin came down to rest upon your shoulder. "i was thinking of ordering a fish curry and a bottle of wine to our room tonight, rather than going down to the restaurant to eat," he continued, expressing his thoughts to you. "just wanna spend the night alone together."

he nuzzled further against your neck, humming softly in contentment as the feeling of your soft skin brushed against his flushed cheeks. "how does that sound?" he asked, turning you around so you were facing him, "i thought it'd be perfect for our first night together as a married couple."

alhaitham gazed down at you lovingly, the smile on his face unmoveable as he mentioned the fact that you were husband and wife. he proposed to you just over a year ago and ever since he's been beyond eager to finally arrive at the day he can officially call you his wife.

"sounds perfect.." you hum back, enjoying the touch of his warm and firm hands against the curve of your waist.

alhaitham pulled away from you softly, going over to the small desk towards the front door of the extremely fancy hotel room you were staying in for the next 10 days. "so what are you thinking, love?" he asks "red or white?" he continues, referring to the wine he previously spoke about ordering.

"red."

"you read my mind," he grins happily before dialing the restaurant downstairs and requesting room service.

the night eventually started to pass, and you found yourselves curled up on the sofa; you snuggled against his chest and his arm trailed over your shoulder, slowly getting through that bottle of red wine he had ordered just over an hour ago.

you catch him gazing down at you, a look you could only recognise as awe and admiration. "what?" you giggle, a light blush covering your face as your eyes intertwine in an intense gaze.

"you're gorgeous.." alhaitham mumbled, his gaze not budging from your face. "perfect, even," he continued, rubbing his slender hands against the skin of your upper arm.

"i've never been so thankful to have someone in my life, let alone have the same person as my wife; who i intend to spend forever and always with.."

his words struck a chord in your heart, reddening your cheeks. "getting flustered, are we?" alhaitham chuckled, a little smirk on his face, "well get used to it.." he leans down and whispered in your ear, his hot breath causing a shiver to erupt down your spine "you've got a lifetime of compliments just like it."

after a couple moments of silence, his fingers slowly started to edge towards the hem of your shirt, dipping under it slightly to let his fingertips softly caress the skin of your lower stomach. a small sigh left your lips at the feeling, enjoying the gentle and loving touches he often grazed on your skin.

alhaitham cleared his throat, his hand moving up a little, inching ever so closer to your waist. "you know.. umm.." he started up, amusement laced in his voice, "there's still one honeymoon tradition we've not gotten around to doing yet," he continued, a smirk tugging on his lips; even though you couldn't see it, you knew it was there.

"and what would that be?"

he replied with a small tut, shaking his head playfully. "oh.. don't make me say it," he spoke up "you know what i mean."

"and what would you like me to do about it?" you ask, turning your head a little so your gaze was now meeting his.

"let me take you to bed," alhaitham spoke without hesitation, that same look of admiration he had on his face "if you'd be so kind.."

and with that, you found yourself laid out on the bed you shared, his tall, slim body hovering over yours. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, yet passionate kiss; full of need and desire, but most importantly, love.

his hands found their way back to the hem of your shirt, fiddling with it slightly, slowly growing more impatient by the second. alhaitham was always, more often than not, gentle in bed but this felt different; not saying he ever lacked passion, but this felt beyond passionate, beyond loving. it was almost as if he craved to be close to you like his entire being needed it.

"may i take it off?" alhaitham asked gently, tugging at your shirt a little, pulling away from your lips so he could look into your eyes; trying to look for any hint of uncertainty or discomfort, and thankfully, he found none.

you nod in response, a small smile painting your face just before he slowly pulled your shirt over your head. you hadn't been wearing a bra in this moment, i mean, what was the need? you were snuggling on the couch with your husband. a deep breath left his throat as he revealed your bare chest.

"i meant it when i said you were perfect, you know?" alhaitham said, voice sounding genuine. he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. well, to him, you were. you were his wife and there was nothing more precious than that.

"you're only saying that because you're close to getting me naked," you giggle softly, teasing him subtly.

"getting you naked is always a bonus," alhaitham spoke back, "but i truly do mean it, you're perfect," he added, "my perfect, perfect wife."

his hand raised towards your breasts, gently caressing them as his lips moved down to meet yours; them intertwining in a soft and loving dance. "you're so soft.." he mumbled against your lips, pressing his body up against yours.

you could feel his arousal growing against your thigh, the hard-on in his slacks extremely hard to hide as his hips subconsciously moved to gain some friction. his fingers tips came to enclose around your nipple, gently playing with it, his mouth swallowing your tiny moans; he refused to move his lips from yours, desperate to feel you. "i need you so bad.."

slowly, his kisses started moving from your lips and down to your neck, him taking the time to suck and bite the delicate skin there; however, not harsh enough to leave any marks or bruises, he was often careful as he knew they were a pain to cover. your heartbeat quickens and your breath paces as his soft lips edge ever so closer to your breasts, him eventually taking your nipple in his mouth, hand continuing to nurse the other.

quiet moans left your mouth as he pleasured you further, head tilted back a little. alhaitham's gaze raised a little, locking eyes with yours for a few subtle seconds, smirking slightly at how the smallest of touches always managed to get you going. "perfect.." he whispered out once again, never missing a moment to remind you how truly in awe he was of you.

"alhaitham.. please.." you whine out, grinding against his hips a little, resulting in a gentle grunt escaping his lips.

"does my beautiful wife need me?" he asks, his voice slightly teasing, but he knew you loved it when he was at least a little cocky with you during bed. "does she need me as much as i need her?"

his hands trail down to the waistband of the sleep shorts you were wearing, looking up at you once more in search of the consent for him to move on. without hesitation, once he received your permission of course, he pulled them down revealing your embarrassingly soaked core to him.

alhaitham grunted at the sight, his hand coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer towards him, kissing your lips gently, fingers needing at the skin of your waist. "my wife.." he whispers against your lips, "i'll make you feel good, okay?" alhaitham continues, "that's all i ever want to do."

not even moments later, his wet, warm lips were trailing towards your inner thighs, gently littering kisses everywhere but where you truly needed him. his hands were firmly placed on your hips, fingertips dancing along the miniature stretchmarks there.

a small whimper leaves your lips as his mouth wrapped around your throbbing clit; he was a pleaser, and oh god, was he pleasing you right now. he knew what to do with his tongue without a doubt, exploring your wet folds.

"oh- god.." you whine gently, hand moving to his head, gripping at his soft hair as his mouth worked its wonders. "too good.. s-shit-" you manage to gasp out, hips subtly bucking up against his mouth which only made him chuckle lowly against you.

"like that, my wife?" he mumbles against you before indulging in you for much longer. it wasn't long before you found yourself getting closer to your high, the many noises from your lips getting louder and louder by the second.

"mmhm," you moan out, "just like that."

"are you close, baby?" he whispers against you, fingers teasing your entrance a little, edging two digits inside you, stretching you out making your eyes roll back a little from the overwhelming pleasure. "cum for me, my wife-"

and with that, you were clenching around his fingers as he curved them inside you, brushing up against g-spot with every motion he made, giving you almost no time to process anything before you were cumming against his mouth; legs shaking, and mouth wide open.

"fuck- fuck-" you whimper, legs shaking around his head.

alhaitham's head moved from between your legs, a little smirk on his face as he watched the way your body twitched for him. "let me fill you, darling..." he whispers, hands flying to pull down the slacks he was wearing. "i need to be in you," he continued, revealing his hard cock that was evidently desperate for attention.

"alhaitham please.." you whisper out, watching the way his hand slowly tugged on his length, biting your lip in anticipation. "i need you just as bad."

a gentle moan left your lips, accompanied by a similar noise coming from alhaitham, as he pushed the tip of his cock inside you. "good heavens-" he moans out, hands tightly grasped onto your waist as he pushed himself further inside you, not stopping until he was all the way in.

"tell me when i can move, my love.." alhaitham spoke in a hushed voice, smiling down at you as he watched your face contort in pleasure. "you're doing so well."

after a few short moments, you gave him the clear to start moving, and with the way your wet walls were gripping onto his thick cock, you didn't have to tell him twice.

his thrusts were soft but deep, hitting all the places you need him to be, moans falling from both your lips at the pace of his thrusts. "so good-" alhaitham gasped out, feeling your walls clench around him subconsciously "my perfect, beautiful wife," he gritted out between each movement of his hips.

the tip of his length was pressing up against your cervix every chance it got, making you want to squeal from how good it truly felt. "you're so deep.." you choke out, eyes rolling back and teeth dug tightly into your bottom lip.

"hmm?" alhaitham hums back in response, staring down at you as his thrusts remained the same pace; deep and slow, different to how he usually was. with alhaitham sex was always wild, fast and hard, not because he didn't care but because that's the way you both liked it. he loved making you see stars in the most unimaginable ways, but tonight.. he was soft, passionate and gentle like he was almost scared you'd break. he was pouring every ounce of love and feeling he had into it, making it something completely new.

"do you think im deep enough to get you nice and full with my child, my perfect, pretty wife?" he asks, grabbing a hand full of one of your breasts as he makes the effort to push himself inside you with a little more pressure.

the question made you whimper a little, but it was audibly a few octaves higher because of the shock of hearing it. you'd briefly spoken about possibly having kids before, and alhaitham had always said that he'd like them but it was always your choice, but it's not a topic of discussion that came up a lot so it was a surprise to hear those words come out of his mouth.

"would you like that, darling.." he spoke softly, caressing the skin of your lower stomach. "i know we haven't spoken about it much, but i cant help think about how pretty you'd look pregnant."

"my gorgeous, wonderful, perfect wife, all pregnant just for me."

[uumeboshii]

wc: 1, 104

content warnings: breeding? ! reader is referred to as ma'am. feminine pronouns. oral (fem rec)

"Hinata Shoyo, the acclaimed professional volleyball player and part of Japan men's national team, coming up next week!"

The cheerful voice of the show's narrator vibrates through the room, announcing the appearance of your fiancé. He had been thrilled when the show's producers and parents contacted him, wanting him to come on the show and do some activities with the kids. He flew to South Korea within a week of talking and making arrangements, stayed for another to explore the city he was staying at, and would be coming home in a few days.

The screen showed clips of Shoyo smiling at the camera, looking around with a baby in arms, and- oh, taking a nap with the baby on his chest. You couldn't help but smile at the image; thoughts stirring in your mind (are you ovulating soon?) so loud and fast that your phone ringing almost makes you scream.

"Sugar! My flight is booked. I'll be home in three days, do you want me to bring you anything from Korea? They have a ton of varieties of that spicy ramen you like so much..." Shoyo's voice was bright, bouncing off the speaker as he named all the different flavors of ramen "... and curry, wait, there's also one of those self-heating Hot Pot bowls"

"Mmm... bring carbonara and curry ramen, and some rice cakes if you can" Yes, ma'am! He responded, hanging up. He was so sweet to you. Would his babies be as cheerful as him?

Five days later, Shoyo was at home, resting, eating of those spicy curry-flavored ramen while you sat on the couch, waiting for his episode on the show to begin.

"I can't wait for you to watch it, the babies were so cute!" He says, a mouthful of noodles going into his mouth.

Nodding, you try the noodles, hoping the overwhelming heat will overpower the feeling in your lower abdomen.

It all goes well. Shoyo helping the older kid to tie his shoes, calling him endearing names every other sentence. You can't help but picture the kid with orange hair and your partner's big smile. Shoyo taking said kid and his younger sibling to the convenience store right after they expressed their craving for some melona ice cream bars, both of them holding his hand. He was so caring, so protective. Would he prefer to have boys? He seemed so at ease with them. And then, her. After coming home, the father had brought the youngest in the family to meet Shoyo, and it was impossible to miss the way his eyes lit up. She was a year old, hair in two little pigtails at the top of her head, in a yellow onesie.

Everything became a blur after that. He was so sweet to her, so soft. His eyes never left her, a secure hold on her at all times. Such a good father.

Sleep doesn't come easy.

Tossing, turning and groaning, your brain just can't sweep away the image of Shoyo with children of yours. Happily running through your house, their voices filling your ears.

Being pumped full of cum by your perfect, sweet soon-to-be-husband who'll take care of all of you.

You reach your hand out to your partner, tracing lines down his bare back. Poking his ribs, softly scratching the tan, freckled skin. His muscles tense when your nails leave red marks behind, a low mumble coming from your fiancé. "Hm?"

"You okay? Why are you up?" He says, turning around, facing you. His eyelids still open and close with sleep, a pair of fingers going straight to the ends of your hair. You nod. Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek, a leg pulling him closer to you until your lips meet for a kiss. It's soft until it isn't. Hunger takes over quickly, your teeth pulling on his lip as his hands grope your ass, positioning you on top of him. You sit on his hard-on to give the both of you a minute to breathe, moving slowly back and forth.

"I've been so wet all day, Sho— can't do it anymore," you blurt out, the thin fabric of your underwear sticking to your outer lips, making everything so, so uncomfortable. You hear him mumble some prayers before pulling himself up, all his weight on the palms of his hands as he pushes himself to you. Your lips clash, he has you leaning back as he takes your waist in his arms, his big muscles crushing you. Managing to lift your hips, you shimmy out of your shorts and squeal as Shoyo shifts your positions and throws you to the mattress, giggling. He snatches your shorts and dives into you, biting and kissing and sucking your inner thighs. His face gets closer to your heat, inhaling your scent as his arms around your legs, locking you in place.

"I can tell", he says. You try to close your legs around him, but his grip on you is so secure you only feel the tip of his tongue as he gives a kitten lick to your clit. A shiver goes through your body, his tongue licking long strips on your slit. "God, I've missed you."

Whimpering, you run your hand through his hair as he keeps licking and sucking at your clit; his tongue traces shapes along the folds of your pussy, nose bumping you with every move. It's as if he's doing it for himself, for his own pleasure.

Your grip tightens when you feel one of his hands snake and position itself at your entrance. His fingers prod at your hole as he keeps sucking, adding one finger and curling it upwards as his tongue presses flat against you. You grind on his face and he lets you, another finger being enough to have you moaning in a higher pitch, "Shoyo-Sho, mhm, just like that"

It fuels him, burying his face even deeper along with his fingers, pumping and curling just right. Your nails dig into his scalp and that's when he loses it, grinding against the mattress; he's so intoxicated with your scent, your touch, your voice, he just has to have you cumming on his face. Which you do, when he moans right into your core as he keeps fingering you. The burning sensation on your stomach spreading all over your body sends shivers down your spine and legs, which tighten around Shoyo's head as he keeps kissing. Your heart races. Shoyo climbs up your body, his nose breathing in the scent of your lotion.

"I wanna make you mine, no one'll take you from me"

[driaswrld]

city boys! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 1.4k

summary : you go grocery shopping with satoru and suguru and they're just idiots tbvh (gn! reader)

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : i have shamelessly brought my calculator to a kfc drive thru and yes i do it at the grocery store bcus i have dyscalculia math sucks don't @ me. also i have so much satosugu brainrot i can't breathe. yay to the satoru themed era of the blog :))

other : this can be read as platonic or poly just however you wanna see it! (like three curse words i think - mentions of cunnilingus) I SWEAR ITS NOT WHAT U THINK

current casette : city boys - burna boy

There’s something about summer that makes Satoru and Suguru hang off your shoulders more than they ought to. In the most mundane situations too.

“—and it’s not even that serious!” Satoru groans, dragging his feet on the floor, reluctantly marching behind where you’re pushing the trolley. “Who cares what kind of curry it is? Curry is curry.” He reasons with a huff.

Suguru nudges you in the middle of the supermarket aisle from time to time, pointing out things you usually buy, brands you usually prefer over most, and you grab whatever you find remotely necessary and toss in the cart, both of you collectively ignoring Satoru’s whines.

“C’monnn… Listen to me!”

You pick up a can of diced pineapple and look at Suguru. “Nah, that one’s too sour,” he murmurs and you put it back instantly. Afterall, Suguru’s the best taste tester you could ever ask for. Satoru just scarfs down everything in a forty mile radius.

“The design on the can was pretty though, ‘s a shame.” You sigh.

Satoru’s groans fall on deaf ears.

You turn a corner and head into the fruit aisle. Suguru’s eyes flick to something over your head and his steps falter for a moment. While you’re pushing the trolley ahead, a soft smack! noise comes from behind you and before you can turn your head—

“No! I wanted the other one—”

“This one’s better—”

You ignore them, albeit barely with all the commotion both boys are causing in the supermarket. Leaning over an array of cherries on display, you hum to yourself, carefully picking the pretty ones to add to the cart, perusing at the other assortment of fruit and if even possible, Satoru and Suguru’s bickering gets louder.

“That tastes like shit—” “You look like shit—”

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?”

“You eat pussy with that mouth?”

You strain your head forward as an old lady strolls past, her eyes a little wide and eyebrows knitted with a look of utter shock and you shrink. With a stiff, humorless giggle you turn your back to her, suddenly finding a bunch of grapes oddly interesting.

Embarrassing.

And when you breathe a breath of relief as the old lady passes by, Satoru swings his arm over your shoulder, pouting. “Suguru’s a dumbass—” He’s cut off by a smack to the back of his head, and despite yourself you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Will you two just behave and,” you shift out of Satoru’s hold to take the mini package of ridiculously sweet m&m infused rice krispies he has in his other hand.

You toss it into the cart. “—help me pick some stuff for my fruit salad?” Satoru shrugs with a sigh, he hates shopping. It’s so boring—

You laugh and pull up the list you typed up on your phone : Raspberries, check. Kiwi, check. Watermelon, check. Grapes…

“What else do you need?” Suguru asks, and he sidesteps Satoru, leaning casually on the trolley, one foot pushing it forward and backward as you look through the fruits. “Grapes—” you murmur, suddenly feeling indecisive as you look through the different bunches. Green or Purple. Purple or Green.

Satoru pushes his sunglasses down to the curve of his nose. “Green, ‘s prettier,” he says and you turn to grab a bunch of the green grapes as Suguru straightens his body, pretending to look over your shoulder as he sneakily drops a package of plain marshmallow rice krispies into the cart. “Yeah, green would make it look way more appealing, wouldn’t it?” You whisper to yourself.

“I saw that—” Satoru begins to say.

“Purple’s better, healthier than the green ones.” Suguru says with a straight face. Behind your back he flips Satoru off.

You shrug your shoulders and grab a small bunch of both. If anything, it’ll be shared well between you and Shoko in the bentos you make. Hopefully she appreciates the struggle.

Sliding your phone unlocked, you glance at the list again as you step off. Grapes, check. Suguru pushes the trolley, following close behind you as Satoru trudges behind him. “Wait—” You halt immediately, and Suguru has to steer the trolley left so he doesn’t run into you, but Satoru steps on the back of Suguru's shoes, and looks away with a bashful whistle.

“Other aisle, we need to turn around.” You say, sliding your phone back into your back pocket. Canned Pineapples. You forgot you put back the last one. “How many damn aisles are there?” Satoru mumbles as you turn and make a beeline for the next corner, going back where the three of you came. Suguru chuckles.

Kneeling, you grab the canned pineapples opposite to the ones Suguru said were sour. Hopefully that much distance in the store is enough of a difference between the two brands.

You check the list one more time. Pineapples, check.

“Right, that should be it.” You mumble and both boys internally celebrate — well, Satoru makes a show of letting out a long dramatic sigh of relief while Suguru nods.

Taking a look into the cart, Satoru pettily moves his package of rice krispies on the other side of the cart, away from Suguru’s and when Suguru looks at him incredulously, he sticks a tongue out, “Your flavor’s trash.”

Suguru rolls his eyes and is about to push the trolley forward to run him over when he sees you pull out a scientific calculator from your tote.

A scientific calculator. The same one you use for school. “The fu—” Satoru is about to say, and Suguru glances at him, both of them trying to at least read each other’s minds about what the hell is going on.

You however, are so hyper focused on your little task, pushing the buttons of your calculator, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. Satoru and Suguru watch you for all of two minutes. One minute spent with expressions morphing from confused, to even more confused, to utterly amused. The second minute spent snickering quietly and snapping silent pictures for the groupchat.

“Huh, I went over a little.” You hum and though they haven’t wiped the sheer amusement off their faces, they both find themselves intrigued. “By how much?” Suguru asks, quickly sending off the pictures to the groupchat.

“Seven hundred yen.” You reply as you step forward to peer into the cart, willing and ready to discard one unnecessary item to drop the price.

Three of your phones chime. Satoru checks his own notification.

[Gojo Fanclub]

Nanaminn <3 : who added me to this???

Nanaminn <3 : delete my number gojo.

“Bet it’s the curry.” Satoru mumbles absentmindedly, typing at his phone screen. “The curry’s like—” he pauses, shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket and counts silently on his fingers. “A thousand yen or something — they must’ve put the god of curry in there or something.”

“It’s not the curry,” you reason scouring the cart for any discrepancies. And there’s quite a few of them. Including but not limited to some Sakura tarts, sour candies, an extra package of rice krispies—

“The curry powder we picked is five hundred yen, it’s not the curry.” Suguru shrugs, and Satoru leans against one of the shelves of seasoning, letting out a quiet sneeze.

“Bless you— I need to recheck these.” The calculator comes out again as you murmur to yourself, the click clacking of the buttons drowning out your own thoughts.

“I’m just saying— maybe it was the rice krispie Suguru snuck into the cart—” Satoru mumbles, all while he bends his body at the end of the aisle, reaching blindly around to the shelves on the other side.

“You put one in, I was only balancing the trolley weight.” Suguru interrupts, and he turns his head away when you look up from your calculator at him accusingly.

“See?” Satoru grins, almost victoriously as he grasps a package of baumkuchen, wheeling his hand back as he sidesteps Suguru, moving to slide the pastry into the trolley. “Who knows what else’ll just drop into the cart?” And your calculator is forgotten as you snatch the pastry from Satoru’s hand. “Nothing else is dropping into the cart—”

But something else catches your attention as you’re about to scold him.

Two bright green bags, hidden at the bottom of the cart, stuffed under the packaging of Sakura tarts.

“Who the hell put Kenpi chips in here?”

Satoru and Suguru both freeze, and suddenly their accusing fingers are pointed at each other. But instead of scolding them like they expect—

“Should’ve at least put one for me.”

You're never going to the grocery store with them again.

Bonus :

“Satoru’s paying for the extra snacks—”

“Not fair! Suguru shouldn’t get to just stuff his face—”

“Only two of those snacks are mine. Two. Out of ten.”

A notification sounds on the three of your phones.

[Gojo Fanclub]

Nanaminn <3 : is that my calculator that you borrowed???

@todorokies gets the privilege tag cs i told knives ab this first😭

[umikawa]

a/n: unneccessarily long but i kept wanting to add flashbacks... this was requested here!

byakuya ishigami x gn!reader (barely if i'm honest) & platonic! senku ishigami x reader 2.5k wc | warnings: brief depictions of restlessness and wanting to give in (letting your mind slip during petrification) just a little sad, nothing major. Italics are flashbacks, I love dialogue !

♫ star / colde (listen to the organic version for more of a punch !)

You need to get out. 

Wake up. Break out. Anything. 

“I’ll keep him safe,” You’d said over the phone, smiling at Byakuya, who laughed loudly. “Though, it’ll probably end up being the other way around.” 

Another laugh comes from him, moving to rest his chin in his palm, staring behind you at the boy who’d just peeked his head through the door. “How about you keep each other safe, yeah? I won’t be there to watch over you two.”

“Even when you were here, Y/n was doing all the protecting, old man.” You look at the voice, watching Senku roll the extra chair from the corner beside you. “We’re ten billion percent safer without you here.” 

Your fingers poke into his side, earning a quick shout of protest and a light slap against your arm. “You know, Byakuya, the first night you left Senku–” Two tiny hands clasp over your mouth, your hand flying to the chair’s armrest to keep him from rolling away when he leaned too far. 

“Don’t you dare say a word!”

Byakuya smiled at your interaction, chest filling with warmth while his mind ignored the idea of both of you getting older without him.“Huh? What happened? Tell me!”

I’ll keep him safe. 

A scoff rings out into the seemingly endless void you were trapped in. So much for that. The thought of Senku already being free crossed your mind multiple times, and all you could think about was whether he was okay, if he wasn’t, and if he was safe.  

Then, your mind drifts to Byakuya. He’d been in space when humanity had turned to stone, so what were the possibilities that he’d also been turned to stone? If whatever had caused it was targeting life, would it have reached the astronauts? 

Or was the earth the only thing that got swallowed whole, and they were just drifting? Or maybe they crashed and landed back on Earth.

“Is it like– instant death when you crash land?” 

Byakuya whips his head towards you, setting the knife down so he doesn't accidentally cut himself. “What– who asks that?” 

“A very concerned spouse, that’s who!” You scoff, turning back to the curry simmering in the pot. “I’m an idiot when it comes to things like that, remember?” 

“Come on,” he sighs, knocking his fist against the counter lightly when he pushes away from it to stand behind you. “We all have our strong suits. There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

A frown comes to his lips at the persistence, but he sighs again and rests his head on your shoulder. “It’s not instant death. You just get tossed around a bit.” 

“You come back in one piece, or I’ll kill you myself.”

He chuckles, nodding his head– you can feel the scruff of his beard through your shirt. “I will.”

If Senku were there for that conversation, you’re sure he’d lecture you about the probabilities of that happening and tell you the statistics behind it all. Maybe he’d even go on a tangent about how much rocket debris still floats around in space and the ocean. 

Yeah, that sounds like something he would’ve done. 

Always analytical, always sound; every sentence that came out of that kid's mouth was sure to be written in a book, whether it was one he’d read or one he’d maybe write himself. 

You wonder what he’s thinking about now. You doubt he’d just bite the bullet and accept his fate; that wasn’t like him at all. 

He’s probably going through every variable, expanding on ones that make sense and adding to ones that don’t—leaving no stone unturned. No pun intended. 

“Y/n?” 

You lift your head from the pillow, squinting at the door to make out the figure standing at it. “It’s two in the morning, Senku. What’re you doing awake?” 

He stays silent for a moment, shuffling on his feet in an uncharacteristically timid way (even for a ten-year-old.) “You were shuffling around,” he huffs, making his way to the unoccupied side of the bed. “It’s unbearably annoying when I’m trying to sleep.” 

“Is that so?” You weren’t even moving an inch. “My sincerest apologies then.” 

He climbs in, nestling under the covers, and places his Doraemon stuffy between you. “I’ll let it slide this time, you know,” he shrugs, glancing at you briefly. “Since you’re feeling lonely.” 

You smile when he tucks his head under the blanket, reaching blindly under the covers to pat your shoulder. “How considerate of you, Senku.” 

You needed to get out. 

Restlessness overtakes your mind. How could it not? Stuck in a suspended state of mind for– god, you didn't even know how long it’s been. Constantly replaying the same memories repeatedly, wishing you could make new ones instead of reliving old ones. 

Maybe you should just give in. 

“Don’t fall asleep!” 

You jolt at the booming voice, staring at Taiju in shock. Despite his loud command, there’s a guilty, almost bashful, expression on his face. Like he enjoyed waking you up but still had a bit of regret. 

“Sorry, Y/n, but Senku told me to keep you awake.” He sits beside you on the grassy hill behind the apartment, fingers shifting at the slight dew left from the morning's rain. “Plus, it isn’t safe to fall asleep here at night with only two kids to protect you.” 

“Of course, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You laughed, sitting up straighter. “I’ll be a hundred percent awake from now on.”

“Are you tired, Y/n?” 

You hum. You wonder if this was just the unfiltered talk of a kid or genuine concern. Taiju always confused you. “It’s past midnight, Taiju. Are you not?”

“I meant–” he looks away, trying to find the right words. “Taking care of Senku– and me too, sometimes– do you ever… get tired?” He looks down, twiddling his thumbs in his lap while he brings his knees to his chest. “Before my parents–” he pauses, shakes his head, then continues. “They always looked exhausted. They worked so much just for me, and I– you’re doing it all by yourself right now, and I’m…” he stops himself when your hand brushes over his cheek. He hadn’t realized he had started crying until your thumb had wiped under his eyes. 

He looks up at you. Even with blurred vision, he can see your expression clearly– it’s the same way his parents looked whenever they thought he wasn’t looking. “I’m tired,” you say, smiling softly at him when his lip trembles. “But you two, despite the real pain in the butt Senku can be when he blows up my kitchen-” Taiju lets out a laugh, giving you a wobbly smile. “-are absolutely worth it.”

Desperation claws at your skin. Itching for an escape, praying, wishing, hoping for this to end. It’s futile. Each scream for release just echoes back to you, resounding in your head like a metronome. 

Just wake up. 

Suddenly, somehow, everything felt still. A piercing ring filled your ears before a notable crack was heard from above. You blink, and instead of feeling nothing, you see light. 

Senku. 

He’s standing in front of you, a pained smile on his face, and he looks older. While a wobbly smile creeps onto your face at the sight of him, happy to see him, there’s a part of you that’s sad that you’d clearly missed out on a few years of his life. 

“You grew up.” 

He laughs, soft, almost breathless. “I'm 23 now,” he says, shoulders dropping as an imaginary weight falls onto them. “But technically speaking, I’m well over 5,000 years old now. You are too, and a lot more people.” 

You blink slowly, furrowing your brows in confusion before your mouth opens in realization. Senku wants to say something to reassure you. He wants to tell you that everything was fine, and society had already been rebuilt– and would continue to grow till it returned to before.

But then you go and say something, words Senku assumed you’d say, ones he was prepared for, ones he wasn’t ready to hear.

“So he’s gone then, isn’t he?” 

“Are you emotionally unbalanced because Byakuya’s gone?” 

You turn your head, though you aren’t met with Senku’s curious (nosy) face. Instead, Doraemon stares back at you with a smile. “Are you worried about me, Senku?” 

A brief pause– “No.” he shifted under the blanket, unceremoniously popping his head out. “Just wanted to know if I should be scared for my well-being. Statistically speaking, if your norepinephrine levels are imbalanced, it can contribute to–” Senku stops his speech when you roll over on your other side, an agitated frown coming onto his face.

He lifts himself from the bed, sitting on his knees as he looks at you, and calculates his next move. 

 Then, he flops on top of you, grinning maniacally at the loud groan that falls past your lips when his body goes limp. “What’re you doing, you crazy kid!” Senku doesn’t reply. Instead, he nuzzles his head against your shoulder, pressing harder when you begin to laugh. 

“Preventing chemical imbalance. I’m ten billion percent certain your serotonin levels just shot through the roof.” He states, finally getting off you. “Parents love it when their kids show sudden affection; did you know that?” 

“I did.” You nod, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. “Your experiment was a success.” 

 “He is.” Senku’s voice is barely above a whisper, hands reaching for the glass disk on the table beside him. “Has been for a long time.” 

You hum. Your lack of response– at least, the one Senku thought you’d have– sends chills down his spine. “I’m glad you’re still here.” A bitter chuckle, filled with despair, leaves your lips– and Senku finally sees the tears start to fall. “I thought about you two this whole time, waiting for the day I’d just wake up, and now–” you sigh, resting your head in your hands. “I don’t even know.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He isn’t sure what to say either. It felt like his lips were sewn shut at the exact second he’d needed to deliver a comforting line– because that wasn’t his strong suit; it was Byakuya’s.

He thinks back to when he was a kid, the night before Byakuya would leave for America. What did the old man do to comfort you? To assure you that everything would work out? 

Senku narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the sudden blare of music coming from the living room, quiet laughter and hushed apologies blending into the unintelligible lyrics he couldn’t understand. It’s an English song, somber and quiet, a typical love song. 

His curiosity gets the better of him. 

He hugs the wall while he sneaks through the hallway, shuffling when he gets closer to the living room. The music is louder now that he’s closer; he wonders how he’d even managed to hear your laughter. Then he sees it. 

Bodies pressed against each other as you swayed to the music, entwined hands resting on his shoulder, and your cheeks looked like they were smushed together. Byakuya’s lips were moving, and even though Senku couldn’t hear him, he knew he was just singing along. Terribly, he assumes, judging by your laugh. 

He stands there watching for a few more seconds before turning on his heel and retreating to his room. But he comes back again, camera in hand, and sneakily takes a few pictures before leaving the two of you alone. 

It was the last time you’d see him for a while anyway. He wasn’t going to intrude on that.  

Wordlessly, Senku takes your hand away from your face, holds it near his shoulder, and awkwardly places his other hand on your bicep. 

Then he starts humming. 

That same song from all those years ago. 

He started to sway hesitantly. Even if it was a simple motion, initiating it after you were seconds away from falling apart was a little odd. 

“I never thought I’d get you to dance,” you murmur, voice light from how hard you were trying not to cry. “I figured it’d be on your wedding day, but I honestly couldn’t even imagine you getting married, as bad as that sounds.” 

He shrugs, looking at the floor. “I don’t find marriage necessary. It’s all just social expectations– I don’t need a certificate to tell me I love someone.”

“That’s… sweet.” 

“I would’ve said it to you and Byakuya before you two got married. Tell you it was all unnecessary money spent for a ritual that virtually changed nothing other than your social status.” You hum, Senku figures you wouldn’t have cared regardless. “But I was what– four when you did?” 

“Mhm, back when you were just a cute little kid who was only curious about when Doraemon would be playing on the TV.” 

“Hey, if I never got interested in science, who knows where we’d be right now.” 

He choked down the laugh that wanted to come out after his words when he felt your grip on his hand tighten slightly. 

Right. If he’d been a normal kid, maybe Byakuya would still be here. 

You shake your head suddenly, tearing Senku away from the thoughts that crept into his head. “I’m glad you did; life would’ve been much more boring if you hadn’t.” 

“But Byakuya–”

“Would agree with me,” you said before he could finish his sentence. “You know he would. He sold his car just to get you equipment because he saw that spark in you, Senku. He coughed up his credit card whenever you asked cause he knew you weren’t wasting it on stupid things. I wasn’t as giving when it came to money, but I still supported you, right?” 

He nods. Was he getting lectured right now? “You never liked it when I experimented.” 

“I didn’t like it because I was afraid you’d get hurt.” With a lighthearted scoff, you say, “Remember what happened after the explosion at the river bank? I grounded you for a week.”

Senku shudders at the memory. You made him eat natto by the pound, and he hated it. But he was glad you weren’t the type of parent to take away his interest. Heaven knows if you prevented him from doing science, he’d rat you out to Byakuya. 

“I loved hearing you chat my ear off about your latest discovery when I was making dinner or kept me up past midnight because you wanted to watch a meteor shower, telling me I was only there for parental supervision when I knew that wasn’t the case.” 

“It might’ve not been normal to you, but it was to me.” 

Senku nods. If he said anything more, it would just end in another lengthy lecture about how he was wrong. So he stays quiet, continues to sway around with you in the empty room, pushing the lingering thoughts to the back of his mind, and savors this moment. 

“I’ll keep bugging you then,” he mutters, shutting his eyes when your hand rubs circles on his back. “Just like back then. So you can have an ounce of normalcy.” 

a/n: does the song fit as much as I thought it did. chat. chat what do we think.

[batglare101]

7. Aquashine

he makes the animators quake in their boots.. probably difficult to draw but I love his design. his tail is supposed to be flat- like crocodiles and alligators to help him a little when he swims. I'd imagine his fur to have like a silky texture.

[janitetsu]

Househusband Kureishi Headcanons!

wc: 1,550 Happy birthday, Mitsuyo!! The more I see of him, the more I swoon and fall in love. One of the newest additions to my Kengan Husbands tier. ^0^ Who are the rest? Well...you will find out soon.

WARNINGS: - mostly gender-neutral s/o, mentions of pussy, gendered spousal terms, creampie mention, breeding mention

As per Strike it Rich chapter 39, this man is a smooth talker. If he can freely call other ladies beautiful, what more with the person he’s decided to spend the rest of his life with? Gives you compliments anytime, anywhere. He is so shameless about it, too

Gives you cute nicknames (sweetie, sweetheart, darling, wifey), and said nickname is also your name in his contacts list. When you’re calling, he will definitely make some buzz about it, whether he’s massaging someone’s joints in his orthopedic clinic, training Cosmo and Adam (or Nozomi, Nozomin as he calls her, from ISSK) in his dojo, or just hanging out with Joji.

Kureishi: Oho, what’s this? My sweetheart is calling me, excuse me~ (He earns eye rolls from Adam and chuckles from Cosmo and Nozomi)

Joji: Your wife/husband/partner never hits you. I’m jealous, Kureishi.

Maybe I’m too woke but I HATE how Joji’s domestic abuse and eye-scratch scar are played for laughs because it’s done by his wife each time he comes home from drinking T.T Anyway…

He WILL help out with all the household chores and offer to do them for you. His favorite chore is ironing clothes. 

When he sees you already doing chores, he will always offer to take over. Afterwards, he gives you a massage: his expertise! This man canonically has many certificates not just for being a great martial artist, but also for being a skilled chiropractor. You get Japan’s best chiropractor to give you massages…for free!

If you put him in charge of cooking, he’s going to have a bias towards cooking and serving his own favorite food: curry. After a while of just curry rice, though, he learns to cook different varieties of curry like Thai Curry and Filipino Curry (Kare-Kare), among others.

Compared to his gladiator/fighting arena days in Fist of the Seeker, he’s really mellowed out and will continue to be just as chill in marriage. His “bone-breaking fetish” is purely towards opponents and people he deems dangerous to his loved ones (though he *does* feel some tingles when massaging you and hearing some joints or bones crack. Don’t worry. Unlike before where he’d just “rub one out” in the shower, he’ll kindly ask you to help him with his “problem”, should it get “bigger and harder”.)

 Will only “revert” back to his old ways when he has to beat up someone who wronged you. He was protective of Koga, again, what more with his life partner?

Loves wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your head (or shoulder if you’re taller) and barraging you with compliments while doing so.

“You smell so good, as always.”, “You’re so cute, so beautiful/handsome.”, “How’d I get so lucky?”, “God, I love you so much.”

Never really thought he’d settle down, given his gladiator past and current background (famous national mixed martial artist/coach and awarded chiropractor). Many have tried, but he either found them shallow, or he just didn’t have the time due to his busy schedule given that he’s got two jobs.

Bought a house after you two got engaged. His apartment days were over the moment you passed 2 years of dating. He was already looking to buy a house and just never told you.

Money was and will never be a problem. Years after the events of FOTS, he’s likely earned quite a bit of cash given that he’s now famous all over Japan as a martial artist and chiropractor. Never had anything else to spend on besides equipment and maintenance of his dojo and clinic, which are in adjacent buildings (to maximize the space and minimize the cost of maintenance and travel). Because of this, he loves spoiling you and getting you little trinkets that you mentioned in passing liking, or outright expensive things you request for. A Rilakkuma teddy bear? Noted. Vivienne Westwood designer goods? Noted as well. Be careful what you randomly say, he WILL end up buying it later. (“Hey, this one looks cool/cute!”, pretends to not notice). 

He (most likely) lives in TOKYO! His dojo and clinic are canonically located in Ochanomizu and he most likely lives within the area, too. Living expenses in Tokyo are insane, a rough estimate being 158,000 yen (over 1000 USD, or 60,000 PHP in my currency). Trust me when I say your future is secure with Mitsuyo.

Not really much of a drinker and only drinks on occasion, unlike his old pal Joji. Perhaps during anniversaries, special holidays, or birthdays. He always advises his orthopedic clinic patients to not drink booze and opt for water instead (Danberu Chapter 21), so you bet he’ll do his best to apply the advice he always gives them to himself.

Will ease off the teasing in the honeymoon stages of your marriage (he’s in the “Swooning, I can’t believe this is my reality now”-rose-tinted shades phase) but goes back to it after a few months or so.

Being the youngest of five siblings, he’s probably gotten tasked with looking after nieces and nephews. I like to think this is one of the reasons he’s a natural at teaching. Because of this, he has never-ending patience. Need help with improving at any chore? He’s got you covered. Prepare for a lot of teasing when he’s teaching you, though. He loves getting a rise out of you. When you’ve reached a “boiling” point, he kisses you on the forehead, cheek, or lips, depending on the severity.

“My sweetheart, so cute, even when you’re angry. Even when your brows are almost one because of how much you’re scowling ♡. I love you so much ♥. (PUNCH HIM!!! You try; he catches your fist and chuckles before kissing it. HE IS INSUFFERABLE!!!)

Related to above, is experienced with kids. Definitely wants lots of them. Proposes to outdo his older siblings and have four or five children. Is excited to get to the point of your married life where you get to call each other “Mama”, “Papa”, “Mommy”, or “Daddy”.

“How is Mama doing today, hmmm ♥?”, “Mitsu…really…?” “No, no, you should be saying “Papa” ♥”

Your kid: “Papa, Papa! I want—” Kureishi: “Hmmhmm, ask Mama/Daddy/Mommy ♡”

Your kid: “Papa, can I go outside to play?” Kureishi: “Mm, I don’t know, can you?”

Teases his kids too, but his favorite person to tease will always be you.

If you can have biological children, they will have his natural pink hair. Sorry. (I refuse!! the anime’s color choice!!! PINK-HAIRED KUREISHI is the only valid Kureishi!)

NSFW

Has gotten around before dating you, mostly short flings, never anything too long-term because of his busy schedule.

Sex…in his chiropractor uniform. Have you SEEN how tightly snug that damn uniform is on him? It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. His muscles and chest are ready to burst out at the seams. He’s definitely closed up shop early or heck, spontaneously to fuck you on his massage table.

Sometimes (around a 50/50 chance. THAT kind of sometimes), massages can lead to sex, it’s up to you if you want to stop his advances or let him continue. He can’t help himself—he loves you too much.

You’re lying on your chest, eyes closed and smiling, thinking today is a normal Mitsuyo Massage Day…and then as he’s massaging your back, he snakes his arm under and fondles your chest, his calloused fingers playing with your nipples. Well. Looks like you were wrong today.

HATES being belittled. Ask him “Is that all you got?”, “Can you go any slower?”, “Is this it?”, “Are you really a martial artist?” and you will open the (white) flood gates. You WILL get folded in half, you WILL get creampied many times, and you WILL not walk for weeks. He will NOT massage you afterwards to teach you a lesson. During these times, aftercare will mostly consist of kisses and praises.

“Hmm?? It hurts? Well, that’s what brats like you get ♡.” *kisses u*

Holds your hand during sex and loves brushing his thumb over your wedding ring. It’s mark and proof that you’re his. (though he does love marking you inside, too)

I WILL make everyone have breeding kinks and LOVE the mating press!!!

Can go for many rounds. He’s a martial artist, what do you expect? Him being in his mid-thirties isn’t an obstacle, either.

A good 6.5-7 inches, not too girthy, but can give you a good stretch. Cum taste ranges from nothing to just a bit salty, making it easy to swallow despite the slight thick texture.

His crushing grip on your thighs, legs, waist, or hips leaves bruises. He does that on purpose. He doesn’t want to break his beloved’s bones, but he does want to leave marks.

Pussy-eating expert!!! Never gets exhausted and will never complain about his tongue being tired or numb. RIDE HIS FACE and he will be a happy man. No such thing as too heavy for this martial artist.

Overall: amazing husband, amazing sex skills, ALWAYS knows what he’s saying and doing. 1000/10

[coffeeaddictbluebird]

Limbo - Charles Leclerc

Summary: Charles invites her to dinner, and she doesn't know how to feel about it. WC: 0.8K Warning: None. Genre: Angst?

She entered the quaint restaurant that Charles had chosen for the evening. It did not go unnoticed that it was an Indian establishment—her favourite cuisine. She was beginning to regret this decision; it was starting to hurt her heart already. Her tired eyes scanned the mostly empty venue. He was sitting in a corner, facing the door, quietly perusing the menu as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He looked up just as she caught sight of him, as if he was subconsciously aware of her presence. He nodded at her— acknowledging her presence just enough. Nothing more, nothing less.

He didn’t even get up to greet her. She was vexed that it bothered her; even a little. She quickly crossed the small space and sat across from him. She glanced at the menu, as she waited for him to speak. Two could play this game. She asked the server for a simple chicken curry and rice, and a light frown appeared on her face for less than a second upon hearing his order—a decaf latte. Even more pins pricking her heart as she realised she had lost the right to comment on his choice for dinner. She sat there, staring out at the street and mulling over the fact that he could converse with the server, but not with her. What had happened to them?

They were here because he told her he had something to say. Minutes passed in silence. The server returned with their orders, and she began eating. The fact that the silence was still slightly comfortable between them, even after all this time, vexed her. She was content just eating in his presence. The memory of the last time she felt this kind of peace was just out of reach. She cursed her heart, realising that she did not even possess it. It was with him, tucked away somewhere, albeit securely. More pinpricks. That seemed to be the running theme of this meet.

She quickly finished her meal, still without a single word from Charles. She was trying not to shy away from the fact that he was observing her. His gaze scrutinised every bite, every sip of her buttermilk. The server cleared away their table, placing a bowl of lemon water for her. She glared at him as he picked up the bill, but said nothing. This whole ordeal had left her feeling like a fool for being here. She thought she might receive answers to at least some of the questions that have been keeping her up at night. 

She gathered her things. “Say what you need to say, or I’m leaving. I don’t have time for this.”

“I have nothing to say,” he replied, his calm exterior unchanged. She frowned.

“Then why did you invite me to dinner?” She was entirely frustrated now. This did not make sense.

“Because you haven’t been eating properly. You’ve lost weight.” He averted his eyes. She wished she had had some kind of warning for that response.

“I’m confused, Charles.” He frowned at that. He did not remember the last time she had called him that. “What are we? Are we broken up, or did we fight?” He noticed how her nostrils flared. He would never not find it cute. “What are we? Are we going to break up, are we still fighting, or did we break up? He flinched.

“I’m still in the process of getting over you,” was the only answer he could give. That was the only answer he had. He didn’t know why either.

“So you are still doing it.” A single tear rolled down her eye, her throat closing up as she tried to control herself from breaking down in front of him. The scene was a bitter reminder that sent him back to that cruel night.

“Please let me give up.” Why was he pleading? Maybe because she still held all the strings.

“Next time, instead of feeding me, answer me. Tell me whether we are breaking up.” She swiped harshly at her eyes.

With that, she stood up and left. He slumped down in his chair, staring at the door and hoping for it to open again. Waiting for her to come back, climb into his lap, and tell him it was all a stupid fight. And that they were okay.

His phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, not knowing why he was expecting her to text him after this fiasco. All he found was a credit in his bank account, roughly equivalent to her share of the meal. It felt like a knife piercing through his heart. She had never paid him back. Not after their second date. She always reciprocated by doing something for him, buying him things, or paying the next time they went out. A grave realisation dawned upon him. Opening the banking app on his phone, he quickly picked up his keys and ran out.

A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading my work. Please like, reblog and follow for more content. Let me know if you want a part two. This fic was inspired by a scene in a K-Drama called Descendants of the Sun. The side couple in the drama have a similar conversation, but the setting and the plot is something totally different from the actual drama.

Chapter 2

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

An a/b/o fic with maybe Bruce Wayne or Arthur curry, where they have been searching for their omega for most of their life, and when they are fighting a villain fem reader comes in and helps them, I was thinking that reader she has telekinesis or something and, she helps them and they are blown away by her, never thinking that their omega could be a hero as well

.⋆｡Crashing Waves｡⋆.

alpha!Arthur Curry x plus size reader

He has been looking for her for his whole life and she arrived just in time

Warnings: a/b/o, true mates, hero!reader, omega!reader, violence against robots, reader is shorter than Bruce and Arthur (but who isn’t), implied smut WC: 1.4k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Even after serving as Atlantis’s king for five years now, Arthur doubted he would get used to the searing smell of salt that constantly clung to everything around him. It burned his nostrils even when he was lounging around the JL tower and part of him wondered if he would ever be able to properly scent out his mate while the sea constantly invaded his senses. Though even before he claimed the throne, he wasn’t exactly successful on that front.

He felt like he had searched everywhere for his omega, the biological urge deep down in his chest driving him to scour every inch of the earth for them. But they had eluded him and even if his parents (themselves being true mates) assured him that the right omega would appear when the time was right, he remained alone with the smell of the sea. 

Arthur was almost glad, at times, for a good fight. Smoke, sparks from his trident, even blood gave him a break from the usual salt that surrounded him, temporarily cleansing his pallet so to speak. But maybe not today he thought with a wince.

Hundreds of broken robots surrounded him, the never-ending wave of enemies only getting thicker as his exhaustion began to mount. Batman was somewhere deep in the crowd, attempting to override their programming as Arthur tried to keep him safe enough. New enemies were always a pain in the ass but this one was definitely levels above the other newbies they fought. And Arthur was already fantasising about what he’d do to the skinny little white guy as soon as he got his hands on him, that is if Batman didn’t get to either of them first.

“Is there any way to hurry this up!” He shouted above the screaming of gears and failing electronics. 

“This would go faster if you stopped hitting them at me.” The Bat growled as he hit yet another firewall in their programming. Arthur took another swing of his trident, knocking away a flying robot that had gotten way too close to his partner’s head for comfort. It let out a high pitched whine as it was launched into the horizon.

“This would be faster if you didn’t type in the wrong code to begin with!” A batarang screamed past his ear, landing right in the huge glowing eye of the robot hovering just over Arthur’s right shoulder. Oil sprayed from its side, coating Arthur’s hair. 

A deafening roar sounded through the empty field as another shipping container rose from the ground, releasing even more robots. Batman turned back to the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard all while the swarm closed in around them. “This is gonna hurt.” Arthur cocked back his shoulder and raised his trident, maybe he could knock out a few rows of them before they got too close and he’d have to switch to his fists. 

Just as he readjusted his grip to throw the trident into the thickest grouping of robots, everything went silent.

The now frozen robots hung in the air like someone had just paused time, though they still whirred and whined, their huge red eyes glowing even brighter. Then, with little more than a sharp click from somewhere to his right, they were pulled backwards, the mechanical bodies slamming into each other as they were forced together into one huge sphere hundreds of feet off the ground. 

“What the fuck?” Suddenly, the sphere crumpled like tin foil, the metal warping and collapsing until all that was left was a flat sheet of wires and dying LEDs. It slammed into the earth, disappearing behind the long grass as Batman’s screen turned green.

“Great timing there bats.” But Arthur’s tone held no bite, not when the salty smell of the ocean and ozone slammed into him. 

Immediately, every nerve in his body came to life, buzzing like he was drunk but his mind was clear, clearer than it ever had been before. A figure was walking through the grass, elegantly avoiding the mangled carcasses of their battle. As she approached, her scent became stronger and Arthur could now smell the subtle hint of something flowery like a warm spring breeze. 

The light of the sunset made her practically glow as she moved, her thick curves and perfect dips highlighted by a tight catsuit that looked like it was pulled straight from his teenage fantasies. 

“I hope I didn’t show up too late.” Her voice floated around him and Arthur’s knees buckled. 

“You’re right on time.” Her e/c eyes met his golden ones and he watched as her nose turned up and she took a deep breath of his scent. Her heavy chest hitched and her own scent turned sweeter. His stomach flipped as something deep inside him stretched awake for the first time in what seemed like years.

“Y/N. What took so long?” Batman crossed his arms as he looked down at her, his jaw ticking in anger. Yet her expression never faltered, in fact she glanced at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. Her smile was bright, shining with something ethereal. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that you gave me a coded message with the coordinates instead of being a normal person and sharing your location with me? I may have psychic powers but I suck at math dude.” 

“That was you?” Arthur hadn’t noticed that his body was moving on its own until he finally spoke again and she had to crane her head almost all the way back to make eye contact with him. Warmth unlike anything he had experienced before bloomed through his chest as she leaned towards him, fluttering her lashes up at him.

“I have a lot of tricks better than that.” Her scent was almost overpowering now but all he wanted to do was drown in it. Y/N’s shoulder brushed against his pec and something snapped.

The world tilted on its axis and he suddenly knew what his parents were talking about when they said that the moment they met, nothing else mattered. “Omega.” 

Her body sagged into him as she breathed out an almost inaudible “alpha”. His trident dropped unnoticed to the ground. 

“I’ve finally found you.” She fell easily into his arms, like they had been made to hold her. She pressed her face as close as she could get, her words muffled against the thick armour but he could hear her clearly all the same. 

“You stole my line,” he whispered into her hair, breathing her scent as much as he could, “I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Who knew I’d find you after you saved my life?” Her giggle made his heart swell with affection and pride.

“You’ve obviously been looking in the wrong place.” Y/N looked up at him as he cupped her full cheek with a massive hand, guiding her face upwards. His eyes dropped to her lips.

“I could say the same about you.” He leaned down and just as his lips were about to touch hers-

“Alright that’s enough,” Bruce snarled, “need I remind you both that there’s still a villain we need to deal with.” 

Y/N never looked away from Arthur, in fact she wound an arm around his neck and tugged him even closer. His alpha roared to life, hyper-focusing on the softness of her curves beneath his hands. “You go ahead, I think my alpha and I have done more than enough heavy lifting for the day, we have better things to do.”

“I’m going to regret asking but what exactly is more important than dealing with a potentially global threat?” Arthur smirked, catching on to the game she was playing.

His right hand dropped from where it was resting on her wide hip down to the plump cheeks of her ass. “I’m going to rip her clothes off and fuck her brains out right in this field. So unless you’re into that stuff-“ she slapped his chest at that, “-then I suggest you move on, Bats, cause right now, nothing is going to stop me from claiming my omega.”

“You two are disgusting.” He grumbled and walked off, finally leaving the newly discovered mates alone.

“Now where were we?” Arthur purred before Y/N yanked him down and finally kissed him, making the smell of the ocean explode around them.

Her scent had been haunting him for years, etching itself into his mind and suddenly, Arthur loved the smell of salt again because it meant that he finally had his omega.

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