#fluff snippet

[writtenbyan-aries]

Just thinking about sitting outside on your porch with Matt, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you watch him hand out Halloween candy to each kid that comes running up with their bags and buckets with so much excitement.

No warnings at all, just pure a fluffy snippet/blurb

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

“Trick or treat!”

“Whoaa! Nice costume buddy!” Matt smiles, reaching out to drop the candy into his bag, “Here you go! Happy Halloween!”

You smirk, smiling at the little girl that comes running up to you, “Trick or treat!”

“Look at you! You look beautiful!” You smile, letting her pick out a piece of candy, “Happy Halloween!”

You glance over at Matt who is sitting there looking at you. You smile shyly, “What?” He shakes his head, “Nothing, just.. thinking..”

He turns his attention to the group of children running up giggling, “And who do we have here? A firefighter, a power ranger and someone who has the same costume as me!”

“You’re a cowboy, too!?” The child asks, “Where is your hat?”

“My hat? Oh, yep. I forgot I took it off.” Matt looks around, grabbing his cowboy had from beside him, “Here we go, how about that?”

The child smiles and nods, “I like it!”

Matt smiles big and drops some candy into their bags and buckets, “Have fun tonight, kids!”

“So..” you rest your chin in your hand, your elbow on the armrest of the chair, “You were.. thinking.. about?”

He sighs, “what it’ll feel like to take our own kids trick or treating someday. what they’ll want to be.” He shrugs, shaking his head with a slight laugh, “It’s dumb.”

“It’s not stupid, Matt.” You stand up, moving your chair closer to him, “In fact, I think it’s really sweet that you’re thinking about a future with me.”

He looks over at you, giving you a smile and he sighs, his tone going into country mode, “Aw shucks, darlin’ why don’you, bring those lips over here t’mine.”

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

Thanks for reading. I love you so much. Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[the-modern-typewriter]

Can you please write something where the villain has to take care of the hero’s wounds. Thanks! I absolutely love your writing!

"Don't bloody touch me."

"Your wounds will get infected without the right care."

"Then get one of your lackeys to do it," the hero snapped. "But you - you -" Their throat tightened. Maybe because there were no words to describe the villain, the thing that had once been their friend. Maybe because there were too many words, and they all crowded the hero's windpipe, making it difficult to breathe.

The villain considered them, head tilting, still clutching the first aid kit in their hands.

The hero let out a breath between gritted teeth, tugging at the chains holding their wrists useless above their head.

The villain gave an unreadable sort of hum, then stepped forward with the first aid kit anyway. They knelt. It felt like getting kicked in the jugular.

"If you headbutt me," the villain said, "you'll just get even more restrained. You won't like it. It will set off your claustrophobia."

"Then don't touch me. Don't - why - don't act as if you give a crap."

"Of course I do." The villain took a pair of scissors out first, cutting away the hero's trousers so that they couldn't get at the ruined skin on their leg. Their hands were terribly gentle as they cleaned the cut. "I mean, I also need you alive. But. You know."

"If you gave a crap about me you wouldn't do this. Any of this."

"Ah, love. You're mistaking care with being my first priority," the villain said. "You are, as ever and always, my third."

The hero scoffed, bitterly. Stupid tears threatened to well in their eyes and they jerked their head away, glad, at least, for the sting of disinfectant as an excuse.

They knew the exact list without asking.

The villain's grand plans. Their power.

The villain's life.

The hero's life.

As ever. As bloody always.

The villain glanced up, unerringly finding the hurt.

"I say mistaken," the villain kept their voice light, their hands busy. "It's closer to you thinking it doesn't count, right? If you're not everything?"

The hero's jaw clenched. The tears rolled down, as they knew the tears would, if the villain insisted on touching them with those familiar hands. They were so different, and yet they smelled the same up close, same body wash and shampoo or whatever as they'd always had. Amber. Their touch was the same, precise and dangerous and oh so careful. The hero would know it anywhere. Because, well...

You were everything to me.

It was the fundamental, rotting, entirely infected truth of their relationship.

"What would that team of yours think if they knew you only do what you do to - what? Spite your ex? Get them back?" the villain asked. They moved from disinfectant to the needle and thread.

"You killed people! You need to be stopped. It's not - it's never enough for you! All the power and it's never going to be enough for you, is it? You're a monster."

"And you still want me." The villain smiled at them, blandly. "Worst thing that ever happened to you. That I ever did to you. Is love a thing one does to another, like violence, do you think?"

"You disgust me."

"Mm. Would you like to bite down on something before I give you stitches? Or do you want to take this as an opportunity to work on biting your tongue?"

"I'm not going to stop."

"Of course not. That would require moving on."

The hero snarled, feeling feral, feeling animal. Feeling like they hated that the villain had reduced them to that. All blood, and exposed nerves and bones sticking out where they shouldn't be.

The thread went in and out, in and out.

"Pressure on the wound," the villain said, softly. Then they shoved their hands down hard enough to make the hero whimper, make them writhe. The villain watched. They held on a beat longer than needed, capturing a pained gasp with a press of lips. A nip of teeth. It couldn't really be called a kiss. "You think I'd ever, ever, let my lackeys put their hands on you? You're mine."

Then it was gone, and the hands were gone, and the villain deftly did their bandages as the hero slumped. Clammy with cold sweat.

"And I will always give you the right care you need." The villain straightened, they loomed, looking down at the hero. "Get some rest. It's good to see you again."

They left with the hero still swearing at their back.

[illbegottenfaith]

Masterlist

all works are theodore nott x fem!reader

au's

older brother!theo 💙

politician's son!theo

drabbles

the one where theo asks you out to a wedding (fluff)💙⚡️(Part 1)

the one where you make theo cry (fluff, comedy) 💘⚡️

the one where you scold theo for dozing off (fluff, established r/ship, eepy theo) ⚡️

love me like a child (angst, first person reader)

the one where theo gets glasses (fluff, established r/ship)⚡️

✌️

fics

ferrari

"Please don't tell me you're giving me the car. Respect for other people's property is the only thing stopping me from driving this off a cliff."

"I'm not giving it to you," he said, as your fingers curled uncertainly around the metal. You relaxed.

"I'm teaching you how to drive it."

You laughed. Then stopped laughing.

“You’re serious?”

You were glad it was the middle of the night with nobody around, because you were gaping at him rather unbecomingly.

"Dr - drive this? Are you crazy?"

"I'm picking up a pattern here. I'm starting to think you have a very low bar for insanity."

as part of a social visit, you spend a fortnight at an English politician's estate with his god-awful son (politician's son!theo x american socialite!reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity)

that one girl from summer camp

"Zabini," you said, much more impatiently, taking a step towards him. He let out a strangled sort of sound and stepped back.

"No. I already told Theo I want no part in this - this game of yours."

You scoffed. Someone had to have given him a heads up. "Was it Draco? Was he the one who told you?" That slimy eyesore of a snitch.

"It doesn't matter," Blaise was saying, more preoccupied with finding a way out now that you were drawing closer, closing in on him. "I want nothing to do with it. This is between you and Theo."

You laughed weakly.

"Honestly, Blaise. I just want to have a little chat with you! There's nothing wrong with that. Why are you - where are you going? Why are you walking away from me? Blaise? Why are you run - Zabini! Stop running! TELL ME WHO THEO'S TAKING TO THE - "

you drive yourself up the wall trying to figure out who your best friend is taking to your year's farewell dinner (fluff, friends to lovers, jealous!reader ft. the Slytherin boys)

Icarus Spell 💙

Theo squinted, trying to make out the silhouettes of his roommates. “Why are you all listening to me sleep?”

"Kind of hard not to," came Enzo's peeved disembodied voice from somewhere in the shadows. Theo sighed.

"Well," he said wearily, massaging his stiff neck, "what was I saying?"

Mattheo cracked an eye open. "I wasn't listening so much as trying to get you to shut up."

"Oh."

"I had a pillow ready."

"I bet."

"To smother you."

"Yeah, I get it." Theo grumbled, pushing back his covers. “Go back to sleep. All of you.”

theo doesn't realise you're what he's been dreaming about. Or, keeping him up, to be more accurate (fluff, friends to lovers)

do you exist? or have I made you up? 💙

Your chest tightened.

“Where are you going?” you asked drowsily, too sleep-addled to have the sense to disguise your suspicion.

Theo wasn't looking at you. He was staring out into the too-bright wasteland of what was left of the night's storm, beneath clouded skies.

"...out. Just stepping out for a quick smoke."

"In that jacket?"

He finally deigned to look your way.

"It's cold out."

You sat up slowly, looking at him through the half-dark. The silence between you wasn’t angry. You wished it were. But it was full. Heavy. Knowing.

Theo moved through his room slowly, occasionally adding to his unassumingly deep pockets. You watched him blearily. Miserably. It made sense, after all. Running away was the best thing Theo could do for himself and his family. You should have seen this coming. Maybe you did see it coming. Gut feeling, and all that. You wanted to sulk, even if it was just so that he would have to stay to cheer you up. You wanted to yell at him, berate him for leaving you.

years after theo, now presumed dead, walked out of you life, you see him once again on your television screen (angst, soft!theo, a little fluff)

BAD REVIEWS

Before you could continue your protests, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles in full view of half of your year, completely unbothered.

“Your stuff’s in the boot. Packed it this morning.”

Your mouth dropped open. How did he manage to get into the girls' dormitories?

“You what—?”

“There’s snacks,” he continued, unrepentant. “I even charmed the glove compartment to keep your disgusting fizzy drinks cold." Traces of the Theo you knew started resurfacing. He sounded pretty damn proud of himself. "You’re welcome.”

“You’re mental.”

“And you’re exhausted.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Come on, Y/N. You can revise in bed with me and a view of the sea. There’s a fireplace. I booked the biggest suite they had.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your palm. Your face burned.

"Please? For me?"

You should’ve walked away. You meant to walk away.

But he had that look again - the one he used to reel you in after every fight. The one you couldn't bear to tell off. That soft-eyed, unwittingly innocent look like he wasn't even capable of doing anything wrong, let alone on purpose. Behind him, the sunlight hit the car just right, glinting off the chrome like some surreal, too-good-to-be-true movie scene.

It was stupid. And ridiculous. And maybe that was the point.

you've heard more than your fair share of bad reviews about theo nott. that doesn't stop you from becoming the newest addition (lovebombing, possessive!theo, angst)

world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful ⚡️

Theo thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Dunno. Something like…you’ll be the only ever one none before you ever were. I knew you before I knew the kind of person I wanted to be. And it's a sad thing to see your favourite person leave.”

Silence.

Ivy blinked. Mattheo’s mouth fell open slightly.

“...what the fuck, mate,” Mattheo breathed.

theo doesn't realise this is NOT how best friends normally feel (bsf!theo, oblivious theo, comedy)

new girl*

Theo wasn’t the type to notice things like that - things like the flush creeping down your neck, the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted slightly as you sighed, exasperated by the heat. But his gaze lingered anyway.

You looked up yourself, and almost immediately your eyes found Theo's. You returned his stare with a steely look of your own. You quirked up an eyebrow. He refused to look away, unabashed. For some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to feel embarrassed over having been caught staring.

He hadn’t meant to look, and he certainly hadn’t meant to wonder. But the thought burrowed deep in his mind before he could stop it.

How far down does that flush go?

theo doesn't have a crush. he merely likes the way you blush (fwb!theo, slightly suggestive content, tw reckless driving)

stutter 💙⚡️

"You look - " he started, then faltered.

Shit.

"Y-you l - l -"

Silence.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, slow and smug, realisation dawning on your face. A wicked smile unfurled across your face. He wasn’t getting out of this alive, was he?

"Do you not know how to talk?" you demanded, eyes glittering with suppressed mirth. "Is this your first day on planet Earth?"

Theo clenched his jaw, crossing his arms in a futile attempt to feign indifference. "Shut up."

something about you and your features reawakens theo's stutter (fluff, comedy, banter)

stuck with you

You can practically see him puffing out his chest on the showier tricks he does with laser-focused concentration. It makes you want to laugh, his almost childish need to be impressive. To impress others. To impress you.

But, for reasons that eluded you, you were impressed. Not once had Theo ever let you down. It was as though he was incapable of it. You didn't exactly rely on him, but when he was around, his deep, self-assured voice was guaranteed to soothe your frazzled nerves. Even now, when all you wanted to do was bitch and moan about how you were never going to see the light of day again, he somehow managed to distract you, amuse you. Theo always knew how to turn a bad situation around and, well, to someone as catastrophic as you, what could sound more appealing?

you get stuck in the Room of Requirement with a not-so-distant acquaintance and realise there's no where else you'd rather be (mutual pining, fluff, happy ending)

kiss me better, love 💘💙⚡️

“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"

Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”

“You don’t think before you do things.”

Theo groans. “I think plenty.”

“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (fluff, bickering as foreplay)

you must have just read it in my eyes💘

Without looking back, you reached behind and wordlessly pulled Theo along so he wouldn’t lag behind, all while your conversation with Ivy continued unbroken and unfettered.

It was such a small thing. Thoughtless, instinctive. You hadn’t even glanced at him.

But Theo had looked at you, and for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

over the years, Theo realises just how much you mean to him, bit by bit (fluff)

for the rose and the pearl 💙 (Part 2)

For a moment, you let yourself sink into it.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget.

But then the thought creeps in—quiet, insidious.

I’m not that girl.

attending Mattheo's wedding with Theo makes you realise you're not the girl he could truly build a happy life with (angst)

saboteur (Part 3)

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You made a half-hearted attempt to raise your hackles as he took a slow step closer. Fighting was all you ever did with Theo, even at times when you weren’t sure if you really did want to fight with him, like now.

“Bathing,” you said flatly.

He raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching into something wry and unimpressed. “Clearly.”

From the right, a cheeky giggle floated through the warm, sticky air from the mermaid portrait. You flushed, crossing your arms over your chest as you sank a little deeper into the water.

“Go away, Nott.”

your self-sabotaging tendencies can keep theo away for only so long (hurt/comfort, angst)

sweet?! (Part 2)

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (fluff, slight angst, unacknowledged pining)

unadulterated loathing (Part 1) ⚡️

"She's doing this to me and she's doing it on purpose."

Mattheo had creased his forehead.

"Like a...like a hex?"

"No," Theo had said, distractedly scratching the hive that had appeared on the back of his hand. "It's worse than a hex. My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling, my face is flushing..."

"...oh," Mattheo had said, realisation dawning upon him. "I get it. It's lo-"

"That's it, Mattheo." Theo had interjected. "You're absolutely right."

"I am?"

"Yes, exactly. Loathing is what this is. Loathing." He had swivelled around, hatefully fixing his gaze on where you were laughing over some undoubtedly inane subject matter over butterbeer with your friends. "Unadulterated loathing."

yours and theo's feelings for each other evoke a deeply visceral physical reaction in both of you, for which there can be only one explanation (enemies to lovers, banter, mentions of injury)

for cryin' out loud! (miniseries) (ongoing)

...and a bruise underneath* (Part 2) ⚡️

His eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"Didn't want me to get mad?" Theo echoed incredulously. "Honestly, L/N," he said sharply, looking more than a little peeved, "what did you think I was going to do?"

"I don't know," you wailed, closer to tears than ever, "break up with me?"

Theo opened his mouth to respond before closing it again. He furrowed his brow, mouthing indecipherable half-words as if trying very hard to wrap his head around what you were saying.

you can't help becoming distant as your relationship with theo starts feeling like an open wound (angst, happy ending, comfort)

walking away with your kiss on my cheek... (Part 1) ⚡️

"So...two weeks."

"Mhm." You weren't the type of couple to explicitly express affection, especially of the vulnerable kind. You'd miss him, of course, even if you didn't say it. Would he miss you? You shook your head internally. No, you decided, you wouldn't ask. You'd only seem clingy and that wasn't the kind of couple you were. "Be good, have fun."

He adjusted the strap of his duffle bag. You fixed the collar of his jacket. You wondered if he'd tell you about Katherine before he left. From somewhere else in the Great Hall, one of his friends called him over. He pressed a final chaste kiss to your cheek. You watched him walk away with a hollow sort of feeling in your stomach. Merlin forbid you express any kind of attachment to your boyfriend.

He glanced back at you one last time, fidgeting with the strap of his bag, and just like that, he was gone.

Gone.

He didn't say a word about Katherine.

your relationship with theo starts to sour as you begin to suspect him of keeping secrets from you (angst, miscommunication, established relationship)

in sweetness 💙⚡️

"I'm fine, really," he had repeated, as he dragged your hand down to his chest, eyes lidded. "I'll sleep it off."

You had pressed your lips into a thin line, highly conflicted over how much you wanted to argue with a clearly sick patient. Your other hand had drifted to his scalp as you had distractedly started raking your fingers through his hair. Theo's lips had parted as he sighed in relief, melting further into his pillow.

"Just...just stay. For a while." His eyes had been fully closed by then. "I get the worst dreams when I'm sick."

You had run your thumb along your clasped hands. "What do you dream about?"

Theo had paused. "Terrible things," he had said after a moment, in a pleasant, light voice, as if you were merely discussing the weather. "Terrible things that I can't change."

He had no idea.

visiting theo's childhood home grants you a deeper understanding of his inner workings (angst, happy ending, friends to lovers)

merry christmas, please don't call ❄️

"I just - I just feel like lately...all we do is fight." You hated how small your voice sounded. You flinched as the memory of your last fight insistently pressed on barely-healed wounds. I don't hate you, you had said. I don't - I could never. No. I could never hate you, Theo. Over and over, you had repeated it like a mantra. What had you done all that for? Why did you care so much?

"Tough luck, Y/N," Theo said, his voice bouncing off the marble walls. "This is what couples do. They fight."

You drew your knees to your chest, trying to regulate your breathing. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. "I'm sick of it, Theo. I really am. Aren't you sick of it?"

one year on, you look back on the fight that ended yours and theo's relationship (angst, no happy ending)

can I take your order? ❄️🎂

Ivy paid, and the two of you found a table in the middle of the shop to wait at. You couldn't stop kicking yourself over the interaction. That was twice you'd made a fool of yourself in front of him now. Once your drinks were ready, Ivy fetched them. When she handed you yours, you turned the cup around in your hand. It felt like any other drink. You turned it a little more and your heart skipped a beat. There was your name scrawled in black ink, and at the end was a slightly untidy, yet unmistakable, heart.

"Aww," Ivy crooned, peeking over, "he likes you."

"Shut up," you mumbled, trying to hide your burning face. Still, when she wasn't looking, you ran a thumb over his writing, memorising every careless flick of his marker.

you get off on the wrong foot with the new barista at your hometown's coffee shop, but even your off-putting behaviour isn't enough to deter him (coffee shop au, fluff, one-sided reluctant acquaintances to lovers)

maybe stay here forever ❄️ 💙

"Don't," you whined, dragging his hand back to where it was a moment ago. "Let Enzo do it. We don't get to see enough of each other as it is."

Theo sighed. "So you're just never going to let me leave?"

"I can't help it," you said, "I like the way you speak. I love hearing you talk." You rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering close. "Promise you'll never quit talking to me."

"Done," he murmured against your lips, a hand sliding to the small of your back.

the holidays have you feeling sentimental over yours and theo's relationship (established relationship, domestic bliss, descriptions of grief and anxiety, angst)

spend your cookie dough dough dough ❄️⚡️

"Right," Theo said tersely, once he had planted you firmly back inside the tower, with a look that told you he thought you were being absolutely ridiculous, "I'll just give this to my other girlfriend, then."

"Theo -"

"No, no, I get it. Maybe I've misunderstood our relationship. I'll just shower all my love and affection on some other girl."

You frowned at him impatiently. "Don't sulk, Teddy. I love it, really, I do - "

"Then what's the problem? It's my money to spend as I see fit, Y/N. Maybe - maybe - it's a little pricey, but so what? A guy can't spoil his girl for the holidays?"

you have a hard time being spoiled by your boyfriend, even if it's the holidays (established relationship, fluff, gift-giving (theo's version))

handwritten (miniseries) (ongoing)

Look, he was the one who showed up at the window on his broom, drunk out of his mind.

Drunk??

I know! What was he thinking, risking his neck all the way up there at the Ravenclaw dorms?? It was like he didn't even notice too. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but then I opened the window and nope, that was him, and then I screamed and he nearly fell off his broom so I hauled him inside. He practically faceplanted on the floor. I was terrified - I thought he was poisoned or something, but then I tried to prop him up and he had this dopey look on his face and he reeked of firewhiskey. Ugh, it was so annoying. I don’t want to talk about it.

You know what he said to me? After all that?

I thought you didn’t want to talk about this?

Uh-oh.

Uh-oh?

Uh-oh. Like a goddamn Looney Tunes character.

yours and theo’s story as told through notes passed in class (estranged friends to lovers, newstudent!theo, fluff, slight angst) Part 1 | Part 2

symphonia ix 💙

"What are you doing here?" Theo asked conversationally, keeping his tone light, as if he found strange girls fully-clothed in bathtubs every day. You continued staring at the tiled wall in front of you. You felt rather than heard him crouch closer to you and tentatively hold your wrist, preparing to sling your arm over his neck.

“Let’s get you out of there, hmm?”

You twisted your wrist out of his grip and you felt him retreat minutely. “Get away from me,” you rasped, your voice brittle with disuse.

Theo was no longer able to disguise his stricken tone. "Tesoro, please. You'll feel better once you're dry and warm-"

theo helps you recover from a terrible case of burnout at his family’s lakehouse (brother's bsf!theo, hurt/comfort, descriptions of burnout, self-loathing)

lucky (miniseries) (finished)

“But - why? How? If anything, I’d say you hated me.”

Your lips parted as your brow furrowed. “What gave you that idea?”

“What gave me the - I don’t know, all the scowling? The glaring? The snide remarks? The bodily harm?”

You flushed at the memory of the Potions storeroom incident. You could kind of see his point. “That was one time.”

“You owe me new pants, by the way. New pants and a new di-"

a tussle over a vial of Felix Felicis proves to be strangely enlightening (academic rivals, enemies to lovers, slight angst/yearning) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

2001*

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Perhaps you like having me run after you. Is that where you get off, hmm? The thrill of the chase? Being a tease?”

“I am not a -“ you began hotly, before you caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You rolled your eyes. “You’re too cocky for your own good,” you muttered. 

“I thought you like me cocky,” he teased.

theo doesn’t understand what’s holding you back from taking things further (fluff, softcore smut)

bad day ⚡️💙

“Hey, doll.” His nose nudged yours and you finally relented, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed you. His face felt cool against your warm forehead, and he smelt pleasantly of some non-descript yet refreshing soap. 

“My neck is killing me,” you mumbled against his lips as you broke apart. Theo leaned back to get a better look at your wan face, distractedly running a hand down your spine.

a visit from your boyfriend perks you up even on the most frustrating of days (established relationship, fluff, comfort)

❄️ - xmas fics 💘 - valentines fics 🎂 - birthday fic! 💙 - author's favourites ⚡️ - top fics

[ominouspuff]

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

[fumiscripts]

✦ BUT I MISS YOU, COME HERE

Kaiser wonders why he feels like this.

He knows what it is, of course. It's that clawing, heavy feeling of missing someone. The type of yearning that has him frustrated at himself for feeling something as cringy as that. It's embarrassing, the way he wants to see your face. He wants to be within your presence. He wants to feel your hands on his face, fussing over how pretty he is in a way that makes him feel more flustered than smug.

No, he shouldn't even feel like this. Not when you're so confusing, constantly making him think that you're totally in love and then proceeding to be nonchalant. Ugh, you're so infuriating! Do you get a kick out of making him frustrated? You probably do. He can even hear your voice teasing him for longing like a loser. Always holding him tight and then letting him go.

Do you love him or not?

Why is he missing you, anyway! He's above that!

Kaiser slumps onto his bed, head hidden on the pillows and hoping that the ground eats him whole so that he doesn't have to face the fact that he's yearning.

You and your stupid face, stupid voice, stupid smile, stupid laugh, stupid way you run your hands through his hair before cupping his cheek and–

Damn it, he misses you. It's hard to see you when he's stuck in Blue lock, and god, he hates how he wishes you were right here.

He pulls out his phone, brows knitted as he opens your contact, hands gripping the device so hard it might break— if the way Kaiser's eyes were burning holes into your profile picture couldn't already crack the screen with how pointed they were— and typing out a message.

Kaiser considers telling you how you've been on his mind, quickly deleting that to save the last bits of his ego. He can't do that. Is he out of his mind? Instead, he types a ‘fuck you’, like that alone can show you how he feels.

He waited for a few moments, slightly lighting up when a bubble appeared, three dots animated, showing that you read his text and were drafting a reply. He expected a question mark or something, that would've made him feel a little better, knowing he got something like confusion out of you. It's a nice thought, considering you were always the one teasing him. But, of course, you will always turn things to your favor.

‘did u miss me that much?’

Kaiser throws his phone across the bed. No, he was not smiling. You're a cornball. He hates it. Ew. Cringe.

He definitely didn't hug, or rather, squish a pillow to his chest, wondering if you miss him, too.

masterlist

© fumiscripts 2024-2025. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna 6.5

this is not a part 7! this is just a lil snippet to show the day that reader and Yuji had together while Sukuna and Choso were at the mall (in part 6). I hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

As soon as Choso and Sukuna pulled away, Yuji rushed into your living room to get started on the finishing touches of his project. You followed with a laugh, joining him on the floor in front of the couch. The poster board was laid out, covered in images of different people.

It had surprised you when you first saw the pictures of you and of Choso on the board, making you tear up when you realized he considered you and your son important to him. You had quickly come to care about the pink haired boy, just as you had his uncle, so you felt honored.

The two of you got to work making the project more "artsy" and adding the last few details about each person presented and why they were there. Yuji's handwriting wasn't the best yet, so you did most of that (all his words though). He was filled with excitement as he told you about what each person meant to him.

When he spoke about his parents, he talked about how his mama made the best cookies, and had the prettiest voice when she sang. He talked about how his dad told the best stories, always coming up with the coolest hero's.

It wasn't the first time you had heard the boy talk about his parents. But it was the first time that you saw his grin dim while he did. You understood, you knew it was hard to handle, especially when he was so young.

"Yuji, honey, I know that things might be...hard right now, and I can't...can't really do anything to make that stop. But I want you to know that no matter what you need, I'm always here. Your uncle and Choso are too. I want you to know that you'll never be alone, okay?" You spoke softly, rubbing his hair fondly.

He was silent for a moment, playing with the glue.

"I know, miss y/n..thank you." He says. The grateful smile he gives you just reminds you how mature he is already. A bittersweet thing, surely.

The conversation quickly turned back to a lighter tone, both of you working together to make the project as presentable and "cool looking" as possible (according to Yuji). You let him take the reigns, watching him cover the white parts of the board in red and blue, smiling as he told you (again) about why Spiderman was the coolest superhero.

As the project comes to a finish and you both move away to let the glue dry, you watch as he stares at the pictures, his young eyes glancing between his parents. You see how sad he looks, and it makes sense. He talks about his family often, so it's not like that's new. But this project gave him the opportunity to hunt for pictures of them, gave him a reason to talk about them even more, to talk about what they mean to him. Now that it was over, you imagined he felt he wouldn't have a reason to do that anymore, not that he actually needed one.

So you stood up, bones cracking as you stretched, and gave him a smile.

"How about we leave that to set so we don't mess anything up, and make some cookies while we wait for Sukuna and Choso to get home?" You suggest. You watch the way his eyes light up at the mention on baking, and he quickly stands and runs towards the kitchen. You chuckled, amused by the fact that he could never sit still.

Following him, you start getting out the things needed to make the cookies, getting enough to make two or three batches. You knew the boys would devour them, and Sukuna would probably sneak a handful too, so you figured it was smart to have plenty. While you did that, Yuji ran off to find a speaker, running in to the kitchen with his signature large grin and placing it on the counter. You connected your phone, giving it to him to pick some music while you started prepping.

Yuji danced around as he 'helped' get the cookies ready, though he did more dancing than anything. Off tune singing, and the smell of cookies being baked filled your kitchen, wide smiles on both of your faces. His excitement didn't wane, even after the first batch was laid out to cool, and the second was in the oven. You admired his energy, though it was hard to keep up. He hardly stopped moving, and if he wasn't singing and dancing around, he was hoping from place to place around the kitchen. You had to keep an eye on him every time he went around the corner of the counter, not wanting him to get near the oven and get hurt. You redirected him by spinning him around, laughing along with him each time he got a little dizzy from it.

You were glad you could give him a moment like this, knowing the six year old needed and deserved to be carefree and happy, to forget about the grief even for a little.

When the second batch is almost ready to be pulled out, you and Yuji are singing along to one of the songs, Yuji pretending to play a drum (which he learned to do from Choso). The sound of footsteps get your attention, and your smile only grows when you see your son.

As the four of you get settled into the evening together, you can't help but hope that you and Choso get to be a part of more of those happy moments, for both Sukuna and Yuji.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Here's the little snippet of Yuji and reader! Sorry it's short, but since it's just a snippet, I didn't worry about length. I hope you guys like it, and I do plan to do more on the dynamics of reader & yuji, reader & choso, reader & sukuna, and the same with sukuna. lmk what you think, feedback is always appreciated and helps me improve, and Part 7 will be out soon!

barely proof read

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Could you please write something that is spicy and fluffy? I adore your writing!

“So…” the hero purred. They scratched three perfect lines into the villain’s forearm, their lips close to the villain’s ear. “…when are you going to regret having kidnapped me?”

The villain squeezed their eyes shut and waved with their hand, as if to shoo the hero again.

“I didn’t know you’d be this annoying, that’s for sure,” they said. They stared back at their phone and continued with the scrolling.

“You can also let me go…” the hero suggested. They grabbed the villain’s forearm and squeezed until the villain was staring at them. “…I mean, it’s kind of a waste of my talents. To sit here. Do nothing.”

“You’re always welcome to watch TV,” the villain said.

“That’s not exactly what I want.” They let their gaze crawl down the villain. “You know, you brought me here so, technically, you’re responsible for entertaining me.”

“Is that so?” They let their eyes drop to their phone again.

“Yeah. I get bored easily.”

“I can tell.”

“Come on. Let’s spar.”

“Not right now,” the villain said.

“Then tell me what you did today.”

“Burned down an orphanage and ran over three cute puppies,” the villain answered bluntly.

“You’re not funny.” The hero stopped leaning over the villain and stood up fully. They crossed their arms in front of their chest, their eyes narrowing.

It had been over a week and the hero was beginning to feel like this was getting somewhat ridiculous. On day one, they had tried to punch through the walls. On day two, they had used their powers. On day three, they had started questioning the villain.

To no avail - the villain wasn’t talking. Attacking the villain wasn’t going to lead anywhere, so, the hero was trying everything they could to get some information out of their nemesis.

Why on earth were they stuck in an apartment that was certainly not the villain’s with the villain coming and going whenever they pleased?

What was going on?

The hero took the villain’s phone.

“There’s no SIM card in there,” the villain said. They looked unimpressed. “In case you were planning on contacting anyone.”

“Talk to me, baby,” the hero said suddenly. They put the phone aside and sat down on the villain’s lap. Their hands found the villain’s neck easily and although their nemesis tried to look annoyed, they didn’t push the hero away. “Talk to me. Don’t be shy.”

“You’re really testing my limits here,” the villain whispered.

“Is that so?” The hero leaned forward and they could see how very quickly, the villain started to look very shy. The hero loved it when the villain let their guard down in front of them. It was very sweet, very rare too. They were so grumpy and mysterious all the time. It was lovely. “I just want a few answers, pet.”

“What do you want to know?” The villain put their hands on the hero’s lower back, but rolled with their eyes at the same time.

“Why am I here?” Their gaze dropped to the villain’s lips.

“Because I kidnapped you.” Still no answers, then.

“Do you want me all to yourself, is that it?” the hero asked. They let their thumb follow the curve of the villain’s bottom lip. God, for how long had they been tiptoeing around each other?

It was probably a year by now.

Their other hand played with the hem of the villain’s shirt and their knuckles brushed against their enemy’s naked abs accidentally.

The villain took in a deep breath.

“I mean, I’m not complaining, you’re so very good to me. But there’s a lot of helpless civilians out there that need my help.”

“Do you think I care about civilians?” The villain asked. They leaned their head back against the armchair.

“No, but I think your greed should be a bit obvious to them. After all, civilians don’t like sharing their heroes with villains,” the hero said. “And you know what happens when the people get upset…”

Admittedly, they were getting greedy themselves. They wanted their nemesis. They really did. Maybe more than getting answers.

They kissed their jaw. Was the villain a good lover? Were they passionate? Or shy?

“Damn you,” the villain whispered.

The hero let their fingers go over the other’s stomach, exploring carefully. Whenever they could feel scar tissue, they took their time to follow it.

“What?” They kissed the villain’s temple next. Then their cheekbone. They exchanged looks, both clearly longing for the enemy.

This was only happening once. The hero couldn’t allow themselves to do this regularly.

“Is it a possessive thing?”

The villain let out a pained sigh. Their fingers dug into the hero’s lower back softly.

“It’s a a-lot-of-people-want-to-kill-you-thing,” they said, defeated almost. They looked away.

“Aww, you care about me.” Their gaze jumped back to the hero. Both of them were aware how much the villain was blushing.

“I don’t. Now, kiss me properly.”

“Say please,” the hero said.

“Kiss me, please.”

“There we go.” The hero leaned in and realised quickly that this was definitely not happening only once.

[uniquethingtastemaker]

This is a snippet from Riddle’s “Dreaming of You” fanfic:

“Ewwwww, no! Really?! Right in front of my salad?!” Ace cries.

Riddle turns to him with a judgemental look.

“That’s not a salad. I’m allowing you to eat my tart!” he declares.

You lean in, soothing him. “It’s ok. Ace is red-green colorblind.”

“I didn’t realize it also came with symptoms of being unable to identify foods. It’s ok. I will accommodate his disability,” your boyfriend states before turning to the freshman. “Ace, you’re eating a tart, not a salad.”

“I…” the card soldier sighs before accepting his fate. “Thank you, Riddle.”

(This fanfic is hilarious. It also is pretty spicy. Look forward to it. Also, there’s a lot of screaming in the second dream. Riddle’s loud. Everything ends in an exclamation point and idk how to feel about it lol. Let me know what u guys think or looking forward too. Again, I love comments so tell me ur thoughts. I tend to respond so it might give u an incentive lol)

[viviarts-c]

Happy Valentine's! Have a College Mystery Trio Valentine's Day special!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Valentine's Day Special

[the-broken-pen]

Can you do a villian with owl characteristics

The hero landed on the rooftop, and then had to stifle an immediate shriek as the villain–well. Not…turned, exactly, from their place sat on the edge of the roof, just…looked backward. With that, unfortunately, all too familiar disconnect between their head and their body. 

“God, I hate it when you do that,” the hero managed, and the villain blinked their slightly too big eyes at them, before grinning. 

“I am aware,” the villain said, and despite how often the villain had done exactly this, turning their head far past the “normal head turn ability”, it still took the hero a second to readjust to the sight. 

“Why on earth do you do villainy when you could make so much money working in the haunted house industry,” the hero said, and the villain squinted at them.

“Because I don’t want to work in the haunted house industry.”

“You could be making a lot of money,” the hero said, and the villain’s mouth twitched.

“What, and you would know? In all your freetime, spent being a clown?”

“I do not spend my freetime being a clown, you little shit–”

“You give distinct clown energy,” the villain observed, and the hero was literally never going to get over this in their entire life–

Footsteps, light an airy, dropped onto the roof behind them, and the hero had to stop themself from pinching the bridge of their nose like an exhausted mother.

“I thought,” the hero grit out, more tired than angry, “I told you to wait over there.”

“Did you?” Their sidekick said, and the hero could hear the grin on their voice even before they appeared in front of them. “Can you cite your sources on that one, chief?”

“Cite my sources–no. No, I am not citing my sources, and I am not doing this right now. Go back over there,” they gestured towards a rather distant rooftop, and their sidekick emitted an impressive pout.

“You do give clown energy,” their sidekick said petulantly, and the hero felt their mouth drop open slightly.

Yeah. They were never going to recover from this one.

“So help me god, if you–”

Their sidekick let out something akin to the unholy baby of a gasp and a squeal, eyes wide as they stared at the villain. “Oh my god that is so cool.”

The villain was making that tiny little smile when the hero looked at them, verging on the edge of soft. The hero was not in the least bit surprised.

“Hello.”

“You have wings,” their sidekick whispered, voice hushed and drowning in awe. They took a single step forward, as if the villain had some kind of magnetic draw to them, pulling the hero’s sidekick in.

“I do,” the villain confirmed. “Do you want to see?”

The hero had never seen their sidekick move that fast in their life. 

“I should have left you home,” the hero sighed, and their sidekick shot them a look that could have drawn blood. The next second, the villain was taking the sidekick’s hand in theirs, guiding it gently over the feathers of their wing. Their sidekick was, appropriately, awed, and the hero was doing their very best to not look too put out by it.

I’m their favorite, the villain mouthed over the sidekick’s head, and the hero had to use all of their very strong and wonderful and saintly will-power to not punt the villain off the side of the building and then ground their sidekick for the next seven years.  

“You are way cooler than them,” the sidekick confided with absolutely zero effort to lower their voice in any shape or form. “Like, way, way cooler. It’s kind of impressive. You’re lapping them with your cool-ness.”

“You are a wretched child, and I disown you,” the hero said, and the sidekick grinned at them.

“No you don’t.”

“I am ordering the papers as soon as we get home.”

“What papers,” their sidekick said. “There were no papers in the first place. You basically kidnapped me, a poor, helpless little street orphan, and shoved me into this ridiculously colored supersuit to do all of your dirty work for you–”

“You are not a street orphan,” the hero said, exasperated, and the villain, goddamn them, was still smiling. “Your mother is a teacher and you live in a three story townhome on the north side. Also, I distinctly remember you picking those colors, and then forcing me to find and dye the fabric for it.”

Their sidekick squinted, somehow mimicking the villain perfectly, before shrugging. “Can’t prove it.”

“I will call your mother right now–”

“Oh, and tell her about the superhero escapades? Yeah, okay, boss, you get right on that.”

“If your mother hasn’t recognized you and your snotty little mouth on the news by now, there’s no helping her.”

“My mouth is not snotty.”

“What? Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m actually unable to hear whining and sass, in case you were wondering.”

Their sidekick let out an outraged little squawk, with a look in their eye that definitely meant they were one second away from tackling the hero, before the villain, still grinning, intervened.

“You know, if you ever get tired of them, I could always use a sidekick.”

Their sidekick whipped around, before going very still. “Really?”

The villain nodded, and the hero raised a hand in an attempt to stop the possible catalyst of the end of the world from occurring. “Okay, there is absolutely no way they can be your sidekick. One, you’re literally evil, and two, they don’t even have wings.”

Their sidekick visibly deflated at the last part, blatantly human shoulders slumping.

“That can be fixed,” the villain said easily, and the hero hauled their sidekick backwards before they could volunteer themself as the next test subject in the villain’s secret and probably insane scientist laboratory. 

“You are not bioengineering and then grafting a set of wings onto their body,” the hero said firmly, arms full of a squirming and outraged sidekick, who let out a whine.

“Oh my god you are no fun. I take it back, I’m going to disown you.”

The villain laughed. 

“You can’t disown me, you are literally a child.”

“Emancipation is a thing,” the villain offered, and the hero shot them a look as their sidekick attempted, and succeeded, to elbow them in the face.

“You are not helping.”

“In what world would you think I was trying to be helpful to you? Just curious,” the villain said, blasely, and their sidekick laughed before kneeing the hero in the vague direction of a vital organ. 

“Ow. Okay, okay, look, I am so proud you’ve been paying attention in training, but can you please stop trying to do permanent damage to me and my organs? They don’t like that very much. Or at all. Fuck–” their sidekick managed another impressively well aimed hit and the hero promptly dropped them like a sack of potatoes onto the rooftop. Their sidekick, stunned, waited a moment, wide eyed as they blinked up at the hero.

The hero maybe, possibly, did not feel bad, and was also maybe, possibly, going to have bruises. 

“Did you just try to gentle parent me?”

“Did the dropping feel gentle?” The villain questioned, and the sidekick looked like they were trying to muster up tears and failing.

“Did you just drop me?”

The hero rubbed a hand over their brow. “Don’t attack my organs and I won’t drop you.”

“You picked me up!”

“And you tried to literally sell yourself to an evil scientist.”

“There was no selling involved,” the villain interjected, remaining undeterred by the hero’s glare. “I do not participate in human trafficking.”

The sidekick made a flailing sort of gesture. “See! No human trafficking. I’ll even sign a waiver!”

“They are a minor,” the hero hissed at the villain, who once more, shrugged. They looked like they were trying very hard to hide a laugh. “They cannot legally sign that. Do not make me suplex you.”

Their sidekick stilled. “Wait, I kind of want to see that. Keep talking.”

“No,” the hero reprimanded, and their sidekick rolled their eyes. “Absolutely not. Who raised you to be so violent?”

“You did,” their sidekick said, and this time, the villain failed to hide their laugh. Their wings ruffled with the motion, and their sidekick’s attention was immediately drawn back. A second later, the pout reappeared, and the hero sighed. 

“Fine,” the hero said, and something akin to manic glee began to shine on their sidekick’s face. “But,” the hero added, and their sidekick groaned, flopping backwards onto the roof. They covered their face with their hands as they groaned. “No experimentation until your eighteenth birthday. You have to ask your mother first. And no time traveling to your eighteenth birthday, no age potions, no begging your speedster friends to run you there, no time vortexes, no trying to gaslight me into thinking you’re eighteen, and absolutely no attempting to get your age changed in the eyes of the government.”

The villain’s brow raised perpetually higher, while the sidekicked simply groaned again. “You never let me have any fun, you’re the worst, the absolute worst, nobody has ever suffered as much as I am right now–”

“I think you covered all of the bases,” the villain said, looking faintly impressed. 

“This is not the first time something like this has happened,” the hero said dryly. “Please do not give my sidekick wings.”

The villain eyed the hero’s sidekick, who was still moping rather dramatically on the ground. “I dunno. I’m kind of wondering what they’ll come up with to make it happen before their eighteenth birthday. And if they do manage it I kind of feel like that means they earned it.”

“Villain,” the hero hissed, and the villain simply laughed, popping their legs back over the edge of the roof and brushing off their legs as they stood up. 

“Oh, relax,” they murmured when they got close enough. “I would never. But you have to encourage children’s dreams, even if you don’t think they’ll happen. Or, at least, you won’t let them happen. It’s good for their development.”

“That,” the hero said pointedly, towards where their sidekick was throwing a tiny tantrum on the ground still. “Is not a child. That is a moody teenager who needs to work off some issues in their school drama program. Do not encourage them.”

The villain paused for a moment, considering. “Nah. I’m going to encourage them.”

The hero groaned, shifting to drop their head onto the villain’s shoulder. The villain’s wing came around to give them a gentle pat on the shoulder. “There there. Parenthood is hard.”

“I am not a parent.”

“Your creature has imprinted on you like a baby duck. Best of luck with that.”

“I am not a creature,” their sidekick protested from the ground. “I am a critter or eldritch horror at best.”

“Exactly what a creature would say,” the hero sighed, head still slumped onto the villain’s shoulder, and their sidekick let out a wordless shriek of rage from the ground. 

The hero allowed themself one more moment spent half wrapped in the villain’s wing before pushing themself off. They grabbed the center of their sidekick’s super suit, hoisting them onto their feet. “Alright, up you get. I’m calling it for tonight.”

Their sidekick kicked them in the shin. The hero simply looked at them. “Spoilsport.”

“You have a math test tomorrow. If you fail that because you didn’t sleep well your mother will literally skin me alive. Go on. Tell me she wouldn’t.”

The sidekick sighed. “Okay she totally would but also–”

“Nope. That was a complete sentence.”

Their sidekick was not bothered. “--Teenagers don’t even sleep anyways, so really, you’re fighting for nothing.”

“You took a four hour nap on my balcony yesterday,” the hero said, and their sidekick glared at them.

“Napping is not sleeping. It’s an entirely different thing. Like, it’s a vacation. Sleep is if I moved there, to another state or whatever. Dimension, Ohio, doesn’t matter. A nap is like a quick little visit and a pop back.”

The hero stared. “You are speaking a language I don’t understand.”

The villain barked a laugh. The hero watched their sidekick preen slightly, and vowed to murder the villain at the first opportune moment.

“That is absolutely enough out of you,” the hero said, then pointed a finger at their sidekick before they could say exactly what the hero knew they were about to. “Do not start reciting the First Amendment to me, you little heathen, do you know how many laws you break on the daily?”

“Vigilantism is illegal,” their sidekick said. The hero’s face must have done something truly horrific and parental in nature, because their sidekick winced, and, wisely, shut up. 

“I pinkie promise to do no more crime tonight,” the villain said helpfully, and the hero didn’t bother to turn around. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Maybe, but did it make you feel better?”

The hero hauled their sidekick up onto their shoulder, ignoring the attempted fatal moves their sidekick immediately began cycling through.

“Actually, kind of. So. Thank you for that. Now, I’m going to go drop this thing off at home–”

“I have a name!”

“And possibly apologize to their mother,” the hero finished. The villain simply nodded, like that was the perfectly natural thing to do. 

The villain watched the hero’s sidekick for a moment, before allowing a tiny smirk to play at the corners of their mouth. They’re like a baby you, the villain mouthed once more. 

“Never say that to me again,” the hero warned, but secretly, it made them feel a tiny bit warm. Yes, this is my heathen child creature, and I love them very dearly and want to drop them off a building.

Their sidekick attempted to rear their head around to see the villain, and failed spectacularly. “Wait, what did they say? Hero. What did they say, I want to know, hero, hero,” the sidekick began, and the villain watched, eyes luminous in the black, as the hero slid back into the darkness of the night, their sidekick’s voice fading all the while.

“Hero!,” the sidekick shrieked again. And the villain grinned.

[concretejunglefm]

Hi! Do you write dad!noah? If so, could I request a oneshot of noah with his son in the studio or at one of his shows please :)

Not a full one-shot, but here’s a little blurb for a fic I’ve been working on <3

“I thought you said you weren’t busy today?” you ask Noah, feeling the fingers of your four-year-old slipping from your sweaty palm. “Levi, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already making a beeline for Davis—his favourite uncle—completely bypassing the rest of the guys standing around the studio, resulting in a chorus of offended sounds and playful remarks.

“I’m not,” Noah shrugs, but you just give him a look that says ‘yeah, right’, and he chuckles. “I’ve got a couple of things to finish up here for the next record, and I thought maybe Levi could see what his daddy gets up to.” Noah pauses, and you freeze. “…If that’s okay with you.”

You know he’s not just talking about having Levi here in the studio. He’s talking about the word daddy. It’s still early days, and you haven’t fully decided how you feel about Noah referring to himself that way—especially when you’ve raised Levi single handedly until now. Granted, it wasn’t Noah’s fault, he didn’t know Levi existed, but you’ve been clinging to the idea that you didn’t want to confuse Levi—not while he’s still so young.

Though, truthfully, maybe you didn’t want to confuse yourself.

You weren’t a family. Noah was Levi’s father, and that was it. And yet, the way he included you in every suggestion, every plan involving Levi—it made it harder to believe that was all he wanted. It felt like he was pushing for something more. Something you were afraid he didn’t really mean.

“Yeah…” You let out a breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding and slowly nod. “Okay then.” You’re not sure what you’re agreeing to, but the tightness in your chest and twist in your stomach makes you wonder if it’s a bad idea. Watching Noah in dad mode makes the reality of everything hit harder—especially now.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest at the sound of a high-pitched squeal, and then you see Noah lift your son—his son—into the air, slinging him over his shoulder before heading into the recording area. The door shuts behind them, muting Levi’s giggles, but through the glass, you can still see him laughing, squirming on Noah’s broad shoulder as his hands tickle his sides. He’s a miniature version of him—even down to the long limbs and dark hair flopping over his soft brown eyes. It’s like looking at a masterpiece of artwork, then at the blank canvas you have both created. A little boy with all the potential in the world.

“He really cares about him, you know.” Davis’ voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You shake your head slightly as his shoulder bumps gently against yours. “I know…” You’re not mad at him anymore. Not really. If it hadn’t been for Davis, Noah wouldn’t have known about Levi. You wouldn’t be witnessing this moment—or any of the others you’ve seen since—Noah desperately trying to bond, to make up for the four years he missed.

On the other side of the glass, Noah sets Levi down, steadying him with both hands on his small shoulders. They face Folio, who’s still seated at the drums.

“Do you wanna have a go, little man?”

“Can I?” Levi’s face lights up, and it’s enough to make Noah’s chest swell with warmth. He quickly moves to help him up onto Folio’s lap, both men guiding his hands as they wrap around the drumsticks and begin to show him how to play.

From your spot behind the glass, you watch with a twinge of guilt pulling at your chest. You kept Noah in the dark for so long. There were reasons then, reasons that made sense at the time, but watching him now, with Levi, makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake.

If maybe, just maybe, you’d been wrong for not telling him.

[writtenbyan-aries]

Ok so what if y/n just got her period and has been in a bad mood all day cause Sam's not home or something like that and he gets home and they cuddle and watch a movie or something. I don't but love you 💜🩷

Warnings: swearing, talk of period, bad mood, mostly fluff

Word Count: 1004 | Unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You rolled over, reaching out for Sam, but you don’t feel him laying next to you.

You lift your head, letting out a sigh as you remembered today was the day he wasn’t going to be home until later on tonight.

You sat up, freezing as you felt that irritating feeling creep through your body. You made your way to the bathroom and lo and behold, it was day one of shark week.

“That’s just fucking great.” You mumbled to yourself, “Fucking..” you reach forward, grabbing a pad, (or a tampon, whatever suits you best!), “Great.”

You stand up, moving to wash your hands before looking at yourself in the mirror. You brush your finger over a new blemish and let out a whiney groan, “whyyy.”

You make your way back to bed, climbing under the covers and reaching to grab your phone. You look at the text from Sam, Have a good day, babe. I’ll see you later, I love you!

You smile slightly, typing back, Good morning. I hope you have a good day. I love you!

You shifted around and that’s when the cramps kicked in. You let out a groan as your legs slide up, curling into a ball as you squeeze your eyes shut, “God, I haaate being a girl.”

After spending the last hour or so scrolling through TikTok and other apps, you found yourself in the kitchen, looking through the cupboards for something to eat.

Nothing sounded good. Nothing looked good.

You grabbed your phone, sitting at the island as you looked for something to have delivered. After picking a few things, you placed your order and made your way into the living room.

Sam texts you, Did you eat breakfast?

You type back, I have stuff being delivered here soon. I woke up to my period and nothing here looked good, so yes, I’ll eat in a little bit.

You set your phone down, scrolling through options of stuff to watch on the tv.

You settled for a movie you’ve seen a few times, mainly because you know you’ll be on your phone anyway.

You couldn’t get comfortable, you kept moving around trying to find the right spot but couldn’t - and it was pissing you off.

“God.. dammit.” You threw the pillow, huffing as you rested your hand on your forehead.

You wanted Sam, and the fact that he couldn’t come home right now was pissing you off even more.

Speaking of, your phone rings and you smile as you see Sam’s face on the screen, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Sam’s voice rings on the other end, “How are you feeling? Sorry I just got a change to check my phone again.”

“Miserable.” You pull your phone away, seeing the notification that your food has been delivered, “But my food is here, so that’s a plus.”

“What did you get good?”

You tell him what you ordered as you walk over to the door to retrieve it, “But yeah, how’s your day going?”

“It’s.. going, I guess.” He laughs slightly, “We just got done with the shoot for the new merch, next we’re heading to meet with the owner of that school.”

“Sounds fun.” You laugh slightly as you put him on speaker so you can eat, “I hope it goes good. That would be really cool if you could buy it.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for.” Sam says, and you can hear Colby in the background, “Hi y/n.”

“Hi, Colby.”

“Alright, babe. We gotta get going. I’ll text you, okay?” Sam states and you nod to yourself, “I’ll be here.” You laugh slightly, “I love you.”

“I love you, get some rest okay. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

Sam hangs up and you lean back on the couch, pouting as you know he won’t be home for another few hours.

After eating, you lay back down on the couch and you end up falling asleep while watching tv, only to be woken up a little bit later by the door opening.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes and you smile as you see Sam, “Hey. What are you doing home?”

He walks over to you, sitting down next to you, “We got out early.”

You smile and tilt your head, “You rescheduled.. didn’t you?”

He nods, “Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t have you here alone being miserable, but..” he leans back and pulls you into him, “The owner of the school had something come up, so it worked out.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses your head, “You feel any better?”

You nod, letting out a content sigh, “Oh yeah. Most of my mood was you not being here.”

He chuckles and rubs your back, “Yeah, I thought so.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Do you need anything?”

“Nothing but cuddles please.”

“That I can do.” He lays down, pulling you with him and you lay on his body. He pulls a blanket down from the back of the couch and does his best to cover you both up with it.

“Haven’t you watched this movie like a million times?” Sam laughs and you laugh with him, “Maybe, but it was more for background noise.”

“I see, do you want to watch something else, something new?” He reaches forward and grabs the remote and you shrug, “We can, but you can pick.”

“Okay.”

His fingers gently scratch up and down your back as he clicks through, stopping when he finds something he likes, “How’s this?”

“Works for me.” You smile and cuddle up into him more as he sets the remote down, “I’m glad you came home early.”

“Yeah.” He holds you tighter, “Me too.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! I love you all so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[httpiastri]

a quick snippet/teaser for the jeddah chapter!! <3 rlly wanted to write something quick abt him yesterday so i wrote this on the bus. hope you all have a lovely day and that you'll be sending all of your love to this cutie boy during the race 😚

(i needed someone to guide the reader for a sec so i used chris, i have no idea why. if don't know him then don't worry, he's not important for the story lol...)

series masterlist

you've never ever been to the ferrari paddock before, so as you stand in the middle of it, you have no idea where to go or what to do; this is completely new territory. thankfully, you got a vip-pass from ollie before he ran off for his pre-qualifying duties, so at least you have the privilege of looking like a fool inside of the paddock instead of right outside the doors.

a fool dressed in a red bull cap, even. great.

"you don't look like you belong here, miss," a voice rumbles from behind you. your heart stops in your chest, and you're ready to improvise an excuse or find an escape route when you turn around – but luckily, you're met with chris, ollie's manager, standing there.

"thank god you're here," you say, letting out a sigh of relief. "do you happen to know where ollie is?"

he nods, smiling. "he's borrowing carlos's room. it's right down the hall and to the left."

you quickly thank him, turning again and making your way down said hallway. the room is easy to find, the two big, red fives on the door sticking out among the white walls. you're glad to find it unlocked, but you still knock a few times before sticking your head inside.

"sweetheart? can i come in?"

ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. his eyes are stuck on the floor, but you take his silence as a yes.

"i got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "how are you doing?"

when he still doesn't answer, your heat rate picks up. is something really wrong?

you make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before.

not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year. once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"ollie, talk to me," you plead, biting back the pout that starts to form on your lips. it's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. not now, not when he needs you this much.

"i'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "i'm so nervous, i don't know what to do."

it's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. ollie, your usually so calm and collected boyfriend, is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. "i get that. one hundred percent. but," your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "this is your dream. it's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance."

ollie sighs, but nods. you're getting to him.

"and it's not just any car, it's a ferrari. do you realize how cool that is? do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" you smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous. "you would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"but what if i ruin it?" his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "what if i go out there and i'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've done by even putting me in the academy? what if-"

"it won't happen." his eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "you're too good to do that. you'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. it's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "i'll try my best to make you proud."

you pout. "i'll be proud even if you end up with a slower lap than your pole lap from yesterday."

a laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. his heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. but his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter.

he presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms squeezing you tight. "go out there and show them, baby," you tell him.

and so he does.

[invalidstories]

Nb Hero x villain where the villain accidentally drinks a love potion for whatever reason which enchances their vision but only to hero (kinda like damian to anya in spyxfamily) and villain tries to hide it from hero but fails badly😭

Potion Problems

This was very fun to write lol! Hope this is what you had in mind.

Warnings: Potions

The villain had one job; steal the enchanted amulet, knock out the hero, and escape. Simple. Clean. Professional.

Instead, they were currently hiding behind a marble pillar, palms sweaty, heart pounding like a war drum, because oh no, oh no, oh no

The hero looked good.

Not just their usual brand of infuriatingly attractive. No, this was something far worse. The way their gloves flexed when they cracked their knuckles, the way their stupidly perfect hair caught the light, that smug smirk that should have been grating but now sent the villain’s stomach into frantic somersaults—it was unbearable.

"You’re really bad at hiding," the hero called out, voice laced with amusement.

The villain pressed their forehead against the cool marble. "Shut up, I’m strategizing."

"From behind a pillar?"

"Yes! Pillars are—very strategic—oh hell—" The villain peeked out and immediately regretted it, because the hero had taken a step closer, and wow, their eyes were so blue, and—

ABORT. ABORT.

They lunged sideways, only to tangle themselves in their own cape and face-plant directly into a potted fern.

The hero’s laughter was bright and far too delighted. "Okay, what’s wrong with you today?"

"Nothing!" The villain’s voice was muffled by leaves. "I’m fine!"

Strong hands gripped their shoulders, hauling them upright. The villain refused to meet the hero’s gaze, but they could feel the way those eyes studied them, could practically hear the smirk in their voice.

"You’re bright red."

"Allergies."

"To me?"

The villain’s traitorous mouth opened, then closed. "...Maybe."

A beat of silence. Then, impossibly soft, the hero murmured, "...Huh. Cute."

The villain’s brain short-circuited.

"This is the worst," they groaned, covering their burning face with their hands.

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Taglist (click + comment to be added): @neon-kazoo - @sausages-things - @trash-queen-af - @person1234hi - @sublimepainterwitch - @Mailo_Blue

[getonite]

PLAYING : HOTLINE ! — DAZAI TUNES IN!

𝗧hinking about Dazai, your childhood friend and the one who shows his vulnerability only to you. Years after you've gone and left the Port Mafia and your terrible past behind, he knocks on your door. He looks downright terrible. His bloodied hands are trembling as he grips onto the fabric of Odasaku's coat, he's trembling, and on the verge of tears.

"Dazai, how'd you—" he practically leaps, his bandaged arms wrap around your neck, squeezing harshly, though you wonder how he found you... Ango.

There's not a word spoken between you two, but you know exactly what he needs. You pull him inside, carefully closing the door. "How about we clean you up first, okay?" You whisper. He stinks. His eyelids are puffy and there's red underlining his eyelashes. His hair is due for a wash with split ends, and he's pale. You guess he hasn't taken too much care of himself since you left. He silently nods, leaning his full bodyweight into you.

You bring him to your bathroom, carefully peeling the layers of clothing from him. The first to come off is the black coat he's regularly worn since he joined the Port Mafia.

His knees are to his chest as he speaks for the first time. "Mori-san's coat, burn it. I don't need it," he whispers in a raspy voice as if he's been screaming. You hum in acknowledgement as you set the dirty thing on the bathroom tile. Your hands carefully help him undress before starting to undo his bandages. "Years later and you still can't change your bandages like I told you to," he hears you whisper with a small smile. The bloodied and worn bandages fall to the floor as he hears the sound of streaming water come from the bathtub inches from him.

Once he's in the bath, you carefully rinse his body with warm water, lathering his new and old scars with soap carefully. There's a hint of guilt in your heart as you hear him wince, though this is probably for the best.

The pads of your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair, just like you did when the two of you were kids. You carefully trim his wet hair and brush it before getting him out of the tub, helping him dry off. You were likely the only person he could truly trust to see him so...bare and vulnerable. You couldn't exactly tell if the silence was tense or comforting, regardless you continued with is predictable mute moment. He always got like that when there was something wrong, you sigh.

"How about, I get you something to eat? I made some bento boxes, you can eat one and then brush your teeth, is that okay?" You speak softly and re-bandage his tender skin.

You smile softly at him when be finally nods. "Okay," you whisper and attempt to finish quickly before his mind changes.

As his hair dries it becomes its usual fluffy self, you'd assume hair matches personality; however, Dazai's eyes were close to dead. He only seemed to relax, feel different, when you touched him so gently. You quickly clean up and head to make him food. "You don't have to eat all of it y'know...just some, okay?" You whisper, setting the box in front of him.

He can tell your eyes are studying him as he eats, wondering what your Dazai from years ago has turned into. You look at him proudly when he finishes half of it before pushing it away. "Thank you," you whisper.

Handing him a toothbrush, you let him brush his teeth and fix the mess that is your bedroom, knowing he'll ask to sleep. And surely, 5 minutes later he stumbles to your doorway. "Can I...Can I stay?" You look him up and down, smiling softly. Compared to the terrible look he had when he first appeared at your door, he looks better. No longer like a man seconds from being a corpse.

"'Course," You smile, pulling back the covers, "C'mere."

He walks to the bed, crawling onto the soft sheets carefully. His brown eyes look at you expectingly, watching you get under the covers with him. He moves his body next to yours, putting his face into your neck without a word. "Ready to talk?" You whisper. His hoarse voice whispers a 'No.'

The calming effect your fingers have as they glide along him and his hair makes him feel like he's home. "Okay, just sleep. I'll be right here, I'm not leaving."

Dazai again, speaks no words, but his legs entertangle with yours. He remembers just why he came here. He missed you. Even if Odasaku is gone, he has you to make sure he doesn't go over the deep end. He'll save people, he'll grant Odasaku's last wish. But first, he wants to rest. Right next to his home.

"I promise, sleep." The man listens, squeezing onto you as if to test that this is real before drifting off.

For the first time in days...he's at peace.

A/N: dazai srsly needs a hug, 'n ill b the one 2 give it 2 him if no one else will! we need more fluffy fics of taking care of dazai, rather than dazai taking care of us. nyway, if u haven't signed up 4 the new tag list u totally should! there's new options n better format.

SUBSCRIBERS : @avatsu @sofliesy @tamreadfanfiction

[fumiscripts]

✦ I’M SO HUNGRY I COULD EAT...

“I’m so hungry I could eat Lyon.”

Eli halted entertaining Yenna, taking a moment in stunned silence, before snapping his head towards you so fast you feared that he might've hurt his neck. “...what?” he voiced out, just in case he didn't hear that right. He must've misheard that.

“I’m so hungry I could eat Lyon,” you repeat, expertly hiding the smile of mischief that threatened to appear on your face.

He stared at you, mouth slightly agape, running a hand down his face, before hiding it on Yenna's hair. “Where did you get the name of my old cat?” he grumbled, voice muffled. The toddler babbled, seemingly entertained. She was smiling while making grabby hands at you from Eli’s lap.

You let out a small laugh, watching his reaction. “Sally told me,” and she did, in your little conversation while running grocery trips for Hostel. “She even told me how quiet and edgy you were back–”

“Stop. That's enough embarrassment for the day. I get it,” Eli cut you off, looking up from behind Yenna. He would never use her as a shield, but in this circumstance, he's using his child as a barrier between your gaze and his flustered face. “Stop it.”

Unfortunately for him, you found it cute. “I can't. It seems so unfitting to see you act as an edgelord, but it still suits you. I can see you as some sort of hissy, soggy cat. She said you were quite the troublemaker. Like. My sweet, sweet Eli was an angsty troublemaker,” you were just teasing the living daylights out of him now.

He frowned, brows furrowed and clearly displeased. “This is amusing you,” he remarked, a low murmur. It was a statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” you didn't even deny it. You loved messing with him.

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