#let these boys be soft!

[agentsinopia]

yan coworker pt. 3 ♡

yandere coworker who finds himself drawn to stalking you after work, just out of pure habit

yandere coworker who makes an embarrassment out of himself when he trips while following you, alerting you of his presence

yandere coworker who has no problem coming up with a lie, explaining that he was on the way to eat at the restaurant conveniently behind you

yandere coworker who insists you join him in his meal- he’ll pay, no worries!

yan coworker who when you finally agree (isn’t his darling just so sweet?) ushers you inside of the restaurant, finding a secluded booth for the two of you to eat at

yan coworker who carefully note your tastes and preferences in food, mentally making notes of what meals could best win your heart

yan coworker who pulls out all the cards- making you laugh at his quips, and telling stories that were bound to make you fall for him

yan coworker who watches intently as you eat, stunned again at your perfection, wishing with every bite it was him feeding you and not yourself

yan coworker who has to dig his fingernails into his palms to calm himself down when you ask for some of his drink- the indirect kiss through the straw left his heart beating faster than it had ever his whole life

yan coworker who at the end of the meal, sneaks your used napkins and precious straw into his briefcase to set on his shrine later

yan coworker who leaves a generous tip, hoping you would see how reliable he was if you only let him take care of you

yan coworker who insists he walks you home after dinner, and though you politely refuse he reminds you of the dangers- what if some creep or stalker caught you alone?

yandere coworker who begrudgingly leaves you home, worried he’d pushed himself onto you too much and you’d get the wrong idea- the time isn’t right quite yet

yandere coworker who instead of going straight home circles back to the restaurant, waiting outside for the man he caught ogling at you earlier to finish his meal

yandere coworker who has no concerns how dirty his work clothes get- a little blood and dirt could be washed away, this jerk, however, needed to be taken care of

yandere coworker who can’t help but hum a happy tune on his way back home- who knew today would be so eventful? with his briefcase by his side, his knuckles sporting new bruises, and your smile fresh on his mind, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat accomplished

all works belong to and written by @agentsinopia

pt. 4 , Q&A Event

[ftm-dick-grayson]

[ID: the "you can excuse racism?" meme format. The first woman is labeled "Duke" and the words have been edited to say "I can excuse eight heads in a duffel bag but I draw the line at littering." The second woman is labeled "Nightwing" and the words have been edited to say "you can excuse eight heads in a duffel bag??" End ID]

[sgt-tombstone]

When Johnny asked Simon to come home with him on leave, he had never expected… this.

Johnny’s flat in Glasgow was a tiny thing, barely large enough to fit one, much less two massive soldiers. They made it work well enough, as long as neither of them minded being constantly wrapped up in each other, always within reach, and neither of them did. Their last mission had gone to hell in a heartbeat, and the 141 were lucky to be alive; Price had sent them all home on mandated medical leave, and Simon and Johnny were taking full advantage of the time off base to reacquaint themselves with each other being present and tangible and alive.

That didn’t change the fact, though, that his flat was only slightly larger than a postage stamp, which was fine for a few days, but he had sensed Simon getting antsy, feeling caged in, and had suggested visiting his parents for a couple of days, if only to get out of the house. It wouldn’t be any less oppressive—the MacTavish family was massive and overbearing on the best of days—but it would offer some reprieve from the near-constant contact and the stifling city.

Which was how Johnny found himself staring down at his lieutenant, his partner, curled up on his back on his parents’ couch, fast asleep, a green dinosaur stuffed animal clutched against his chest.

It didn’t look particularly comfortable; Simon was too tall, his legs too long, to be able to stretch out completely, so his knees were hiked up, his socked feet flat against the cushioned armrest. His neck was at an odd angle, resulting in his chin nearly touching his own shoulder, his unmasked cheek squished slightly where it was pressed against the leather. And the stuffed animal…

Johnny had bought it as a gift for one of his nephews, a toddling bairn who had struggled with nightmares, and the shopkeep who sold it to him had assured him that the little beads in the dinosaur’s tummy would provide enough weight to be a comfort without being dangerous. Evidently, his nephew had taken one look at Simon Riley and decided that the scarred soldier needed it more than he did.

Both of Simon’s arms were wrapped around the soft toy, squishing it against his chest, rising and falling with every slow, deep breath. He looked at peace in a way that Johnny hadn’t seen him look in a long time. They had spent the day surrounded by fussing family members and babbling children, their attentions split between warm homemade meals and whatever trinkets had caught the toddlers’ interest. Johnny would’ve felt bad; he was long used to his family’s antics, had grown up surrounded by siblings and cousins and extended relatives. But Simon had taken to it like a duck to water, effortlessly shifting focus from one person to another, treating each with equal sincerity and devotion, the same way he did in the field. It had been a delight to watch, especially when his mam and sisters had taken advantage of Simon’s distraction to shoot Johnny knowing glances.

“Gonna stand there all night, sergeant?”

Johnny startled, not enough to move, but enough to send his heart rate skyrocketing. He recovered quickly though, too well trained to do anything else. Simon hadn’t moved, hadn’t even opened his eyes, and it would’ve unnerved him if he hadn’t spent the last two years cementing himself as a permanent fixture in Simon’s life and, therefore, becoming incredibly used to his partner’s uncanny sense of perception. Even, apparently, while asleep.

“Just wonderin’ if Gaz’d ever believe me if I told him, sir.”

“Take a picture,” Simon grumbled, his voice deep with sleep. “It’ll last longer.”

Johnny snorted a quiet laugh, already imagining the look on his fellow sergeant’s face. He didn’t pull his phone out, though, just like Simon knew he wouldn’t. These moments were for the two of them alone, raw and bare and soft.

“Let’s go to bed, love,” he whispered, reaching out to run his hand through Simon’s hair. It was tangled from the grasping of tiny, fisted fingers throughout the day (Johnny’s nephews had never seen blond hair before and, as such, had been absolutely enraptured by Simon’s head of golden hair), and he didn’t mention the way Simon pushed into his hand, seeking touch and warmth like a cat. He also didn’t mention the way Simon continued to hug the stuffed animal to his chest as he unfurled his long legs, stretching slightly, his knees popping, before drawing himself up to his usual towering height. His eyes were half-lidded with sleep, soft in a way he rarely allowed himself to be, the green dinosaur tucked safely in his arms as he followed Johnny upstairs.

In a week, they will be back on base, back to their tactical gear and their sidearms and their razor-sharp focus. They will be shipped out to some foreign soil, either sweltering heat or numbing cold, either dry deserts or soaking rainforests, and blood will be spilled, probably their own, definitely their enemy’s. They will once again be hardened soldiers, products of war, and there will be no room for such softness. Which was why Johnny reveled in the way Simon curled around him now, in a bed two sizes too small for two muscular men, a warm blanket blocking out the worst of the Scottish chill, a green weighted dinosaur stuffed animal clutched in two massive arms against an equally massive chest.

He tucked his nose against the nape of his partner’s neck, one arm thrown over Simon’s hip, and drifted off to the quiet sound of breathing, of comfort, of peace.

[ohno-the-sun]

Sol

[toshidou]

don't mind me, i'll just be sat here crying into my hands about girl dad!simon "ghost" riley who would do absolutely anything for his daughters.

girl dad!simon who watches with a fond smile as his children fail to mask their giggles from underneath the sofa, their little legs sticking out very obviously from their "hiding place" but acting as though they're nowhere to be found.

girl dad!simon who lets them apply the black smudging around his eyes, praising them with how gentle they're being, and only huffing out a laugh when he feels his youngest smear charcoal fingerprints down his cheeks.

girl dad!simon who always has time to play with his girls, going along with whatever game their imaginative minds conjure with not a single complaint. over the years, you've walking in on simon as a horse, a robot, a fairy godmother (you will never get the imagine of simon with one of your elasticated waist dresses on out of your head, the material fighting for its life to stay in one piece as simon merely stares at you, silently pleading you to not take any photos), there is nothing he won't do to make them happy.

girl dad!simon who never once hesitates to scoop them into his arms at the first sign of tears, battled scared and inked hands holding his daughter so carefully, though she was made of porcelain, rough fingers gently swiping across ruddy cheeks, "you're okay, sweetpea, it's just a little scrape, yeah? my brave girl can handle a tiny scratch like that no problem, ain't that right?"

girl dad!simon who has a photo of you and your daughters tucked safely in his pocket at all times, all his favourite people on one small piece of paper he keeps safe over his heart whenever he has to leave, making sure it never leaves his mind that 'this is who he's fighting for, this is who he's working so hard to get back to'

girl dad!simon who try as he might, always tears up when he finally arrives back, and hears his little worlds sprinting at him as fast as their stubby legs can carry them, screeching cries of "daddy, daddy, daddy's home!" echoing through the walls of his home, arms wide as he crouches on the floor and feels their small but mighty weight crash into him, finally whole, finally complete, watery eyes meeting yours where you lean against the wall, similarly emotional.

"welcome home, si."

finally, home.

[blushes-and-gropes]

Thinking about making a subby boy finish without ever taking his clothing off.

He comes home from work, still in his dress clothing, and as soon as he walks through the door I pounce on him. I rub my hands up and down his torso teasing his waist and chest through his thin white collared shirt. Grabbing his tie with one hand I yank him down to kiss as my other hand runs through his hair lightly pulling it to draw out a moan.

I place one of my thighs in between his legs, already feeling how hard he is for me. Breaking out of the kiss I whisper in his ear how he's going to cum for me without me even touching his cock. How I know he wants to feel inside of me but instead he's going to finish in his suit trousers. Too turned on to think.

He starts to moan and whimper as I tease him for being such a needy boy who can't even hold it together long enough to fuck me properly. How easy he is to play with. His face turns pink with embarrassment as his breath hitches. He finishes in his trousers without so much as a touch below the waist. After he is done, I kiss his cheek and tell him to get cleaned up. We are going out for dinner after all. My treat.

[wellthebardsdead]

Astarion: Okay- I think, I think I have this wildshape thing figured out. *casts it expecting to become something ferocious and majestic, only to end up as a tiny bat sprawled out on the ground* … “Ah-squeak!”

Halsin: *gently picks him up* well, at least you can hide from the sun easier. You can hang in my cape.

Astarion: *frustrated angry squeaking!*

[greyskyflowers]

Niko would absolutely make a weekly blanket fort sleepover and insisted that everyone join her. Extravagant forts with little fairy lights strung up with the sheets, a mattress or two shoved together, huge pillows and blankets to curl up in, snacks and the TV playing Scooby-Doo and her favorite anime

Jenny refuses to come but Niko always makes sure to let her know when they start and on what episode. She knows Jenny watches it by herself, following along so she can be a part of it without being there in person and wildly out of her comfort zone. She told Niko that, and then followed it with smirk and a 'no one will believe you.' And she was tight because they don't.

After the first few times, they even got Edwin to start wearing more comfortable clothing.

He had refused for awhile, back straight and unwilling to discuss it. Charles had stepped in, waving the girls off and saying he'd take care of it.

Neither he or Charles said anything specifically about Hell but there's a certain look in their eyes whenever something comes up in relation to it.

Eventually Edwin does start to change onto more comfy clothes. Always something dark, never light colors.

And it's definitely a Hell thing with the way Charles is barely a half step behind him when he looks like this, extra vulnerable without his usual clothing, and how he occasionally look at Charles like he's just making sure he's still there.

It's easy to sink into quiet. It feels safe, far way. They're a little space all their own here.

Crystal and Charles take the outer edges, half because Niko and Edwin like to be next to each other and half something unspoken passing between them, a fierce protective feeling as they watch Niko and Edwin happily tilt their heads at the show, the soft lights casting their skin in flickering colors, and honestly just looking painfully... beautiful.

Kingham and Litty's muffled, vulgar critiques of the shows are hardly audible but occasionally clear enough that it has them smothering a laugh.

Ghosts don't really need to sleep. Edwin has reminded them of this numerous times and it seems pretty accurate but there are always exceptions.

No one has said anything out loud yet but Edwin seems to need more rest after his second trip to hell and everything with Esther.

Charles can stay up all night if he doesn't get distracted by Edwin. He'll lay down next to him and watch the lights over his skin, the shadows on his face, sometimes stroking his face or running his hand through his hair.

It's disgustingly cute and no matter how many times it happens, Niko always starts vibrating from happiness when she notices.

Charles loves these nights. All of his favorite people safe, happy and in one place. He gets affection from everyone and it soothes the caretaker in him.

Crystal drinks enough coffee that her sleep cycle isn't very regular so it usually ends up just her and Charles awake in the very early hours of the morning.

She doesn't mind. Niko is a warm weight against her hip and her little snores make Crystal smile. Sometimes she wakes Niko up when she goes to lay down and there's some angry grumbling before the little snores start again.

Sometimes, one of them will have a nightmare. It could be any of them really, they've all got enough issues. A lot of the times it's Niko or Edwin though, especially since Crystal and Charles don't usually really fall asleep.

Niko just opens her eyes and sits up, a hand often at her chest while she looks over each of them. Her dreams are more sad than they are violent.

Edwin will wake up with a sharp inhale and hard twist of his body before he goes completely quiet and still. Charles handles those too.

There's the sounds of the blankets moving as they readjust, the low sound of Charles talking for a little bit before things get quiet again. They always end up even more tangled up together than they were previously.

🌙🪐🌙🪐🌙🪐🌙🪐

[averyshittyseal]

(Mild Nudity! - Just Cuddle and Tenderness)

A Small Continuation for this, I really hope Harry will learn from his past errors and be able to love again (without all the Idolatrous shit).

[spheresr4cubes]

I've been getting into the Linked Universe again...

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[captainobis-stressball]

Sister, you want SANJI—the same Sanji who turns into a wet noodle at the sight of a pretty girl—to spank you?? LMAOOOOO

[chromaherder]

Byler week day 4: Summer Love During which Mike vows to never do sports again after swallowing a good handful of salt water.

[soullessseraphim]

For our souls

[pnfc]

they do such a nice job with perry's emoting in these, he gets to express so much

[flowercrowngods]

a tiny thing for @eddiemonth day 06: crush & sincere

“I will crush you beneath my heel like vermin.”

Like thunder, the evil wizard’s voice rolls over the battlefield, leaving fear in the heart of everyone who’s alive enough to hear it and rattling the bones of those who aren’t.

Men and women alike, soldiers and knights and able bodied young men, watch with bated breath as Sir Steven, the bravest of them all, rises to his feet again beside the black-clad wizard, his grip on his trusty sword never wavering as he wipes blood and sweat from his face.

There he stands, heroic as ever, meeting the evil wizard’s eyes with a heated glare of his own.

“Try,” he says, standing his ground as his voice, too, is carried over the battlefield. Carried, indeed, for the wind blows in his favour, the sun shines only for him, and the ground beneath his feet holds him up like a trusted friend, a most beloved brother.

Sir Steven reaches towards his neck, feeling the band of leather against overheated skin, a charm resting just above his heart — right where it belongs.

The wizard doesn’t have what he has.

***

A soft chuckle abruptly changes the scenery and rips Eddie into a different world once more; sun glazed battlefields replaced with the darkness of his room, hard soil replaced with the softness of his bed, and a knight turns into a beautiful boy wearing his favourite shirt.

“A magic used guitar pick necklace? Is that what the evil wizard king doesn’t have?”

Steve’s eyes are closed but the smile on his lips shines bright, and Eddie can’t even be mad about the interruption. He reaches out a hand and trails his fingers through Steve’s hair, gently combing back the locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. The smile dims a little, turning into something more genuine.

“I can’t believe you interrupted me at the best part there, Stevie. I was going to make a heroic entrance as a dragon shifter, called to the knight simply by touching the charm.” He keeps up his slow and gentle caresses, his hands trialing down to Steve’s cheeks and neck, where Eddie’s necklace clings to overheated skin indeed. “It means a lot, you know, a charm like that.”

Steve hums, moving closer to Eddie, seeking his warmth and his touch alike, and Eddie can’t possibly refuse him.

“It could save the world, you mean?”

“Hmm. The world. A young boy’s heart. And everything in between.”

Steve blindly reaches for Eddie’s hand and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, and another for good measure.

There’s a weight to their words that’s not meant for moments like this, but it hangs in the air nonetheless, and Eddie breathes it in. The weight of a past survived and a future acknowledging that. Both of them shared like this moment. A promise.

“So what happens next? With Sir Steven and the evil wizard, and with Eddie the dragon shifter. That’s very fitting, by the way, you little hoarder,” Steve laughs, still keeping his eyes closed, and Eddie can’t help but join in, overwhelmed with affection for this boy.

This sunshine boy who’s having a bad day and a fever but still manages to be the most radiant thing in the world. This wonderful boy who asked Eddie to stay and tell him a story until he falls asleep.

“Don’t feel good? Do you wanna stay in bed, baby?”

“Yeah. Can you stay?”

“Of course. Cuddles?”

“Could you maybe… Could you tell me a story?

“I’ll tell you any story you want, sunshine.”

This incredible, insufferable boy who’s too nosy and too sassy for his own good, interrupting Eddie here and there to ask questions or give a snarky little comment that’s dripping with fondness whether he’ll admit it or not.

This boy. His boy. With the smile and the wild bed head and the insistent tug on Eddie’s hand to tell him what happens next.

And so Eddie continues his story about the evil wizard being defeated and the world celebrating the heroics of the knight and his dragon and their unlikely band of friends. If he adds a little Lord of the Rings imagery here and there, Steve won’t know about it anyway.

Before he reaches the end, Steve’s hand goes slack where it’s tangled with Eddie’s, and his breath evens out, the smile never quite fading from his lips. Eddie keeps talking, though his voice is hushed now and thick with a smile of his own now.

He loves him. God, he loves him so, so much, he can barely stand it.

“Good night, Stevie,” he whispers even though it’s barely three in the afternoon. He gets up and out of bed, tucking the blanket around Steve’s sleeping form and brushing one more kiss to his hair before sneaking out of the room on slow, quiet steps.

Outside, Wayne is reading a book on the porch, a cigarette in his hand. Eddie snatches one from the pack and leans over his old man to brush a kiss to his hair, too, feeling far too full of affection right now and needing to let it out. There is a sincerity inside him that needs to be shared.

Wayne lets out a gruff kind of hum, but Eddie isn’t so easily fooled, smiling as he lights his cig.

“How’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

“Asleep for now.”

“Good.” There’s a moment of silence between them and Eddie closes his eyes against the afternoon sun for a moment, drawn back to his story. “You let me know if he needs anything.”

“Of course. Thanks, Wayne.”

“Sure. Just wouldn’t wanna be crushed like vermin, is all.”

The laugh bubbles out of Eddie before he can help it, sincerity replaced by something lighter, something manageable for now as he lets his uncle bully him for telling ridiculous stories to the boy he loves so endlessly.