#silly little macaroni

[littleplantfreak]

For good luck

Two leaders leave their partners to go to battle - not without a token of their love though

or to put it less dramatically, you give Choji and Ume something for good luck before a fight (separately)

SFW anddddd no other warnings ig

Characters: Umemiya Hajime, Choji Tomiyama

Tomiyama Choji

You're holding two cards left in this UNO match and one happens to be a draw 4. Just as you're about to put in down on the pile, Togame walks into the room carrying Choji's jacket.

"Sorry to interrupt, but it's about time for that fight, Choji." He looks to you apologetically and your boyfriend looks at the clock on the wall.

"Uno," you place your second to last card down and he looks back to the pile.

"Again?" Choji whines drawing four into his now ten card pile. It isn't the first time this round you had him drawing stacks of cards. You think he might just be incredibly bad at the game given how often you win.

"When you get back, the color's green," you say faking grumpiness at the fact that he's leaving right before you secure victory.

"If I win can it be red?" he pouts and furrows his brow. It's his equivalent of puppy dog eyes that he pulls out at least once a day, so although he looks adorable, nose all scrunched in upset, you're used to this ploy. There is no mercy in UNO and he knows that.

"You know you're going to win, and no, it's green." His cheeks are puffed out like a hamster as he puts his jacket on, but his mood switches up and suddenly he's the trusted leader of Shishitoren, ready to lead his guys into their next brawl. He still silly and excited, your little lionheart, as he gets pumped up to fight, but he's a little more serious too. "Choji." Never one to want to interrupt when he's about to go all out, but knowing it wouldn't feel right to let him leave like this, you're standing, waiting for him to remember the small tradition you two began in the beginning of your relationship.

The first time you ever sent him off to a fight, you were so nervous even Choji could tell. He'd said you were really lucky, so if you squeezed him as hard as you could the luck would rub off on him like a charm. You weren't really lucky, but you knew he was practically unbeatable if what Togame told you was to be believed. It did also calm your nerves, so you elected to always send him off this way just in case.

"I almost forgot my hug!" He spins and runs into you, grabbing you in an embrace.

"Big squeeze!"

"Even bigger squeeeeze!" Stretching your words to prolong the hug, you both release the insanely tight holds you had on each other. He's out of the door before you can say anything else, Togame close behind.

Leaving the cards on the stage of the Ori you were playing on earlier, you decide to make a quick trip to the store for snacks. Surely they were gonna be hungry when they got back, right?

Umemiya Hajime

"I'll hold down the fort while you guys are gone," you say, not looking up from the song book. Your boyfriend is the last to leave after hearing there's a fight outside the Karaoke Bar on Keisei Street. Nakamura and his gang were surely already there taking care of whatever troublemakers showed up, but your Furin boys couldn't hear the word fight without running towards it.

"Babe," his voice is strained as he's ready to head out. "can you...y'know?"

"Can I what, Hajime?" You put on an unaffected act, but it's not one you can hold for long. He taps his cheek as he bends towards you, a little bashful now that you're actually looking his way. "What do I get in return for giving you all my hard-earned luck hm?"

"My everlasting love and affection princess," he says bending his knee in front of you in an equally regal display. He places a small kiss on your hand and sees you crack a smile despite your initial play of indifference.

"How could anyone pass up an offer like that," you giggle, giving your prince a good luck kiss on the corner of his mouth as by accident. "You'll get a full one after you're back and in one piece," a hint of warning in your voice as you send him off. You hate when he comes back hurt, even if he says it's not that bad and that you really should see the other guy. A heavy sigh leaves you as you're left alone for whatever amount of time it takes for your boys to return from battle.

Once they're back, more people than had initially left showed up. It seems some of the Roppo-ichiza group heard there was karaoke and decided to tag along dragging some new faces into the room, not that you mind. Umemiya pops in while everyone is saying their hellos and takes his seat next to you again.

"You're back from war huh?"

"Yes ma'am! Can I collect my kisses now?" He's extra clingy, feeling bad that he left you alone for even a short while.  You can see no one is really hurt from the fight save for a few bloody knuckles and swollen cheeks. Ume himself only has a small bruise on his jaw and small cuts on his hands. "Gotta heal you first," you say putting your lips to his knuckles, your intention to kiss every injury being made clearer the farther along you progress. What he doesn't know as you're distracting him is that you've queue'd up 'baby shark' on the karaoke tablet about 20 times as payback for leaving you by yourself.

[wishing-well-art]

I just think they're a little fruity

[trollbreak]

heehoo and aurrel neow!!! /lh

Ouh u pick an interesting pair!!! This going under cut bc teehee details to build to the Pondering. Also this is all very train of thought due to the heehoo Lore so :P

SO UM!!! First up, some things abt Heehoo our lad! And Boohoo, who’s um. Kind of inherently tied to him! They used to be the same clown. Teehee sometimes ur church worships eldritch things and sometimes u do weird magic shit that makes one person two. And it’s a whole thing!! Like um. With Gedian and Echo it was. Less than great in the end. But Heehoo and Boohoo had a great go of it!! They’re besties and holding hands and siblings and heehoo will kill u a million times if u try to hurt boohoo and boohoo will send a god after u for the reverse. They’re silly little clowns together!!! Smth smth comedy and tragedy masks, smth smth two sides of a coin, I love them in short

NOW!! I’m gonna face this as like, just swapping Heehoo and aurrel, rather than the person that was there before Heehoo and boohoo, bc um. I don’t have the braincells to make aurrel 2 guys rn lmao

SO UM!!! The base person would ofc b very different. But also? Aurrel is an ass. Even when he cares someone. He’d um. Be mean to boohoo without thinking abt it and it would Crush him Every Time that boohoo is so niceys kind and 🥺 until he like. Chilled out. He’s still very bitey tho, there’s just less baring teeth beforehand. U get faces and rude words when he’s angry and in a Mood as he is, but as a clown? He’d be very >:3 until he’s actively trying to murder u. Also, by VIRTUE of clownness, he would actually do murder!! Like he doesn’t actually do that as a Revant!! He feels like shit if he hurts someone too bad!! But um. He’d be. Violently protective of boohoo, and that would be a very easy way for him to just be. Very violent in general. Dudes living up to the murder clown image and then some. Sir please stop bringing folks to church just to murder them with your teeth, ur scaring the hoes.

He would eventually mellow out a little with time! …Eventually. And only a little. He um. Would get evil abt it tho. I think he’d dip from the church he grew up in the Second that the Gaze wound up as the host for their resident horrorterror, bc he’s like. Wtf, you’re nice. This isn’t how this shits supposed to work. Fuck off. He’d go kind of just churchless after that, and just um. Would do a lot of murder till he got accepted into the fleet to do cullings for a reason beyond ‘i wanna’ again. Dude grows up to be malicious and fucked up abt it. His thing abt body horror is a point of shame, and um. He goes exposure therapy abt it by being more fucked up. Bestie that’s not healthy. Boohoo is um. Going to therapy abt how she’s. A little glad he left. Dude got scary.

HEEHOO THO!!! Um. He’s still silly little guy :3 but now he’s Ferret instead of Corgi and he go BOING!!! I think he’s still doesn’t really talk much bc he doesn’t have much to say! But he makes a LOT of noises sometimes. Also: fidget toy collection. Cargo pants of em. And now he doesn’t do any murder mostly!!! Not unless someone else starts it for suresies. I think Junie def adopts him quicker, due to the hes more roam around and hang out with random folks. And they’re climbing into places they shouldn’t together!!! Please imagine for me junie and Heehoo Revant sat on a rooftop together. Heehoo is on a box or smth so he can kicky his feet. Are u imagining it for me? He’s so fucking ^-^. He’s also very much involved in rebel activity but shhh we don’t worry about thaaaaat, what he’s got going on with Bill is his business, we don’t need to knooooowwwww-

[gemwolfz]

more rare digital frogs yippee :)

[crybabypupper]

A Couple of Quick Food Tips For Y'all:

- Use cream cheese in your grilled cheese instead of mayo, as well as provolone or shredded Mexican cheese (just try not to use too much). For the oil, use olive oil or canola oil to make it taste even better.

- If you love Cheetos mac and cheese like I do (or mac and cheese in general), I would recommend only using one or two tablespoons of butter. Also, instead of milk, use a couple of scoops of sour cream or yogurt. Both will make your macaroni really creamy, but the yogurt will be a bit more noticeable in regards to taste, than sour cream. Personally, I like both.

- I like to make mimic pizza whenever I'm really hungry but don't know what to eat. It's just a tortilla with sour cream smeared on it, as well as some shredded cheese, mild taco sauce, and pepperoni. It's a very simple thing to make, and I personally think it tastes good.

[dearsnow]

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

[lilac-5ky]

Father's Day (Toji xFem!Reader)

Summary: It's father's day and you forgot to get Toji his gift.

Tags: dilf Toji, babysitter reader, secret relationship, age gap (reader early 20s, Toji early 30s), daddy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, spanking, mating press, mention of doggy style, cumplay, blowjob, gagging, deep throating, creampie, heavy usage of pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, slut, etc), soft!dom Toji being a condescending piece of shit, Megumi being an absolute angel, hope i'm not forgetting anything, pls don't murder me.

Word Count: 4.3k divided between fluff and smut.

“That’s it, Megs! You did so well today!” You smiled, giving the boy’s spikes a little affectionate ruffle. “I’m sure your dad will be so happy to see how hard you worked on his gift.”

“Liar.” Megumi put the glue stick face-down against the table. “It’s not as good as the ones you make, Y/N.”

“That’s because I’ve put years into it, you know? When you get older, I’m sure you’ll be the one teaching me.” You promised, holding his drawing toward the light.

The pasta on the paper depicted the face of a silly-looking man; chopped lasagna for his dark hair, spinach-flavored shells for his green eyes, penne for the jagged scar on his fusilli lips, and broken spaghetti to help frame the sharp edges of his chiseled jaw. The inscription “World’s Best Dad” was written at the bottom corner by yours truly, Megumi being too young to know the proper spelling.

Admittedly, it looked nothing like Toji, but even if you got the man himself to pose for your DIY project, you doubted you’d get any closer to capturing his charms. At least it resembled a human being, and that was the core difference between based on and loosely inspired by.

Megumi jumped from his stool and waved his hands before you, his fingers stuck together as if he were a duckling. You chuckled, meaning to settle the drawing on the table so you could escort him to the bathroom when you heard keys twisting in the door lock.

“Quick, go wash your hands and I’ll take care of your daddy, okay?”

Megumi nodded, dashing upstairs in seconds while you browsed the kitchen for a hiding spot, panicking as a couple of macaroni were chipped off. You grabbed the glue and hastily pieced them back in place, but it was too late. A pair of strong arms snaked around your waist, pressing you flush against an unmovable wall of muscle.

“T-Toji!”

Your yelp was silenced by his lips, hungry from having to spend an entire day filling forms and sorting mail at a work he despised with every inch of his being— some of those very inches poking against your ass as his hips bucked into yours almost possessively. Coming home to the cute little babysitter he’d made his girlfriend was everything he needed to recharge his batteries.

“Meg-gu…mi will see us,” you panted in between heated kisses, trying and mostly failing to defend your body from his greedy palms diving into your shorts.

He felt your skin flare up, so sensitive for him even after countless days of the same ritual. His index pried beneath your panties —the lacy ones he’d gotten you for your birthday— to meet with your pussy’s puffy lips, gliding across the gathering slick as if he meant to say “Hello”. His thumb rubbed a rough circle over your clit, giving the nub a few teasing flicks that were enough for you to arch your back against his chest, a hushed moan bitten into his neck. He chuckled to himself as he retracted his fingers and gingerly licked them one by one.

“Missed ya so much, angel,” Toji coed in a low voice. “Y’always taste sweeter when I’m not around, know that?”

You giggled against his mouth, his tongue eager to share your essence. “How would you know that if you’re away?”

“I just do,” he smiled, putting an end to the unforeseen display of affection with a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Where’s Megumi?” he searched through the space.

You moved in accordance with his eyes, swaying left and right to cover as much of the table as possible. “He’s in the bathroom. Washing his hands for dinner.”

Toji hummed, thumbing his tie loose around his neck. He could hate his job all he wanted, but nothing compared to the sight of seeing Fushiguro Toji in office attire. His sleeves were rolled around his elbows, toned biceps popping under the tight fabric of his white button-up. He paired straight black pants with a plain black belt— nothing impressive on its own until he bent over the lower cabinets to grab himself a glass, and you stole a quick peek at his rare and the impossible way the fabric hugged his—

In any case, you were convinced Toji had somehow missed Megumi’s drawing, his primary interest to fill and then refill his glass with fresh tap water. You seized the chance to transfer his gift to a safer location, though before you could take another step, he grabbed your wrist and forced your hand into play.

He studied his own face harder than your art professors evaluated your semester’s projects, his nose scrunching up at the finer details of his farfalle ears. “That why I pay your tuition for?” He snorted at you snatching the art piece from his hands.

“Better act excited when Megs comes here,” you straightened the creased edges and stored it in an empty drawer. “He’s already doubting his talent.”

“His what?”

He assured you he was just joking when you shot him a mean glare, your voice strict as you ushered him to follow his son’s example while you hurriedly collected the art supplies and replaced them with cutlery.

In no time, the three of you were seated around the table— Megumi on your lap while you cut his pork into bite-sized pieces, and Toji on the other side, wishing that their positions would switch. You swore this man got ten times handsier after you got together, seeking excuses to touch you even in front of his own kid. Megumi had just turned four but at this rate, it wouldn’t take long for such a bright kid to put two and two together.

The decision to keep it a secret was mutual (read: one vote for, and another against). There was no reason to disturb Megumi’s routine or throw him off balance. You’d grown fond of the little guy, and with his dad being away 2/3 of the day, you were each other’s only company. No matter how well things with Toji were going, if you suddenly fell apart, the one to hurt the most would be Megumi and you didn’t want that weight on your conscience. Being his number 1 nanny was good enough.

A certain type of silence familiar to the Fushiguro household shrouded dinnertime, with Toji trying to engage Megumi in small talk, and Megumi constantly glancing over his shoulder at you as if you were his designated spokesperson. “Yes, Megumi had a lot of fun today.” “Yes, Megumi ate all of his veggies at lunch, even the icky red peppers.” “No, Megumi knows nothing about the neighbor’s broken window.” The boy was relieved with every blatant lie you told his father, his knees gleefully flapping against your own.

By the time their plates were emptied, your food had gone completely cold, the oil in the curry sauce encasing the cutlet in a greasy coat. You gobbled it up as it was and stacked the plates into a pile that you placed in the sink, signaling for Megumi to come over. You handed him his drawing, encouraged him with two thumbs up, and sent him off to his “unsuspecting” father.

Your lips stretched into a smile as Megumi presented his drawing, mumbling a strained “Happy Father’s Day” under his breath as if he had a gun pointed at his head. So stubborn, though you could definitely see where he took it from, Toji’s reply being an equally stern “Thanks, kiddo”. You rolled your eyes and rushed to the scene, praising a blushing Megumi over his artwork and exaggerating his achievements to Toji who just wouldn’t take a hint. How these two managed to survive by themselves, was a wonder on its own.

Eventually, Toji gave his son a more fatherly rub on the back and hoisted the boy over his shoulders to lead him to his bedroom. Megumi squeaked, planting his tiny fingers into Toji’s hair, and clasped his legs tight around his neck. You remembered a meek confession from a few nights ago, muffled out by the covers and the plush toy over his mouth, as he let you in on how fun mounting his father was, feeling like a real mecha pilot atop his broad shoulders. He could be such a sweet kid when he wanted to. If only he was more vocal with Toji, too.

You watched the two disappear up the stairs and picked the drawing from the table, pinning it in the middle of the fridge for the world to see. You rinsed the pots with hot water and shoved them into the dishwater rack, figuring it’d be best to get as much work done as you could in Toji’s absence.

“This is the last one,” you said once the sound of feet thudding against the stairs became apparent.

You made quick work of the glass, rotating the sponge inside out, while the man leaned against the door frame without saying a thing, content with being a bystander to your impromptu clean-up session. Many a woman passed Toji’s threshold, some older, others younger, and yet you were the first to worry about the state of his bundle-bought glasses. He couldn’t pinpoint what made such a mundane sight endearing to behold, but maybe it was because of the very commonness and familiarity behind it that he hesitated to interrupt.

“Meg’s asleep?” You caught his reflection nodding through the glass, your following questions answered the same way.

“You got him in his pj’s? The blue, not the green ones, right? Got him to brush his teeth? Turned on the night light for him? Gave him his—”

A sigh echoed as he stepped into the space with his hands lost in his pockets. “How d’ya do that?”

“Do what?”

“The kid, the house,” he paused to measure his words, “me. How do you handle all that?”

Your lips pursed into an affectionate simper as you wiped your hands against the towel, looping it around the cabinet’s handle. You turned to face him and lifted your forefinger playfully. “One, the kid happens to have a very attractive father. Two, the house owner himself is sexy as hell, and you? I guess you are pretty easy on the eye.”

“Am I now?” His raspy tone was set on confirming every last impression you had of him, his tongue licking his slanted scar into a smile that was all but coy. “Which one you prefer then? The father, the house owner, or me?”

“Hmm, if I had to pick just one then,” your cheeks burned prior to your admission. “The version of you I get to call daddy.”

Satisfied with your answer, Toji pinched your chin between two fingers, admiring how eagerly your mouth popped open as the pad of his thumb swiped against your bottom lip, pushing slightly in. “Smart girl,” he cooed, feeling out the flat surface of your tongue, hot, warm, and oh-so-perfect when pressed against his cock.

“So what did you get me?” he smeared saliva over your lips, making them all nice and glossy. You stood still, faded eyes caught in the motion of his other palm shamelessly cupping your ass, his question barely registering.

“W-what?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” His fingers dug into the fat of your cheek, a warning in his voice. “Where’s my gift?”

“S-sorry, Toji. Didn’t think I had to—” A light smack cut your sentence in half, the recoil forcing you to drop onto his chest.

“Mm? What is it that y’are sorry for, princess?” He mocked, squeezing your bum against the growing bulge in his pants. Your cunt fluttered in response, clit whining at the little friction he provided. You wanted more. Wanted to feel all of him. The weight of his cock dragging between your folds and soaking in your juices before being plunged inside, every ridge and every line you’d memorized finding their rightful place in a hole that was meant for him.

You bit your lip in brewing anticipation, mustering the courage to look into his hooded green eyes that shared the same lust yours did. “Sorry I didn’t get you a gift, Toji. Should’ve known better.”

His smile softened, head cocking to the side. “Don’t sweat it. My pretty baby knows how to make it up to me, doesn’t she?”

You nodded, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “How about I gave you a second reason to celebrate today?”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you were being lifted into the air, both of Toji’s hands finding purchase in your plushy thighs, while his lips begged to hush whatever mention of Megumi before it was even conceived. He kicked his bedroom door open and shut it with his heel, tossing you against the covers of his made-up bed. (“Why bother if they gonna crinkle anyway?”)

He lost his shirt almost as quickly as he lost his tie, flinging both fabrics over his shoulder. No matter how many times you got to lay eyes on his naked body, you always managed to spot a new scar on his chest from his former lifestyle, the danger it packed serving as an additive to the wanton fantasy of having your guts rearranged by your boss.

Your legs spread quite the sight for him as he tugged off your shorts, your panties sporting a sizable wet spot right at the center. He forced the drenched fabric into your slit, drawing it taut around your hip bone. You moaned softly, mindful of the kid across the hall, while your hips rocked forward, chasing after the finger he pulled away.

“Taking care of my kid ain’t enough for you? Wanna be a real mommy now?” Toji sneered, yanking the belt off his pants.

“I want us to be a real family,” you confessed, bowing to help him with the rest of his clothes. You slid his pants down his briefs and let them drop to his knees, your cheek nuzzling to his clothed cock. You licked a strip over the fabric, thrilled to hear a breath hitch in Toji’s throat. “Let’s give Megs a sibling. One that is half me, and” you paused, wrapping your lips around the imprint of his balls, “half you.”

His cock sprung free the moment you lowered his underwear, the way his fat tip glistened with precum enough to make your mouth water. You wrapped a fist around his length, fingers barely closing around his hefty base, and gave him a languid, thorough pump. He watched intently, keeping all sounds to himself until your lips parted to fit his cock head, stretching around his thick girth.

“Fuck, baby—” Toji hissed, helping your hair out of the way while your throat molded back into his shape. You were taught how to take as much of him in as possible, yet no matter how diligent you were in your practice, you could never fit him whole. You bobbed your head up and down, hand stroking the parts you couldn’t swallow and tongue pitching in the action with sparse kitten licks along his shaft.

His fingers firmly gripped onto your hair, forcing your head to pick up speed as they traveled from your scalp to the back of your head. Your gag reflex protested with each thrust, hot tears gradually pooling in your eyes while you struggled to keep them open.

“Look so fucking good chocking on my dick.” His voice oozed sweetness that matched his stare, a look of utter adoration fluttering behind his pretty eyelashes.

If he thought you were the one to look good, then he should’ve seen himself; messy obsidian strands casting shadows over his darkened eyes, his pink lips agape more often than closed with all the unregulated profanities and praise that spilled out of them, turning up in volume the closer he got to his climax.

You felt him twitch in your mouth, the salty tang drooling down your jaw along with your saliva, though just when you thought he was about to cum, he pulled out, the string of fluids following after him. “Don’t want any of that going to waste, do we?” Toji smirked, pumping his length once or twice before letting go altogether.

He hunched over your body, his knees making the bed dip lower as his lips sought yours, jaw too slack to properly reciprocate. Rough palms slid below your top and ran over your sides, his fingers unhooking your bra with unmatched expertise. He broke the kiss to let you remove your shirt, his hands quick to wrap around your tits and fondle their way toward your nipples. He pinched at them, rolling the peaks between his thumbs until they stiffened.

“Can’t wait for them to get all round and full,” Toji mumbled as he lowered his head to suck a nipple into his mouth, suckling so hard that he just might draw milk. He wet it with his tongue, and then turned to the other, repeating the same motion. “Gonna get me addicted if the taste’s half as sweet as your pussy.”

Your fingers clenched into fists around the sheets, the sheer imagery of Toji feasting on your breasts enough to make your legs go weak. He was keen on sharing his fantasies with you, down to every last insignificant detail, but not as keen as he was on fulfilling every single one of them, and this one, was just a matter of time.

“T-Toji,” you said in a breathy voice.

A sexy smirk plastered on his scarred lips as he detached from your nipple with a soft pop. He left your call unanswered, instead spreading your legs further apart and settling in between. You saw him stroke his cock, and soon you felt the leaking head tap on your clothed clit. Only then did he bother to look up, taking stock of the little whines and pretty moans you selfishly withheld.

He couldn’t wait for his next leave to take you someplace nice and quiet, where the sounds of you crying his name at full volume would come in abundance.

“P-please,” you begged, fidgeting a lot more than before.

“Please what?” he played dumb, rubbing his hard cock along your entrance. “Use your words, sweetheart.

“Please f-fuck,” your voice cracked, too frail to handle his games. “Please, fuck me.”

“Aren’t ya forgetting something?” his thin eyebrow questioned.

“Please fuck me, daddy.”

Toji smiled slyly to himself, obliging enough to peel the panties away from your twitching cunt. “Don’t want a warm-up first? My girl big enough to take me without any prep?” he asked in a condescending tone, matching every beat of his voice with another slap against your clit. “Or is she that eager to be a mommy? That’s it, right?” he chuckled, your moan not going unregistered.

“You’ve gotten so greedy, Y/N,” he said after a series of little tsks. “Bet you also gonna ask to be my wife soon, huh?”

The air was knocked out of your lungs for a brief, albeit painful second as Toji aligned with your entrance and rammed his cock halfway in, his overwhelming size felt first as a sting in your walls and later as a tremor across your entire body. Even with how wet you were, it still hurt a lot more than your horny self thought it would— though it wouldn’t take long for the pain to melt into pleasure.

You didn’t realize you’d screamed until he hushed you, bending forward to press a sweet peck against your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze and gathered your wobbly knees onto his brawny shoulders, refraining to move until you stopped wincing and contorting. “Stay relaxed for me, okay?”

You shook your head and pulled him into a tight embrace, loving the contrast of his hard pecs against your squishy breasts. “Want you close, Toji. Please.”

And how could he possibly refuse when his baby begged him so well?

Your nails began raking at his back as he sunk himself deeper and deeper, the position he’d bent you into making it seem as if there were no limits to how deep his cock could reach before it was buried to the hilt. He stretched you so good, stuffing your pussy full of ecstasy and your mind full of dick as he started to thrust at a steady pace, never deviating from sealing the whimpers in your mouth with sloppy kisses.

“Doing such a good job, angel. Must really want that baby, hah— can feel ya really open up for me.” A calloused hand slid between your bodies and pressed against the tiny bulge in your stomach, appearing and disappearing with each slam of his hips. “Feel that? That’s how deep you’ve taken daddy.”

He dragged his cock out and pounded it back in, his heavy balls slapping hard against your jiggly ass. His hand lowered over your clit, flicking the nub in sync with his frantic thrusts until the coiling tension in your guts snapped, a shuddering orgasm washing over him as much as it washed over you.

“Love you s-so much, Toji,” your fingers slipped onto his neck, gradually hiking up to cup his cheek.

Specks of light glimmered in his eyes as they held your loving stare, the scarred corner of his lip curling into a cocky smirk as if to defy him. “Yeah? Is it me that you love or my cock? Came into my house so I can fuck you g-good, ah?” he stuttered along with his hips. “All that money I gave ya to watch my kid goin’ to that tight-ass pussy?”

“Answer my question, slut,” he insisted.

Your brain was going blank on answers, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock found all the right places, hitting every single spot that led into your fertile womb until you were back to writhing below him. “B-both, Toji, fuck love your cock so much ‘s fucking me so well.”

A hand moved over your dampened forehead, swiping your disheveled hair so he could plant a kiss. “Love you too, sweets.”

You felt yourself drowning in love as the squelching grew louder, the four-bedroom walls too thin to contain the sounds of hips snapping against hips and of his husky groans as he closed in on his high a second time. “Gonna fill ya up real good. Gonna—fuck, give my pretty baby all my babies,” Toji grunted, and you repeatedly nodded, cute little sobs severing the chants of his name.

Sharp teeth dug into your neck as Toji buried himself in the crook of your shoulder, his sultry moans reverberating against your skin until they hit their crescendo when his cock began to throb, painting your walls with thick ropes of his creamy load. He slowed down, luscious thrusts shoving his cum further in while you held him close, snaring your legs around his torso.

When he finally lifted his head, you’d both regained a sliver of composure, your pants falling back into rhythm.

“You’ll be such a good mama,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth over the shrewd ringing in your ears.

“Think so?” Your lips stretched into a faint smile that he was quick to kiss.

“You already are the better parent. Kid likes you most. Bust my balls when you have your tests and needa study.”

You chuckled, tracing the outline of his scar with your thumb. “Why do I get the feeling it’s the other way around, hmm?”

A tsk twisted his lips into a scoff as he bit onto your finger. “Ouch! What was that f—”

Your voice faltered as he spun you around; face shoved into the pillows and back forced into an arch while Toji positioned himself behind your ass and dragged his cock between your swollen red folds.

“Don’t tell me you thought we were done here.”

The next morning found all three of you at the starting point of last night’s exploits, Toji sipping on a cup of black coffee and scrolling on his phone, while Megumi quietly sat beside him on the kitchen table, awaiting his breakfast to be served. Your body felt sore all over while you grilled his salmon, sand in the corners of your eyes. Normally, you’d be trying to keep everyone entertained with idle chit-chat, but with how often you yawned, getting a word out demanded serious effort— effort you weren’t prepared to put in.

“Say, Megumi.” Toji took the reins, setting his phone down. “How would you feel about having a new mommy?”

The spatula almost fell into the pan, your objection stifled by Megumi’s voice. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Toji cocked his head curiously, propping his chin onto his palm. “Then ya wouldn’t mind if it was someone you knew?”

“Mister Fushiguro, could you please help me with the fish a bit—” you pleaded through gritted teeth, only to be dismissed with a swift gesture as if you were a housefly.

“I don’t mind having a new mommy, but I don’t want to be a brother,” he declared, stomping his fork against the wood for emphasis. “Never!”

You glanced over your shoulder, first at Toji and then at Megumi, before serving the fish on a plate and kneeling in front of the child. “Why is that, Megs? Don’t you wanna be a big brother to a little sister or a little brother?”

His eyes stubbornly refused to meet with yours, all the while they shot daggers at his father. “Don’t want one if it hurts to make.”

You chuckled, tapping at his knee gently. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you cry last night,” Megumi admitted. “Dad hurt you, didn’t he?”

“That’s not what—”

Toji smirked as he spread his legs apart, preparing himself for the show. “Kinda late for that, buddy. And don’t worry about Y/N. Adults can cry from pleasure, too—”

“Toji!”

And thus, your little house of cards fell apart.

[adrienneleclerc]

All-American Bitch

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N decides to help her super patriotic boyfriend celebrate the Fourth of July 🇺🇸

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: i love my American boy but this is very short

When Y/N lived in the states, her aunt would host a barbecue. Unfortunately, Y/N now lived in England, there are no other Americans besides her beloved boyfriend and he’s racing this weekend.

“Hey babe, you coming to the paddock with me?” Logan asked, kissing her.

“Ooh, I can’t, sorry, principe.” Y/N said.

“Aww come one, it’s the Fourth of July, I need to have another American with me.” Logan pouted.

“Amor, I can’t. What will I do there?” Y/N asked,

“Okay, fine, I’ll go by myself. I love you.” Logan said, kissing her goodbye.

“I love you too.” Y/N said. Once Logan left the apartment, Y/N got to cooking. Now of course back home she didn’t eat the traditional American food on the Fourth of July so yesterday she called Logan’s mother to ask what would they eat.

So the whole time Logan was gone, Y/N made macaroni salad, potato salad, she bought burger buns and hotdog buns, the pack that’s 4 each, she already had the hotdogs, she bought burger meat, chips, avocados to make guacamole, frosting, she bought everything so Logan could celebrate the holiday. She even made cupcakes and cake pops, she has never felt more white American in her life. When Y/N got home, she put on a pair of blue Jean shorts, a red crop top, and a white cowboy hat with matching boots she had purchased when she went to Mexico, she looked herself in the mirror.

“Logan better fucking love for this.” Y/N said. She was finishing frosting the cupcakes when Logan entered the apartment.

“Honey I’m home.” Logan said and he was shocked when he saw the food she made. “You made burgers?” Logan asked.

“Of course I did, it’s the Fourth of July and since you’re so patriotic, you have to celebrate it as such. Especially when you’re racing in Silverstone. So how do you want your burger?” Y/N asked.

“With everything,” logan said,

“You got it, cowboy.” Y/N replied. “Served yourself so macaroni salad or potato salad, your mom sent me her recipe so I hope it’s just as good.” Y/N said. Logan did just that.

“Wow, it’s really good.” Logan said. Y/N began cooking the meat, grabbed the bun, and started making Logan’s burger. When she gave it to him, she sad down, served herself macaroni salad and some fries. “You’re not gonna eat a burger?”

“I Don’t like burgers, that was more for you. However this.” Y/N pointed to the dessert and guacamole. “Is more for me. I grew up just eating the hotdogs with rice, but it’s fine.”

“I love you so much, thank you for doing this for me.” Logan said.

“Of course, Amor. I hope you appreciate this outfit.” Y/N said.

“Oh you know I do, baby.” Logan said, kissing her. He took a bite of his burger. “This is so good, I love your cooking.”

“You just love burgers.” Y/N said.

“That I do. But these cupcakes are so cute, it’s our little Fourth of July party.” Logan said.

“Exactly. We could keep this up all weekend if you want.” Y/N said.

“Ooh, love to, my trainer would kill me though.” Logan said. Once he finished his plate, he took a bite of the cake pops and was surprised by the inside. “It’s red, white, and blue!” Logan exclaimed excitedly

“I have never been more patriotic in my life, Logan, I hope you know that.” Y/N said.

“I know babe, but seriously, thank you.” Logan kissed her

“Anytime.” Y/N replied.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! I had to do something for Logan, it is his weekend after all. It was short and silly but I thought it was kinda cute ☺️

[egberts]

well since I'm thinking about it, the reason girl dinner really rubs me the wrong way is because my first exposure to it was a child demanding macaroni instead of the food her parents had already cooked. she demanded "girl dinner" and at first i was confused, genuinely thought that was a fun silly thing the kid made up... and then I learned it was a tiktok trend. a trend endorsing unhealthy eating habits and perpetuating the idea that women only eat small amounts of food. in reality i see people eating a box of macaroni and some candy for dinner and I'm thinking "damn they're going through it" but now it's fun and trendy to make small, nutritionally mediocre meals and embrace it as a lifestyle. and that's what that little girl i learning to be acceptable, the future ramifications of girl dinner and how it affects children is what makes me uncomfortable with it. the way it's normalizing not having enough food and putting off taking proper care of your literal most basic need. not to mention, how convenient that the trend of meager options and fast snackfood based meals has come about in a time when grocery prices are at an all time high and people are being worked to the bone just to be able to afford those groceries. no time to eat food, no money to afford food: girl dinner. it's not trendy.

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

Macaroni Art

Summary: Your daughter desperately wants someone to come to her Father’s Day party at Daycare and Kenny steps up.

Warnings: single mom!reader, your daughter is about 4 years old, daughters birth father isn’t discussed much, it’s just accepted that he’s not around, lots of fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst

An: I don’t know why but the idea of wrestlers being sweet to their kids has been on my mind. I haven’t written for wrestling for a while and haven’t had the time to really watch it so please be kind of it’s not the best

Taglist: @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @writtingrose @xkennyxomegax @melissahausen @fiskers7136 @bellalutionn @tummyyellin @legit9thlunaticwarrior @auburnwrites @thesusbunny

“Be careful!” You scolded your young daughter as she ran into the house the moment you had the door open. Your arms were occupied with your work bag and her backpack, making closing the door slightly difficult. Once you were inside you kicked your shoes off and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. The smell of food filled your nose, and you smiled slightly at what would be waiting for you when you went into the kitchen.

You set your own bag, keeping your daughter’s backpack over your shoulder as you walked further into your home. You could hear voices as you turned into the kitchen, seeing your daughter in Kenny’s arms as she told him about her day. Kenny nodded along as he stirred something on the stove.

“That sounds like so much fun” Kenny told her before he glanced up to see you. “Why don’t you go wash your hands for dinner?” He set the little girl down and she happily ran off, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

“I think I like this,” you set your daughter’s bag down before walking cover to Kenny, your arms wrapping around his neck while one of his wrapped around your waist.

“You like what?”

“You being here to cook for us when we get home.” You said with a smile. Kenny’s own smile matched yours as he placed a quick kiss on your lips.

“I’ll do it as long as I can.”

You and Kenny had known each other for years, you had been a promoter for different wrestling promotions over the years and you had worked with him plenty of times. If you asked any of your friends they would say they thought you were both dating back then, but you weren’t. Instead you ended up pregnant with your daughter and you left your traveling job for a more stable one.

“All clean!” Your daughter yelled as she came running back into the kitchen. You turned to her, holding your hands on your hips as you looked at her.

“What have we said about running, little missy?” You asked, watching as she blushed.

“Only walking.”

“Exactly. Kenny’s cooking in here and there’s hit stuff, you’ve got to be careful.” You picked her up as you walked over to the table. Kenny started to make plates behind you while you sat her at the table.

“What did you do at daycare today?” You asked as you started to pull things out of the bag. You let the little girl explain the different art projects as Kenny brought the plates of food over.

“…and you’ll come to school tomorrow!” She cheered, causing you to pause for a second.

“You mean mama will drop you off at school?”

“Silly mama,” she shook her head, confusing you further. “Come to lunch.” She pointed to the stack of papers that were meant for parents, little notes and reminders. You grabbed the one for today and your heart sank as you read it.

Good Evening Parents,

We’d like to remind parents that tomorrow will be our Father’s Day celebration at the daycare. Any guardian is welcome to come in for a picnic lunch and games, and at the end of the day students will give out the presents they’ve made in class. We understand not all families may have a father so any guardian is welcome and gifts were to be given to whoever the child wished to make it for. We hope to see you all there!

“Y/n?” Kenny tapped your shoulder as you finished reading the paper. You glanced at him before looking over at your daughter who had begun eating the spaghetti Kenny had made. She had a happy grin on her face as she ate, causing your chest to tighten.

“Excuse me…” you whispered as you pulled away from Kenny and went to the living room. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, and once you were alone you let them fall. How could you have forgotten? You had meant to take the day off to either go to class with her or keep her home that day, but it somehow slipped your mind. Between everyday stuff and helping Kenny after his surgeries a day off was the last thing on your mind.

As you cried a pair of strong arms enveloped you in a hug. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Kenny gently asked, but you were too upset to verbally answer so you just shoved the paper into his hand. Kenny kept one arm around you as he read over the note.

“I was super to take the day off,” you sobbed into his chest. “I forgot and now she’s gonna be the only kid without someone there and it’s gonna break her heart. I’m such a shitty mom, how did I let this happen-

“Hey,” Kenny pulled you away from him so he could see your face. “First off, you are not a shitty mom. You raised y/d/n for three years on your own, and you did an amazing job with that little girl. Secondly, you need to take a breath, calm down a bit.” You nodded as you tried to take a few deep breaths and pull yourself together.

“She could always stay home with me tomorrow.”

“She already knows they’re doing fun stuff, she won’t want to miss. Besides, don’t you have meeting tomorrow with the bucks and Khan?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind her in the background, but there is another option.” You waited for him to continue, but he seems almost nervous to. “I don’t want to over step, I know we’ve only been together a year and y/d/n had only known me a few months, but if she really wants someone there I’d be happy to go.”

Kenny’s words shocked you a bit, not expecting him to offer something like that. Sure, Kenny had been great with your daughter in the months he’d known her, but you weren’t sure how he felt about taking a parental role yet. You and y/d/n were a package deal, but you didn’t want to push a role onto him he didn’t want. She was your daughter, not his. As long as he was kind to her that’s all that mattered in your eyes.

“Are- Are you sure?” You asked him. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to go to this. Plus, you have work stuff tomorrow.

“Out of everyone that would understand missing work for something with your kids, Matt and Nick will understand completely. And Tony is pretty understanding in general.” Kenny tried to tell you but you were still unsure. “Y/n, I love you. I want to be in your life for as long as you’ll let me, and I know that means being in her life too. I don’t want to replace her dad if that’s not what you want, but I do care about her. I will be there for her tomorrow if you’ll let me be.”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes as you thought about what he was offering. Kenny was making the step from ‘moms friend’ to being something more for y/d/n. “You’d really do that for her?”

“Absolutely.”

You couldn’t help the smile as you hugged Kenny close to your body. “Thank you,” you whispered into his neck, some of his curly hair getting stuck to your wet cheeks. “Thank you so much.”

————————

“Mama!” Was the first thing you heard as you opened the door after getting home from work. You hadn’t needed to pick your daughter up today due to Kenny going with her.

“Hi baby!” You kneeled down to greet her, pulling the little girl into a hug as she ran at you. “Mama missed you so much today!”

“Kenny came to school!” She excitedly said, making you smile.

“That’s what I heard, what did you do?” You stood up and walked further into the house with your daughter on your hip as she babbled about her day. You could smell pizza coming from the kitchen, and you figured Kenny must have ordered out today as you found the man on the couch.

“Hey y/d/n, why don’t you go get the thing for mama?” Kenny suggested, having your daughter quickly wiggle out of your arms. You let her down and walked over to the couch, sitting down and cuddling into his side.

“How was school?”

“Amazing. You should have seen it, she was so excited to have me there. She proudly told everyone that my name is Kenny and I’m her mamas boyfriend.”

“Did you get any pictures?”

“Lots, I’ll show you later-“

“Mama!” Y/d/n came running into the room with a gift bag. “Happy Father’s Day!” She excitedly said as she shoved the bag into your lap.

“Is this for me?” You asked and she nodded.

“Open,” she pointed at the bag and you followed her directions. You pulled out a small keychain with her fingerprints on it, and then a paper with macaroni art.

“Ooo, what’s this, baby?”you asked as you showed her the picture.

“It’s us!” She happily said. “This is you, and me,” she pointed to two blobs. “And this is Kenny. Our family,” she explained.

You felt like your heart was going to explode as you pulled y/d/n up onto your lap. “Babygirl, I love it so so much!” You kissed her cheek happily. “I think we should put the picture up in the living room so everyone can see our family, what do you think Ken?” You tired to look at the man who looked happier then you’d ever seen him.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

[omegaverse-seeker]

Any fluffy pup headcanons?

Sure. Some of these might be repeats, lol. If they are, my bad.

Build-A-Bear, or similar stores, are really popular for young pups. The reason is that scent packets their parents can scent can be added in. So you'll see a lot of pups snuggling up with their stuffies when they miss their parents.

Pups taking naps in their parent's nests.

Parents lose their pups in the house because they fall asleep in the most random but coziest places.

It is a common phenomenon that pups form packs in school in their classes. They often move to the next grade as a pack if this happens.

Pups, around toddler age, pull a fainting goat/possum whenever they get too startled out of range of their parents. Cue their parents rousing them away with cuddles.

Pups are big cuddlers. Whenever there's a chance to cuddle someone they like it's free real estate.

A lot of people in the Omegaverse are sentimental, so the toys you see pups have come from their parents. Same goes for blankets.

Pups are very considerate without trying to be. They have a higher emotional intellect than that of irl children. They can understand quick. (This is specific to the biology and evolution of OV)

Siblings scent one another is so cute to me. They are out bonding and just hug a little, "Don't go too far."

I'm sorry, but pups on the baby leashes are so funny to me. In my headcanon there tend to be a lot of multiples and thinking of parents with a haul of kids is so silly.

Pups are always doing little crafts to give to their parents or favorite pack members. Just imagine their little backpacks filled with different drawings and macaroni art? I'm crying.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Pumpkin Carving (Obey Me!)

The guys want to try out pumpkin carving. How does it go?🎃

»Characters: Demon Bros+Dia, brief side characters as judges »Tags: Humor/Fluff, Bulleted Fic »Notes: Part of OM! Flufftober 2023 // reblogs are always loved & appreciated :3 // halloween divider by saradika!

Lucifer: The Show Off™️

Decided to go for an intricate design for his pumpkin

He worked carefully & put his entire lucifussy in it

It was beautiful watching him work his magic he looked like he was creating a symphony

However his pumpkin looked like mush in the end

Everyone laughed. Everyone. Satan & Belphie the hardest.

Solomon: "...it looks great Lucifer. I can see the hard work you-"

"Don't patronize me."

Mammon: Macaroni Art Vibes™️

Complained saying the whole thing was lame but he got really into it

"Heh, look at the little guy!"

It actually looked really cute for his first pumpkin, it had a simple silly face!

Took photos with it only because "it's the type of thing you're suppose to do!"

The judges liked his very much & he came in 3rd place🙂

"...Ya so where's my reward!?"

Levi: Limited Edition Collector's Item 2023: Akuzon Fall Exclusive™️

Geeked out because he always wanted to carve a pumpkin! JUST LIKE ANIMES!

Of course he had a ruri chan stencil already made, he was waiting for this day

His pumpkin actually looked really good & made with love! He even added glowsticks to it!

However dun dun dun, tragedy struck!

He dropped it before he could show the judges

Poor baby cried his eyes out & you guys had to buy him his favorite milk tea

Satan: The Smashing Pumpkins™️ (please don't sue me, thanks!!!)

A little too good with a knife

Made the best intricate design out of everyone, it wowed the judges (& pissed off Lucifer)

Then he started punching & smashing it, completely obliterating it

Beel tried to eat the flying pieces that flew into the air

Delicately placed a pretty candle on top of the mush as the finishing touch

Solomon: "...You know what I like it."

He came in 2nd place!

Asmo: Bedazzled & Bright™️

"It screams 'I AM the now' you know!?"

I mean, he added jewels & even a mini light up disco ball inside

He carved his face into it & it projected his face onto a wall

some say they saw it reflect on the night sky like a hero signal

Was Luke's favorite because it looked fun & bright!

Note: his pumpkin got stolen off the HOL porch during the night.

Beel: Frankenstein Era™️

I know what you're thinking & no he didn't eat it 😐

(Everyone made sure he was well fed before doing the group activity)

His pumpkin looked the silliest, he added mini pumpkins to it & stacked them

Solomon: "What do you think would happen if we brought that thing to life?"

Barb: "Don't."

He did snack on the few pumpkin pieces that got carved out

...OK yeah he ate it all in the end but that was later!!! Leave him alone! He tried so hard!!!

Belphie: BANKSY™️

Didn't really want to participate but whatever brother Lucifer says, goes.

While everyone carved & decorated their pumpkin, he just napped on his like a pillow

Lucifer scolded him for doing nothing to his pumpkin

Belphie challenged him saying it was a work of art & up to interpretation

The judges 'ooo & ahh'd'

His pumpkin came in 1st place

LuciferGrindingHisTeeth.jpg

It's possible Lucifer chucked the pumpkin into oblivion when no one was looking

Diavolo: THE Pumpkin Face™️

"You can't beat the classics!"

Wanted to do a classic pumpkin face to keep human tradition! He appreciates human culture!

He took his time, stenciling was fun & cutting was a little rough

It got a little messy but he enjoyed it

The pumpkin ended up being a thing of nightmares but no one had the heart to tell him

(Barbatos cringing in the background)

Luke fainted at the sight. Dia naively took it as a sweet compliment

⬦You might also like: Costume Shopping Coconut︱Waffle House︱

[sonder-paradise]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲 — 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

◊ characters. mitsuya takashi, gn!reader

◊ wc. 0.9k

➺ 𝘪𝘮·𝘱𝘶𝘭·𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘫. 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘺𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you chirp, swinging open the door to your apartment. Mitsuya follows after you, soaking in the familiar ‘new apartment’ smell that fumigates throughout the living room. 

“It’s looking a little empty,” he says. A light smile pastes itself on his lips and you return it with your own. 

“Yeah, I haven’t really gotten around to unpacking,” you say. Your voice coming out muffled as you bury your head in a nearby cabinet to search for the infamous detergent and vinegar you spoke of earlier. 

There’s a variety of different sized boxes around the apartment. A couple plants are piled on top of them and just a few random items litter the surrounding countertops. Mitsuya notes a calendar notebook sitting beside a half-eaten bowl of macaroni and cheese. Maps and a single unopened letter are nestled right beside them. 

“How long ago did you say you moved in?”

You spit out a laugh, your eyebrows wrinkling guiltily as you place the detergent and vinegar on your kitchen counter. 

“It’s been a couple weeks.”

“And you’re still not unpacked?” Mitsuya chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. You wave him off, holding up the dress. “Do you want this fixed or not?” 

“Kidding!” 

You give him an amused look. He finds himself in the middle of wanting to pursue the conversation even more or just shutting up and listening. 

He opts for the latter when you move to mix the detergent and vinegar together. You heave the large container over a small cup and the two of them watch the clear liquid seep on top of the white vinegar. Mitsuya cringes for a moment. The smell it elicits is sour, yet distinctly fresh.

A silence meanders into the dwindling conversation. It’s slightly awkward. It reminds Mitsuya of a fat cat lying across his chest. It’s slightly uncomfortable, maybe a little too warm, but he doesn’t dare move for fear of it leaving. Your eyes catch his once more and he’s glancing away to assess your apartment one more time. 

“So, why’d you move out here?” he says. 

“I wanted to become an artist.”

“Why this city? I’m sure you can become an artist in any city you live in.”

You pause your scrubbing. You’re using a small cloth to apply the odd white vinegar and detergent mixture onto the coffee stain. For a brief moment, your expression wanders to the maps on the countertop. 

“My dad was born in this city. He said he always found inspiration where the lights hit glass. Whatever the hell that means,” You scoffed, placing the cloth to the side and looking over the coffee stain. It was covered by your homemade mixture now and you eyed it to make sure every last fiber was coated in it. 

“I take it your father was a painter too?” 

“No, he was a truck driver. He liked to write poetry for my mom in his free time. He’d send it by mail whenever he got the chance.” 

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s silly.”

Mitsuya’s eyes wander back to yours. He questions the look in your eyes as you say that short phrase. There’s a bittersweetness to it like you want to say more, explain more but there was nothing else left to do except complete this little odd job he had given you. 

“Anyways, let’s rinse this pretty thing off and it should be brand new.”

You head toward your sink, glancing back at Mitsuya briefly. Your hand settles on the sink handle. “Hot or cold?”

“Cold, please.”

You twists the handle and water comes flowing out of the faucet. It seeps into the cloth and as if by magic, Mitsuya can see the coffee seep out of the white fabric alongside the foamy soap from the detergent. 

“So, how’d you get into designing?”

Mitsuya shrugs, “My mom wasn’t around a lot. She was always working. So I had to learn to sew in order to fix my sisters’ clothing. Sometimes they’d want dolls or little accessories so I’d just make ‘em too.” 

Your fingers slowly massage the last of the stain out of the fabric. You don’t look up from your work, but it’s clear you’re soaking in the information slowly. 

“That’s kinda cute.”

“It’s silly.”

Mitsuya suddenly understands what that bittersweetness from your expression earlier was. He melts in his tongue and he’s tempted to say more, to explain more. But he doesn’t. 

You look over the fabric once more. Your eyes narrow before handing it back to Mitsuya with a grin. “That should do it.” 

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

“I’m your neighbor. That’s all,” you laugh, “Speaking of which, let’s exchange numbers. I could use a friend in this city.” 

Mitsuya watches as you dig into the back pocket of your jeans and retrieve your phone. It opens on cue and the screensaver shows an image of a rather picturesque family. Carnival lights in the background and a young child smiling from ear to ear sitting snugly in between your parents. Mitsuya’s tempted to ask, but he reserves his question for another time. 

“Sure thing. I owe you one anyway.” He slides the phone out of your hand and inputs his number into your contacts. It’s odd to see his own name sitting in your phone. 

He’s not sure what exchanged after that. The next thing he knows is he’s standing outside your door with the slightly damp fabric in his hands. It still smells faintly like that homemade mixture of yours but it’s somewhat comfortable.

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…

[trollbreak]

People calling Pyrric pretty giving me pOWER

[five-miles-over]

For All Time, It Was Always You

Chapter 2: Mrs. Laufeyson

A/N: Thank you everyone for all of your positive comments! I really appreciate it, and hope you'll like this little continuation from the suburbs AU inspired partly by Wandavision.

Summary: After Loki leaves for work, you explore your new house and try to fit in with this world that feels too perfect to be real.

Pairing: Loki x Wife!Reader

Warnings: None really. Talk about 'traditional' gender roles. A surprise cameo. And silliness.

You waved goodbye, standing at the doorway as a black Chevrolet Bel Air departed from the house with Loki in the driver's seat. And like the doting wife that he thought you were, you blew a kiss in his direction.

When the car disappeared from your line of sight, you meandered into the sea green kitchen and filled a steel kettle with water, letting it sit on the stove the way a hen sat on her eggs. While the kettle grew hot, you searched the cabinets for tea bags,…and anything else that might help you understand this new, suburban world. A world in which you were the newlywed wife of a TVA employee who shared a name with the Norse God of Mischief. 

Next to a box of Earl Grey Tea was an entire section of the cabinet dedicated to biscuits of various brands and flavors: chocolate Hobnobs, Jaffa cakes, McVitie's digestive biscuits, shortbread, Bourbon cookies, and Oreos. At least three, unopened tubes of Oreo cookies. Were all of these sweet treats for you, or for your - you couldn't believe you were actually using this word - husband?

With a shrug, you grabbed a tube of the Oreo cookies, ripped it open and started eating them one by one. Holding the blue wrapper in one hand, you continued searching through the other kitchen cabinets. 

You found nothing but flour, brown sugar, white sugar, spices, marmite, extra virgin olive oil…, and two jars of strawberry jam from the same brand for some reason. And then, something next to a box of spaghetti caught your eye. A cookbook, with various pages dog-eared, titled Delicious Recipes For All Time, Always.

You blinked, carefully taking the book from the shelf. For All Time, Always? That's a weird title to call a cookbook…, a vague title as well. Inside the cover was a handwritten note, scribbled in blue pen.

The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Congratulations on the wedding, Mrs. Laufeyson! Loki's a lucky guy.

-Mobius M. Mobius

So that's who Loki was talking about at breakfast. He mentioned cancelling plans with someone named 'Mobius'. Someone who was making him watch tedious videos at work today. 

Jumping to the dog-eared pages of the cookbook, you came across various recipes: poached eggs, blueberry pancakes, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti bolognese, green bean casserole, Cumberbatch pie, curried chickpeas in coconut milk, angel food cake with strawberries and cream, chocolate mayonnaise cake…

Whiiiiiiieeee!

You whipped your head over your shoulder and immediately silenced the kettle's whistle, turning off the stove. Damnit, you went looking for tea bags and found yourself exploring everything except tea bags. Shaking your head, you shoved an Oreo into your mouth and opened the box of Earl Grey tea bags. 

Then, you opened a cabinet filled with plates, bowls, and cups, grabbing a white ceramic mug for your tea bag. On the top shelf of the cabinet was a pastel blue gift box. While the tea bag steeped in hot water, you reached for the box using a chair as a makeshift stepping stool. Inside the gift box were two mugs labeled 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.' in gold calligraphy And like the cookbook, there was a handwritten note as well. 

For all the mornings you'll have together. Congratulations to you both, Mr. and Mrs. Laufeyson! May the years ahead be filled with lasting love and happiness.

-Jeremy, Joyce, and Bill Hazeldine

With a gasp, you quickly closed the box and put it back on the shelf…only to open the box, taking another peek at the note. Mrs. Laufeyson...you underlined those words with your fingertip. Taking a deep breath, you put the box back on the shelf for good, promising to never use those mugs unless you were with Loki. 

By this point, the tea was hot enough to be enjoyed but not scalding that it would burn your throat. You took a sip, relaxing in its warmth, holding the mug with both hands. "Mrs. Laufeyson", you repeated to yourself. You looked down at your left hand, the emerald ring still on your middle finger just the same way it was this morning. 

After you finished drinking your tea and scarfing down the rest of the Oreo cookies in the container, you wandered into the living room. It was just across from the kitchen, a pastel yellow room with white bookshelves containing all kinds of hardcover and paper cover works. One would probably need an entire decade just to finish reading all the books kept inside the living room. You tilted your head and wondered which of the books were your husband's choice. But before you could sit down on one of the couches, you heard the doorbell ring.

"Who is it?" You asked, fixing your hair. 

A light, female voice came from outside. "It's Joyce!" As you made your way to the front door, you caught a glimpse of yourself in mirror hanging in the hallway. Your hair was miraculously styled, and you were wearing a cute set of pajamas…It almost made you stand still for a moment just so you could admire how desirable you looked. No wonder your husband was so lovey-dovey this morning.

The doorbell rang again. Putting on your best smile, you dragged your feet towards the door and opened it. 

Standing outside was a thin, middle-aged woman -presumably Joyce - with a bowl cut hairstyle, wearing a light blue shirt and straight-leg jeans. "Oh hello, dear. So good to see you again!" She gave you a warm smile and a hug, rocking you in her arms.

"Good to see you too, Joyce." You politely reciprocated her hug and let out a small laugh. "Thank you again for the mugs, they're lovely."

Joyce placed her hands on your arms for a moment, looking up at you. "I haven't seen you both since you came back from your honeymoon. Oh, look at you…" She marveled, "Married life seems to be treating you well."

"Thank you so much," you looked down, deciding to be as demure as possible, hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions about the honeymoon. "I…I couldn't be happier, Loki is so sweet to me." When your eyes met Joyce's, you touched the back of your neck. "I…He makes me feel like the luckiest lady in the world, Joyce."

Joyce quietly laughed with you. "You remember my son Bill, right?" Towering over Joyce was a lanky teenage boy with golden curls, blue eyes, and the face of an angel. He wore a grey t-shirt, worn-out jeans, and beat-up sneakers. 

You reached out to shake his hand. "Of course I do," you lied. "Hi, Bill."

"Afternoon, Mrs. Laufeyson." Bill greeted you with a smile that could make London light up during a blackout. "Congratulations again."

"Thank you." You placed your left hand on your heart, showing off your wedding ring just a little. "How are you, Bill?"

"I'm alright, thank you." Bill nodded. "I've been working with the church, teaching Sunday school. Thought it'd be a nice way to spend my summer after my first year of college."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you. I thought it would be good for my theology course to do something like that," Bill admitted before reaching into one of his jean pockets, procuring a small blue velvet box. "Actually, I have something for you, Mrs. Laufeyson." 

You covered your mouth in disbelief. "Oh, Bill…"

"Please, take it." He extended the box to you. "I bought it for my former-girlfriend Jewel." Blinking, you gingerly accepted it, running your finger along the lid. "Former girlfriend…You broke up with her?"

Joyce intervened, "He had to do it, dear. She was nothing but trouble."

"I'm so sorry."

 "No, I'm sorry." Bill shook his head. "I bought it for her a long time ago, but I suppose it was never meant to last. But, I really want to give it to someone. Please, consider it a belated wedding gift, Mrs. Laufeyson."

You smiled, opening the box to find a sterling silver bracelet. Simple, yet elegant. "Thank you, Bill. I'll treasure it. If you ever want to talk, or just stop by for some tea, the door will always be open for you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Laufeyson," he graciously said. "And I hope Jewel finds someone else who'll make her happy."

The three of you stood quietly outside your house before you spoke up. "Joyce, would you and Bill like to come inside for some tea?"

"Not today, dear. I'm so sorry, Bill's coming with me to do some errands. And I'm sure you might need to catch up on some sleep after such a busy honeymoon." Joyce teased you a little with the last bit. "Might only be a matter of time before you and Loki get a visit from the stork."

You laughed, looking down again. You remembered how Loki hugged you from behind this morning and teased you with the idea of "finishing what you started on the honeymoon". Almost instinctively, your free hand rested on your stomach.

"We should have dinner sometime, Loki and I would love to have you over, we can catch up," you blurted. Joyce enthusiastically agreed and said she and her husband would love that.

"Tomorrow night," Joyce promised. "Would seven-thirty be alright?"

"Absolutely!" You nodded, already imagining how to tell Loki when he came home from work. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"See you tomorrow." Joyce and Bill waved goodbye as they climbed into their car and drove off. 

Something ached inside you as you watched them drive off, maybe because it reminded you of the way that Loki drove off this morning while you stood at the doorway waving goodbye. As you closed the door once again, you pondered over going out tomorrow, even if it was just something as small as a mid-morning stroll while Loki was out. But for now, there were other things that needed to be done.

Tagging: @anukulee @smolvenger @pineappleandro @lotsoflokilove23 @talklokitome @rumin8ting @12-pm-510 @painedfever @iambetterthanbefore @princess-ofthe-pages @thenotoriouserg @lokischambermaid @lokiismineforever @lokidbadguy @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @wolfsmom1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @huntress-artemiss @itsdoni @gruftiela @ellooo0ooo @ireallyneedtherapy @jennyggggrrr @turniptitaness @lokiforever

[upsidedownwithsteve]

your writing is the coolest!! if you're still doing requests, could you write about shy!reader who stresses really easily and is always mentally reminding herself of the things she has to do, even if they're quick trivial tasks. but since she's shy, she doesn't really talk about it, and one day it all compounds and she break down. but she has steve to comfort her :(

this is the most self serving thing I’ve ever written don’t @ me

Steve can practically see the list that’s been written down inside your head. Your eyes staring blankly at the counter top as the pot bubbles away, close to simmering over the edge. There’s a rolodex of things to do in your head, and you can’t see the one you’re supposed to be doing before the next one creeps up.

The furrow between your brows has been there for hours.

And the boy will ask you if you need help, if there’s anything he can do, and you’ll say no like you always do, brushing him away with a soft smile and shy kiss to the apple of his cheek. You say no because it seems silly, the way you linger on such trivial things, a list from one to twelve of tasks that are easy to do. But it builds in your brain until taking out the trash gets overshadowed by making lunch and suddenly the vacuum is in the middle of the hallway, the laundry you brought from upstairs is left on the sofa and the sink is full of soapy water with no dishes actually in it.

It gets done. It always does. It just takes a while.

And Steve doesn’t mind the chaos of it all. He can step over the vacuum cord, and when you’re not looking, he can shove the laundry into the machine. Besides, half of the pile usually belongs to him.

He hates to see you struggle though, smiling when you write it all down or list it outloud to him, each task, each time, each goal and aim. And he always smiles and nods and says, “you got it, baby.”

But now, you’re still frowning, a pout pushing at your lips as you begin to chew at your thumb and the pot of - still just water - is bubbling over and hissing as it touches the flame. You snap out of it when Steve stands behind you, one arm switching off the hob as the other curls over your shoulder and chest, bringing you into him.

He’s warm and solid and his lips at your neck is soothing. Butterfly kisses, soft and sweet, and a quiet hum of approval is gifted to you when you relax against him. His hand finds yours and he tsks when he has to drag your poor fingers away from your teeth.

“Baby.”

“Hmm?”

“Baby,” he tries again. You blink, turn and press your face into his neck. “Can we compromise?”

You don’t say anything. You just cling to his hand and breathe in his cologne, your poor mind racing, head a little sore from overthinking. You remember you had to call the bank and you sigh.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice small.

Steve smiles even though you can’t see it, big, warm hands rubbing nice circles into the skin over your arm. He squeezes you shoulder, a mini massage and you melt a little more against him. He’s practically holding you up. Another kiss, just under your ear this time.

“How about we have some lunch, yeah? Get you fed and then—” Steve shuffles you both closer to the stovetop, dumps some macaroni into the still boiling water and switches it back on, low this time. “—you can finish vacuuming and I’ll tidy the kitchen, how’s that sound?”

You turn and push into him, arms wrapping around his waist and your cheek pressed to his chest. The relief is palpable and it makes you feel even more silly. It’s only twenty past one in the afternoon, a Sunday no less, with no plans or no time limits, and all these simple tasks would be done in a few hours if you didn’t stop and start so many at once.

But it’s the way your head liked to work and sometimes, like now, it got overwhelming and the idea of going to bed with the chaos still downstairs - and in your head - was much too stressful. You nosed at Steve’s neck, fond, grateful.

You nodded. “Sounds good,” you agreed. The pasta bubbled gently and you wondered if you had enough cheese in the fridge.

You leaned up, pressed onto your toes and waited. Steve grinned, ducking down to give you what you wanted, a soft kiss that had your lashes fluttering shut, lovely enough for your head to stop pounding, for your mind to just fucking breathe.

You exhaled, warm breath fanning over Steve’s cheek and he smiled into you. Another kiss, and then another, until he was pink in the cheeks and the pasta was threatening to bubble over again.

“Thank you,” you told him and god, you really meant it.

Steve shrugged, bashful, reaching with a gentle hand to cup your chin, fingers and thumb squishing your cheeks until your lips popped into a pout and he could steal another smooch.

“Happy to help,” he replied and yeah, he meant that too.

…