#so glad to be back home and drawing again!!

[sleepyhouse2art]

here are some crayon drawings from the hospital. they are bad but its hard for me to draw with a tiny blunt crayon. i barely got to draw and i really missed it so i thought id share these and talk about my time away

was restrained for four days and shot up with haldol. was let up only to call my husband which i think is illegal because it was too many hours. the er wouldnt give me my meds so i think i went through withdrawal cause my anti only has an 18 hour half life you know? i didnt eat for six days altogether. there was a nice cook who sometimes made me special vegan things but being there was hard so my nerves were shot and i couldnt really eat much. after four days i was finally transferred to the psychiatric hospital.

this is my therapist. shes been my therapist for five years and we like each other but when she told me to go to the hospital she promised id go to a nicer one and the crisis van took me to the wrong one. she wouldnt call or talk to me or answer my husbands texts. i was very mad at her. i dont think ill bring it up to her on wed. i just want to vent i think. i know she takes good care of me.

a drawing of myself

a little guy, a tiny prayer. i missed smoking! i blasted so many cigs when i got home lol. i didnt use the nic patch cause those make me super sick so i muscled it pretty good

my handwriting translated because its kind of hard to read sorry:

a window which you cant see thru

i miss hearing music

infected

if you freak out they put you in a little room with a picture of a palm tree on the ceiling. they also give you drugs

this is jocelyn. they left her unshowered for a month and left her sitting in her period blood for three days. it stunk up the whole unit and people laughed at her and a very aggressive fat girl said it smelled like shark coochie. she was very very sick. she was too scared of the orderlies because they were so mean but my friend melissa coaxed her into letting her change her pants and pad. i pray god will protect her and watch over her.

little experiential details:

the windows were pasted over with this blurry stuff so you couldnt see a thing. no music. the tv was always on mute for some reason. the er and the hospital didnt treat my cuts so they got really infected, all yellow and hot, and i got a fever for three days which i worried would keep me in there for longer. when i arrived i had to strip naked in front of a man and a woman, which has happened to me before. they notated all my scars and tattoos. the man was very gentle though. he wore a kippah and was always nice to me. we are mispocheh.

the hospital was hard. i was often denied water and the bathroom for a long time for some reason. i drank out of my sink from my hands like an animal. the orderlies were universally mean and snapped at us to get our attention like we were dogs. the nurses and doctors and admin knew our names but there were forty of us on the unit so the orderlies would just scan our wristbands when they needed to know who we were and referred to us by our room number. the orderlies liked to talk shit about us to each other within earshot. this big fat lady with giant spider fake eyelashes who was always glammed out said about me (and i was better so i know i was not hearing things) "that creepy bitch. she got them big ass dark circles and them big eyes and she tiny like a bug. always peeking her head out the door." lol. one of the friends i made had a very serious physical illness, i think it was called mcas she said, a mast cell disorder, and they wouldnt give her her medication and she got very sick and they all said it was somatic and talked about her behind her back.

i made friends with:

my very best friend melissa who would talk with me for hours. she had mast cell like i said and was denied treatment cause they said it was all in her head. she had a horrible scarring breakup after a divorce and asked a cop to shoot her. she was a singer songwriter. she told me its not my fault my brain is different and that i was so compassionate to our friends and i should show that compassion to myself. she told me i was a good person and i cried a little, but i had to nut up because if they see you cry you stay there longer because it means youre sick.

a guatemalan/italian car detailer who loves cars and her cats. she was followed at 80 mph by a cop and arrested and put on a hold and sent to the hospital, where they told her she was paranoid and put her on antis. she was very short and very sweet and she would try fruitlessly to sort all the crazy mismatched shitty crayons.

an autistic trans woman with a beautiful name who was my bestie. we made each other laugh so much. we were blue band team because we had dietary restrictions so always went to the front of the cafeteria line. she was so funny. she would hold herself when she laughed like it hurt. she told me crazy stories about her vampire sugar daddy who had a mansion in italy and two girl bulldogs who kissed her. they drank pints of each others blood and also cow blood she said. i tried to defend her because she kind of couldnt and people were mean and called her a man because she has a beard and laughed at her. im normally a very passive person but i couldnt let that happen. she was trying to go to a nice group home and was excited but her guardian totally blacked out on her and wouldnt answer her calls or let her go. i worry for her. she was lactose intolerant and ate cheese all the time anyway and it gave her bubble guts. she tried to be vegan with me one day because she said i was her role model which was so sweet. she liked to pour mixed coca cola and ginger ale in her salad with ice and eat it that way.

a very autistic man who was timid and scared and very gentle. a very aggressive man was screaming in the dayroom and throwing things and crushing cups of water and he got terrified so me and my friend held his hands even tho we werent supposed to touch. he likes to build model trains. he had an apartment and a job but his sister was trying to put him in a group home.

a man with a big scar on his head who they were trying to send to the state hospital even tho he wasnt sick. they said he had schiz like i have but i dont think he did. he gave me one of his shirts because i was always cold and let me keep it. i brought it home. it is a new york shirt. he says new york sucks now. i told him i was being discharged and he said i was the wards little princess.

a former banker and 30 year dope addict who had cool tattoos to cover his tracks. he was from the west coast like i am and had been all over this country. he gave me his sweatshirt because i was freezing all the time. he was gentle and kind and the meds made him sleep sitting up. he was the only person ive ever met who knew who sugar pie desanto was. she is one of my favorite singers. i will post my fav song of hers tonight or tomorrow.

a pretty twenty year old girl with bpd. she was a new mom to a six week old baby with a beautiful name and she was already pregnant again. her baby daddy was a useless cruel moid trash man who lived with her but didnt pay for anything or take care of the beautifully named baby. she had an ed since she was 12 like me. we both were trying to stop purging and didnt do it at all while we were there. i wish her so well.

an artist who had schiz like me. he was lightskinned and very tall and shy and sweet. i think he had a crush on me lol because he seemed very disappointed when i said i was married. we talked about god and time travel and belief. he was lds and im a jew so we talked to each other.

my roommate who had schiz too. they put her on a first gen because she screamed for three days and then she slept constantly. we would wake up at five and talk for an hour and have so much fun and she would go back to sleep. she let me shower in the morning and she showered at night. she said i was very funny. i made her laugh which made me feel good because she was so sad normally. shed been to the hospital a lot like me too.

a big girl with bpd who was very nice and i was nice to her but we had a weird relationship. the first thing i ever heard her say was at the med window and she said she didnt eat voluntarily. it was weird because shed focus intently on me from her table in the cafeteria and watch me do my food rituals and eat what i could or would. she looked at my body a lot. we liked to talk about our cats together but it was just really weird.

other people i met:

this bipolar guy who was really manic. he said he was a songwriter and he would scream sing and do that trill thing. he was really aggressive and scared people and menaced the women and afab people. he said he wrote songs but they all looked like this:

he made me sign it for support lol

this very mean fat girl who i said good morning to and she said how are you and i said good, you doing okay? and she flipped out on me and was like what the fuck you mean am i okay and said watch yourself you stupid bitch i dont play that. so i was always kind of scared shed hit me. she was really rotten to my trans girl friend i talked about. it was rotten. i didnt like her at all.

this man who always touched me and bumped up against me in the cafeteria line and touched my hurt arms through my sleeves. he always tried to hold my friends hand. he was always asking me to play dominos and uno which i dont know how to play and i didnt want to play with him. i wasnt delusional anymore so i am very sure the constant serial killer staring he did at me was real. i was scared of him but didnt tell staff because i worried they would think it was my paranoia and i wasnt getting better.

all the orderlies were mean to me and treated us like legit animals and i hated them. all i did was keep my head down and apologize to them constantly for walking by then and asking for water and the bathroom and asking questions. i came home and asked my husband for water and a cig like i was still there which made him sad. i very much appreciate my big old nice house but everything feels like a beautiful luxury with which i must be careful. i know i wasnt hospitalized for long this time but this always happens to me when i am, idk why. guess it comes with the territory. a lot of julian from my kirche street pharmacy comics and art comes from me but in a much more extreme and tragic fashion. i relate to him a lot tbh. maybe other people with mental illness can relate to him too.

i still have big yellow bruises from er staff and orderlies grabbing me by the arms really hard. my cuts are all healed but i think theyll scar badly which sucks cause its summer. isnt the solstice on the 20th or something right? ive been thinking of taking pictures of my arms so maybe people can relate and feel less bad about theirs. i only started at 27 when i really started getting very sick and they are a mess and im really embarrassed but i feel comfortable showing you guys cause you know me. also i have sick dumb stick and pokes lol

ok this is really long i am so sorry its probably really boring and whiny and uninteresting but i guess this is my blog so you signed up for this ha ha 💀

thank you for all the love and care and support you have shown me. i scripted ten pages of hard core drugs in the hospital so now i just have drawing to do and i will resume my work tonight cause i really missed it. just have to uh decipher my fucking crayon bullshit lol. so look out!!

ok i love you see you later. btw if anyone is ever struggling my messages and asks are always open and dont feel weird about talking to me. honestly im a pretty open book and i love talking to people and relating and making new friends. i know this is corny but i just want people to know im someone whos always around ♥️✌️unless I'm in the fucking hospital LOL

[bluewxrld07]

Been Like This Pt. 2

Lando Norris X F!Reader

Summary: After Lando's little encounter with Y/N, he sees she's got more fire than he had ever expected. He's making it his goal to make her give in, but he doesn't know the tricks she's got up her sleeve to make him fold first.

Warning(s): sly touching, mutual pining, liiiiitle bit of angst (if you blink you'll miss it), touching, dirty talk, fingering, f!receiving

A/N: I MAYYYY make this into a series...? If I should, lemme know, and also comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Love you all!!

Y/N ran down the corridor, nearly almost tripping over her own feet as she turned the corner.

She was late, she was so late.

She had woken up to her phone ringing for the millionth time, only to realize it wasn't the alarm she was snoozing. It was a phone call from Oscar, alongside hundreds of texts from the group asking where she was and if she was even alive.

Her bedsheets had never been shot up quicker than they were in that moment, she had never been late. She mainly overslept because of the work she was prepping for their upcoming triple header, knowing she had to get what she could do. She was gonna have rarely any time to take care of it when she was traveling.

Once the elevator doors opened, she sprinted out towards her apartment entryway doors, hands full of her stuff.

She saw the boys sitting outside in the large SUV, letting out a sigh of relief when they saw her scurrying out. "Finally! What happened?" Lando huffs, getting out of the car to help her grab her things and put them in the back.

She blows a piece of hair out of her face. "I guess I hit the wrong button on my alarms," she says as they close the trunk and round the sides. "I don't even remember falling asleep either, I'm just glad I had everything set so I could just grab and go." she explains as she takes a spot in the back of the SUV between Lando and Oscar.

"Were you working again?" Oscar trails off, and she gives him a look.

"Hey some of us have to actually take work home with us okay? Especially before this triple-header I had to make sure everything was set." she says, earning a shake of the head from Oscar.

"Sleep is important too, missy." he tuts and she playfully swats at him.

"Take a cat nap," Lando suggests as she turns to face him. He pats on his chest. "I'll even let you use me as your personal pillow." he says.

"I can't nap." she chuckles.

"Sure you can. I'll even wake you when we're near," he says, and she purses her lips before nodding slowly.

Ever since that night in Italy, she and Lando have been more touchy than they usually are. Tension grew between the two of them. Lando would get away with sly touches or kisses that looked like nothing, but felt like everything to Y/N. It drove her crazy.

Yet he wasn't the only one who would get away with things, Y/N driving Lando just as crazy as he did her.

Her little outfits or looks she would give him, knowing he couldn't do what he wanted with the room filled with people. Or the way she would dominate him with certain touches or words.

The way she would round the couch or the chair in his driver's room, take his jaw in her tiny hands, and tilt his head back to look up at her from behind while her hands traveled down his chest and sat on his thighs.

The way she would leave him flustered drove him nuts.

"I might as well, especially if I'm stuck with you lots for three weeks," she jokes, earning a playfully slap from Oscar. "I'm better than he is in most situations!" he sputters while pointing at Lando.

"We'll call it a draw." she says while earning groans from them both, which makes her laugh.

Lando pats his chest again and she smiles warmly before leaning her head against him, his hands immediately pulling her thighs over his lap to make her more comfortable.

He places a kiss on her temple as his hands squeeze and caress her legs, the feeling making her insides tingle as she closes her eyes with a hum.

"Feel good?" he mutters to her and she nods, the boy giggling lightly as he lets one of his hands travel in between her thighs and squeeze. His thumb caresses the skin there as her thighs break out into goosebumps.

Y/N let one of her hands fall against his own that sat on her skin, her breathing slowing softly as they drove to the airport.

Oscar looks over at the two, giving Lando a knowing look who brushes it away. The boys both had a quiet conversation as they drove, being careful to not disturb the sleeping girl.

Once they had arrived at the jet, Oscar was the first to get out to go help grab bags. Lando leaned his head down towards the girl whose head had fallen slightly down on his chest. Lando releases her thigh from his hold, bringing it up to grips softly at the front of her neck to bring her head up.

He smiled lightly as he stared down at her, before deciding to place a few soft kisses along her cheek and jawline as he said her name.

Her eyes begin to slowly flutter open, sighing at the feeling of his lips on her jaw. She lets a content hum leave her throat, signaling she's awake and feels his lips turn up into a grin.

His face leaves her neck to look down at her, his hand still grasping lightly at her throat with a knowing smirk. He flicks his eyes down to her lips for a split second before looking back into her eyes.

"We're here," he mumbles lightly, seeing a sleepy grin come onto her face.

"Five more minutes," she groans, but he lets out a tut. "You can go back to sleep on the jet, love. We're kind of on a time crunch because some girl I know overslept."

She shoots him a glare as she stretches, standing up to get out of the car and onto the platform.

One of the attendants handed her bags to her, the girl happily smiling and thanking them before making her way onto the small jet. She greets the pilot as she goes to find a home on the lounging seats, putting her pillow on the side closest to the window.

She was glad it was a longer flight and that she didn't have to dress nice for it. She immediately pulled the hoodie she wore up onto her head and tightened the strings to hide her face, as she slumped along the lounging seat on her stomach and closed her eyes.

The boys weren't far behind her as she hears them talking while entering the plane, the pair stopping for a second when they see her already comfy and cozy.

Once the rest of the crew had arrived and got settled on the plane, they all got ready for lift-off.

Y/N was close to being fully asleep when she felt a body begin lying across her own, making her groan out a whine. The familiar scent wafted into her nose, making her huff as she turned her head to the side to see Lando making home in the crook of her neck. "Lando get off," she whines trying to lift him off of her.

"Make some room then, pretty," he chuckles looking at her face, seeing it was covered by her hoodie and only catching the glare and furrowed brows.

"First come, first serve," she taunts while she closes her eyes. Lando hums as his hands come up to her waist and pinches her sides, getting a jolt and a squeak from the girl below him.

"Be nice and share," he says, earning a shake of the head from her. "I don't share," she hums, her eyes showing a flick of something as she says that. Lando smirks.

"Oh really now?" he plays along, letting his hands wander from her sides towards her front and trailing upwards slowly.

When he hears a sigh leave her mouth, he knows he is safe to keep moving. His eyes never leave the bits of her face he can see. "I'm not much of a sharer either," he says. "Especially when it comes to you." he taunts, his hands stopping and making home on both of her breasts.

He doesn't miss the slight gasp that she tries to hide, Lando chuckling as he watches her try to adjust in her spot on her stomach.

The way his grasp held her made her not feel uncomfortable or anywhere near it. It was a secure hold, but at the same time she knew what he was trying to do and she refused to give into it.

"Lando," she sighs, hearing the hum he gives her as he lays his head on her shoulder while his eyes never left her face. "Don't start something you cannot finish." she taunts back with a trail off of her voice.

He chuckles while stretching out his body over hers and digs his head more into the crook of her neck to place a kiss, his hands nonchalantly squeezing her chest in his hands softly.

"I think I could happily finish what I'm starting, yeah? Show you what you're missing?" he says, hearing her chuckle as she finally stares at him.

"You're still on that?' she says and he furrows his brows. "Oh absolutely."

She shook her head before turning her head away from him and towards the lounge chair. "Not going to happen." she sings before placing her hands over his comfortably.

Lando groans before he finally decides to let go of her and sit up, deciding to take place at the end of the lounge chair where her legs sit. He placed her lower half on his lap, his hands caressing up and down her legs as he let her finally sleep while deciding to conjure up a conversation with the guys behind him.

As Y/N began to finally rest, her mind kept going back to their little interaction. Their playful banners ran deeper for her, and she couldn't let him know that.

Sure, Lando would never hurt her, but he was still Lando at the end of the day. She has seen his playboy side more than anyone. She couldn't give him that side of her. Give him that vulnerable side she had. So keeping it playful was what she decided would be best.

Until she at least found someone that could hookup with to get the virgin thing out of the way.

In which she would never let Lando know she was in search of that, he would never let her hear the end of it. He would lose his shit nevertheless.

Before she could eat her mind drift any longer, she finally fell into a deeper slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lando come on, let's go! Showing up late doesn't mean showing up two hours late!" Y/N announces on the other side of his suite door, knocking once more.

The door finally opens and she looks him up and down as he buttons up his dress shirt.

"Finally!" she huffs before turning around and beginning to leave.

When she doesn't hear his footsteps behind her, she turns around to see he is still frozen in place as a smirk adorns his lips. "Just lemme take a second," he says while eyeing her. "Or maybe two." he playfully says, making her roll her eyes.

"Well you don't have even a millisecond to waste we're already going to be barely on time for this thing," she says going to grab his arm and drag him out of the hotel.

"It's just a welcoming party, nothing I haven't shown up late to before," he says.

She turns to look at him as they walk towards the entrance where the beautiful car sits waiting for them. Lando budges in front of her to open up the door and guide her inside, before rounding the car and getting into the driver's seat.

"Ok, so Oscar said he and Max are going together with Charles. They said to meet them at the table on the right side of the venue by the large wall of windows," she reads out from her phone, Lando watching her type away before setting it down.

He watches from time to time as she begins to mumble to herself about work and the upcoming schedules, a thing she does when she is overthinking.

"Pretty girl," he sings out, making her eyes snap over to him with a hum. "Take a minute and relax. Everything works out usually, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but-"

"Nope," he tuts. "Relax for the evening yeah?"

"Lando I never relax," she jokes with a knowing look towards him, making him huff out a laugh.

"Do I need to help you relax?" he says in a lower tone, making her entire demeanor harden. Lando's face never faltering as he looks over at her.

"How do you mean?" she asks innocently, making his lips turn up into a smirk.

"I can think of a few things," he says and she chuckles while shaking her head when she finally gets what he is doing.

"You're ridiculous," she chuckles. "You're also driving, Lan. So nice try."

Lando chuckles lowly at her comment, letting one of his hands leave the steering wheel and find a spot high on her thigh.

"Sweetheart, you act as if driving isn't what I do for a living," he jokes, squeezing her plush skin. Y/N feels her face begin to heat up at his touch, her eyes watching him find the slit in her dress and slip underneath.

She lets out a gasp as his hand doesn't stop, something she is used to him doing. He usually just teases her, but when he finds the crevice of where her thigh meets her pelvis it makes her realize he was serious.

Before he can get any further, she feels her confidence kick in and she grabs his wrist to stop him. He looks over at her, seeing a small smirk find its way on her pretty nude colored lips.

"I just might let it happen. On one condition," she taunts, earning a shocked look from Lando who then nods not too shortly after.

"You keep those eyes on the road," she instructs, hearing his groan. "Not even a glance?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"You only get to feel. You haven't been given the luxury of looking." she chuckles lightly.

"Yet." he says while looking over at her for a second before looking back to the road.

"Deal?" she asks and he hums with a nod. "I need actual words, sweet boy." she says in a sweet voice that always drives him nuts.

"Fuck," he sighs as his head leans back against the headrest, but never leaves the road. "Yes. Deal." he agrees. Y/N immediately felt her pulse quicken, knowing what would happen next was something very new between them. She had to keep her composure as best as she could, not showing how nervous she truly was.

Y/N then proceeds to increase in confidence as she sees the look in Lando's eyes as he watches the road as he drives, seeing his Adam's apple bob multiple times. She knew he was trying so hard to do as she told him to.

She happily helps guide his hand back to in between her thighs, her breathing becoming heavy as his hand gets closer to her most sensitive spot.

Lando fails to hide the groan that leaves his lips at the feeling of her being commando under that dress, his fingers coming into contact immediately with her slit. Y/N leans her head back against the headrest while letting out a low sigh at the feeling of his hand on her.

She decides to let his wrist go and let him do as he pleased, using one of her hands to slightly part her dress to give him more access.

His fingers immediately move up and down her slit, collecting the wetness that pools between her thighs before he finds a home on her clit. "Ohh fuck," he whines lowly. "All for me, baby?" he chuckles lowly. She nods and lets out a gasp as he rubs at her clit.

Only for him to pinch her clit a second later and make her jolt while letting out a squeak. She turns and looks at him. "If I can't watch you fall apart, you've gotta talk to me," he instructs. "Got that?" he asks as he pinches her clit once more.

"Ah yes," she gasps out, earning a satisfied hum before continuing to rub it in circles. "This is for you, Lan." she agrees watching his hand do vigorous things to her pussy.

"Such a good girl," he purrs, making Y/N let out a moan. She decides to take one of her hands and grasp at her left breast, her eyes never leaving Lando's side profile. She watches as he bites his bottom lip over and over again, trying to keep his composure as his fingers rub and press into her. "You're driving me absolutely nuts, Y/N. You little minx."

"Fuck Lando," she moans out, biting her lip as his paces fastens up and down her slit before doing figure eights on her clit every so often.

Y/N trails her free hand down to lie over his hand. "You gonna guide me now, love?" he sighs.

Y/N doesn't say anything, only keeps her eyes on him as she helps push his middle finger into her pussy. The feeling makes them both moan out, Lando almost doing a pit stop at the feeling of her how tight her walls felt just around his finger alone.

"Bloody- fuck," Y/N moans out as Lando begins to push his finger in and out of her cautiously, not wanting to hurt her as he wasn't sure of how tight it felt in her point of view.

"I've always imagined my fingers as yours," she taunts, wanting to bait him. "This feels way better than I could've ever done." she moans, making Lando press on the accelerator going faster than before.

"Please," he whines out. "Please just one look, baby," he sighs and she chuckles before letting out a mixture of a gasp and moan as he finds that spongey spot inside of her.

"Nope," she says with a sigh following. He quickens his pace inside her.

He slows for a second before adding a second finger that causes her to grab at his wrist while making curling motions, and then he pumps in and out of her quicker than his pace earlier.

It's becoming music to Lando's ears as she moans out his nickname, the boy now beginning to feel territorial to these sounds she's making. He liked that he was having this effect on her, and how compliant she became. He could tell she was still fighting with her own dominant side, but nonetheless he would love for her to take over one day fully. Let her be the one fully in charge.

Her walls began to convulse around his fingers, making her breathing stagger as one hand gripped onto his forearm as his pace never slowed while the other hand held onto the door handle next to her.

"Lando fuck, keep going, don't stop," she moans out, gasps leaving every so often from her mouth as he moaned out her own name while whispering dirty things to her.

Lando had to stop himself from parking that car as she began to hump his hand, screaming out his name as she finally hit that bursting climax she was climbing towards. Lando's own chest rising and falling heavily as he helps her come down.

He gives her a few seconds when they finally hit a red light, pulling his fingers out of her. She grabs his hand that was just now leaving the warmth of her walls. "Look at me Lan," she breathes out, the boy not missing a beat as he turns his head towards her winded frame and follows her movements.

She takes his fingers in between her own lips, letting them rest on her tongue as she sucks them clean. Lando curses in a moan at her movements, his pants tighter than they've ever been as his fingers leave her mouth with a loud pop.

"Sweet girl," he growls. She smirks at him as he takes her jaw into a squeezing hold.

"Sweet boy," she shoots back, Lando shaking his head unsure of what to say in that moment. The light then turns green before he can smash his lips onto her own, making him groan and her chuckle.

"So close," she jokes, earning a slap to the thigh as he finally just lets his hand rest there while they drove.

"You are trouble," he chuckles while shaking his head. "Absolute trouble."

After a moment like that, he swore to himself he was never going to let another man see her in that way. She belonged to him, and he would make sure she knew that.

Taglist:

@love-4-rafey-lando , @mimisweetz , @landonorrisgirlie, @majapapaya4

[mamadarama]

Which characters do you think would had tattoos? I imagine Kohaku with sakura-themed one

OKAAAYYY SOOO I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ABT THIS IVE THOUGHT ABT IT BEFORE

first heres the chart. elaborating under the readmore because this is a lot of words. im probably never gonna draw most of these characters with the tattoos i say here tho bc thats too complicated.

madara has a partial bodysuit (like a horimono tattoo but different style wise). hes designed it himself and continues to in parts. every time he goes on tour he decides on what part to add next and a general idea and then works on the design for the duration of the tour, letting stuff he sees influence the design so the end product will be a culmination of both himself and everywhere he's been. when he gets home, he has that part done, and then does it again. he doesnt plan to cover his whole body, just one really big tattoo. its primarily ocean and wisteria themed. obviously. also leo uses some of the parallel lines as a scale and draws notes on them/colors in uncolored parts/adds stuff to it in parts he hasnt designed yet with a marker. (ive had that idea in my head for freaking forever im so glad im saying it now)

yuzuru has a back piece that extends down the first half of the back of his arms. punk metal angel wings aesthetic type thing

kuro has dragon tattoos on his chest and arms that he got when he was younger (probably done by some delinquent friend of his) bc he thought they looked cool (they do) hes had them professionally touched up though

mayoi is struggling bc he loves making the designs so he keeps making drafts and is now paralyzed by indecision. thats rough buddy. (he wants it to be like a mural of weird classical art inspired stuff.)

koga is being picky because he wants it to be bigger and cooler than adonis' (because he thinks adonis' is the coolest) (his is going to be wolf related)

adonis has a back tattoo themed around his hometown

ibara has a big snake tattoo bc its awesome. plain and simple. its on his back though so he can cover it easily when he needs to.

rinne has both his legs done and considering getting his arms and neck done to match. kinda graffiti type stuff, he saw some street art and thought it kicked ass

tetora has a medium sized tattoo of a tiger on one side of his chest (to be like kuro but not exactly the same)

after his mom died kaoru decided as soon as possible hes going to get a tattoo covering one of his shoulders themed around her and her research. and he did

jun has some abstract designs on his shoulders/collarbone

jin tried to get one but was turned away bc he was drunk at the time, so he decided he would draw one himself with a marker. the next day he was like "actually thats pretty cool ill keep that" and went back and got it done (but a better version). its probably like, a dog on a motorcycle on his arm or something.

kohaku totally has a sakura tattoo yeah. i think its a sleeve and part of his chest. his is definitely more traditional japanese style than madaras is

ritsu likes giving people/himself tattoos and getting them (he taught himself, he's not trained. tsk tsk very irresponsible. hes alright at it tho). mika likes getting tattoos. theyre roommates. you can see where im going with this. they both only get smallish tattoos so they have more space to get more tattoos.

natsume has a pentagram on the inside of his wrist

hinata and yuta have half a heart on their arms so when they stand next to each other it makes a full heart.

trickstar each has a little star in their respective colors. mao was very determined to overcome his fear of sharps for this

kanata and chiaki also have matching stars but theyre like little meteors

eichi and wataru have some little decorative design thingy on their wrists bc theyre sappy like that

tatsumi has a cross tattoo or a bible verse on his inner forearm like thats just a no brainer

arashi has a paw print somewhere

before the war rei probably let ritsu give him a little bat or something. that was the first tattoo he ever did on someone else.

nazuna has a bunny shape/symbol (represents him) with 3 little flower shapes (represents the other rabits)

mugi has a little birdie :) he was curious what getting a tattoo was like so he got one.

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Astro Boy poster based on the Urasawa's Monster one

[fourteentrout]

Woah omg first of all thank you @whatifitoldyousomethingcrazy for mentioning me in your inspo section, I am both very honored (twirling my hair, kicking my feet, etc, your words were so kind and I'm so excited to see someone newer to the fandom have a response like this to my work!) and very glad because it introduced me to this whole chain/little interview game! I may not have known about it without you, so many thanks!

1. What drew you to Azris?

I was a HATER. I am a tamsand truther all the way and I thought it was RIDICULOUS that Azris had so much more interaction/fanworks than tamsand. And then I was like "let's see what all this is about, then". And now we're here. I still love tamsand with all my heart but DAMN is this ship (and this side of the fandom) on FIRE🔥😜

2. What themes do you explore most often in your fics? Do you have a favorite image or location to return to again and again?

Thematically, hmmm I think I really like to delve into the whole Getting Over It that their theoretical relationship proposes. Azriel having to push through/past his old feelings for both Mor and Eris in order to accept what makes him truly happy, as well as Eris having to get through like the hurdles of his father and being hated by everyone despite having ultimate goodness at his core, that kind of thing. Any sort of like...begrudging acceptance of themselves and each other. As for location....I mean come on a bedroom's a bedroom right😉😏

3. What is your favorite fic/art that you've made? Why?

Oh jeez. Ha. I don't know I mean ooh well I really like the hair panel I did for Eris a little while back! But that's just one of the boys. I mean I think I draw Eris more than Azriel, but I write Azriel more than Eris. Although I am working on a piece with both of them for this Azris week that I REALLY like how it's turning out so far. I digress. Favorite fic...I actually really liked my 5 +1 fic that I did for Eris Week last year. It's not my most popular but I had a lot of fun conceptualizing it and I like the length and pacing, I can get a little carried away sometimes so I feel like it's cool to see when I can like keep it more concise.

4. What is your writing/drawing/painting setup? Do you have a routine that you follow?

Hmmmmm well I mean I draw a lot on my iPad (shout-out to ibispaint x because I am too cheap [definitely not scared to learn a new program] to spend five bucks on procreate), but sometimes I'll do base sketches in my sketchbook and like take a picture and trace over those instead of doing a bunch of construction layers in the app. Physically, I usually just draw at my desk when I'm at school, and wherever suits me when I'm at home. Probably not the best for my neck and back tho lol

5. Give a favorite headcanon about Azriel and Eris, separately, and Azriel and Eris, together.

I beeelieve I first read this in Our Bodies, Possessed by Light by @iftheshoef1tz, one of my favorite headcanons about Azriel is that he loves cheese. I don't know it's so humanizing and wholesome and like establishes him as a person instead of just like literary emo eye candy LMAO I love it. For Eris, I like to think that he's really athletic, sports oriented, but also in like an acrobatic way? I can just imagine that guy doing crazy flips and parkour and shit while fighting, it's just so fun to picture. And together...hm well I really love a lot of the sexual dynamics that people have introduced for them. Especially when you can like apply a label to either of them, like I love figuring out possible reasoning behind Azriel being submissive with Eris versus Eris being submissive with Azriel, and like how that could fit with their established characters and personalities. I also fucking FOAM at the MOUTH over the (now kind of very widely accepted??) headcanon that Eris can see/sense Azriel through his shadows. I have a fic in mind that centers around this!

6. Have you worn wigs?

Surprisingly no but I have worn a fake beard

7. Will you wear wigs?

.......maybe!😃

8. What upcoming projects are you excited about?

Well I have two art projects that I'm working on for Azris week that both have me PUMPED, I also have so many fic ideas that I really want to get down once How To Be The Ultimate Tool Of Destruction is finished, like I said I have one that I've already actually started jotting some notes down for that centers a bit around Eris being able to See Azriel, but I also have what may end up being a longer fic planned (I've actually done some outlining for it!) that'll include Fire Sprite Eris, and I also have some tamsand works in mind that I really want to get to lol (one of which would be like...loosely inspired by The Shape of Water, which I havent seen)

9. Name some influences on your art or writing style.

Oh God I mean @palomita-de-la-sangre has one of THEE coolest styles I've ever seen, I am majorly inspired by her manipulation of anatomy, color, and just her unique distinction, like I want a style where people would be able to look at my work and know who made it. @lucychanart is also a major influence in that every time I see her incredible work it makes ME want to draw, and she always has the sexiest ideas that get the gears turning. @makinglongwordsslutty also has so much amazing charcoal realism, it always makes me want to venture into new(er) mediums and give some love to more realistic depictions of the characters. Writing wise I can't even choose. Everybody. Literally like almost every single Azris fic has either inspired me, intimidated me, or both. There are so many talented writers in this little(ish) niche of the fandom it makes me INSANE

Also @bloodyplunder for some reason it's not letting me tag you in the section that I was using for my answer but DAMN does her work always make me froth at the mouth and also very much want to draw a little sumn sumn sexy sexy

10. What encouragement would you give someone who is just beginning a project? Someone who is stalled on a project? Someone losing steam/interest?

One: maybe cliche, but just start. Don't let any kind of nervousness or imposter syndrome or self consciousness stop you from creating. If you have something in mind you want to make real, DO IT. It might not look exactly how you imagine it, but that's okay. It may take a while to get to the point where that does happen, but that's okay too, that's the joy of learning and growing both as an artist/writer/creator and an individual. Slap down some rudimentary sketches. Experiment with brushes in digital programs. Find the mediums that work for you. Just don't stop yourself before you've even started.

Two: If you're stalled on a project, take a step back. Work on something else, if you have anything. Or just let it be altogether. Don't give up forever, just give it some space, and then you'll be able to look at with fresh eyes and perhaps renewed motivation

Three: losing steam/interest is totally fine! If it's something you REALLY want to finish, but just can't seem to hit the home stretch, try what I mentioned above. But if you're over it, it's okay to let it be and never return to it. And maybe one day you'll look back at it and think man I should have finished this. Oh wait, I still can! And maybe you won't, but that's okay too. No sense in pushing yourself to enjoy something that you don't actually gain any joy from anymore

Thanks so much for arranging this, @azrisweek! I had a lot of fun answering. If anyone sees this, my one question is:

Do you support Long Hair Eris, Short Hair Eris, or something in between?

Azris Week 2025 Self-Spotlight

Only five more days until the main event! To continue fostering more community between Azris creators, instead of having user-submitted writers or artists answer some questions, creators can interview themselves!

Pretend you can see my jazz hands.

These questions are for ALL Azris creators - writers, mood board creators, artists, you get the idea! At the end of Azris Week, anyone who has filled out the below interview will get added to a master list so that everyone can see your thoughts. Feel free to add your own questions at the bottom, if you think of anything else you’d like to say about your Azris Week creations.

If you aren’t doing anything for Azris Week 2025 but want to participate anyway, go ahead! No one will stop you and you’ll still be included in the master list.

Questions

1. What drew you to Azris?

2. What themes do you explore most often in your fics? Do you have a favorite image or location that you return to again and again?

3. What is your favorite fic/art that you’ve made? Why?

4. What is your writing/drawing/painting setup? Do you have a routine that you follow?

5. Give a favorite headcanon about Azriel and Eris, separately, and Azriel and Eris, together.

6. Have you worn wigs?

7. Will you wear wigs?

8. What upcoming projects are you excited about?

9. Name some influences on your writing or art style - could be fellow writers, poets, singers, nature, etc.

10. What encouragement would you give someone who is just beginning a project? Someone who is stalled on a project? Someone losing steam/interest?

[askbensolo]

There are definitely worse people you could be interested in, that’s for sure haha. Though Ben, there’s something you should seriously think about before you do anything else that might help clear things up. Unfortunately, it requires you to think about *shudders* The Future

Picture yourself down the line. How do you feel if you imagine yourself married/otherwise committed (romo or QPR), in general or to Fannie? What does that look like? Do you want kids or not? How would you feel if Fannie said she did or didn’t want kids? If you do, they’ll likely be Force Sensitive like you two — would you want them to train to be Jedi or not? Her being a Jedi and someone who does social work — it isn’t necessarily always safe. How do you feel about the thought of her getting hurt? How about her traveling for work, potentially leaving you at home, or you traveling with her? What about her connection with the Force? Not to sound like your mother, but Snoke used the Force to groom you essentially — what if he tries to get to you through her? What about family — if both of you keep contact with your families, she’ll be involved in Organa-Solo-Skywalker drama and politics and tabloids, and you’ll have slaves as sisters-in-law and a slaver as a father-in-law. Both of you have trauma and hard pasts — how do you feel about letting her really see yours? How do you feel about really seeing hers?

And what about the boring stuff? How do you feel about doing taxes together, drying dishes, washing the farts out of the bedsheets five, ten, twenty years down the line?

Think about it, man. If you don’t hate the answers to whatever questions you ask yourself, if you think you’ll be happier with the mess than without? Well why not give it a try?

(And again, trust me dude, literally flying solo is great, but if you’re gonna date, dating her would probably work out a LOT better for you than if you date someone else)

Listen. I’m not advocating for pre-alcoholic coping behaviors. All I’m saying is…staring down THIS particular krayt dragon of an ask? Got a WHOLE LOT easier after two shots of the finest Corellian brandy. And when I say “the finest,” I am of course speaking facetiously, because I’m referring to whatever swill that was that Treeso left in the pantry when he moved out. My dad would be so disappointed—but whatever, he ain’t here. Help me, cheap liquor. You’re my only hope.

Mmkay. Come here, Future. Look me in the eyes. I’m not frickin’ scared. TAKE ME.

How do I feel when I imagine myself married? Previously, I felt terrified beyond all belief, but now that I’ve had some time to let the concept marinate—weird, but not bad. Married in general? Neutral. Married to Fannie specifically? Mildly positive. What’s it look like? Similar to our June on Naboo, I guess. Being a team and doing stuff together around the house and hanging out. Probably fighting too apparently, but I mean…have you witnessed the parents who have borne and raised me?

Do I want kids? Currently: no. But, hey. When I was a kid I was terrified of moving out of my parents’ house and I did that and I was scared to get a job and I did that and I never thought I’d start working out but I do that and I NEVER thought I’d date but now I just might, so who the heck knows? Maybe I’ll be a dad someday and my kids will be only slightly less messed up than I am. As for Fannie I already know she wants kids because she’s my friend and I know that about her so I guess if she wanted kids we’d have kids and if the kids were Force-sensitive I’d let the kids decide whether or not they wanted to be Jedi because I grew up under an expectation that I would become one and that wasn’t a good experience and if Fannie was like, “No, they have to be Jedi” I’d…well, we’d have to have a Discussion about that.

How do I feel about Fannie getting hurt? Bad. What if she had to relocate? Guess I'd go with her. What if Snoke tries to get to me through her? I said it before and I'll say it again, I don't think I have any use to him anymore so I'm confident he'll be leaving me the heck alone.

Fannie getting involved in our family drama—I think she can handle that. She doesn't really seem to follow galactic gossip or stuff that happens on the holonet. Could I handle her family—I think so? I've never met them I guess we'd just have to see. Yeah I think we could handle each other's trauma. We've been friends for a long time and I think we already know most things about each other at this point anyway. She was the one who told my parents about Snoke, even though I didn't want her to at the time, and she's told me a lot about her family back on Ryloth even if I've never met them.

Doing chores together sounds...nice.

You really think she's that special, huh? I mean...yeah, she kinda is. She's really sweet. And kind. The first friend I made at Luke's school. She's been through fire but it turned her into one of the bravest, wisest people I know. She cares so much about people. She's gentle and quiet but the first one to look you in the eyes with a smile and a hello if you don't know anyone around, and she will always fight for what's right, and she has this habit of apologizing for things you were never even bothered by but she'll say she felt the need to apologize because she recognized her heart wasn't in the right place. She loves her family so much in a way that puts me to shame, and she can always find hope and joy and goodness in the worst of times...

And she's beautiful, the way she smiles, the way her nose crinkles when I make a bad joke, the way her big brown eyes hold a mirror to the stars, the way her lekku hang when she stands at the stove with her back to me, how incredibly stupid she looked when she was dancing and didn't know I was there...

And the way she looks at me. Like I'm someone. Not because of who my parents are or because I run a galaxy-famous blog (just kidding) or because I'm a hot gym boi now. Nah, she just likes me. For some reason. And the way I feel when she looks at me like that, I wish I could put it in a bottle and hold onto it for those nights when everything is way too quiet and I'm losing my mind...

...Maybe the third shot of brandy was a mistake. I didn't think I liked her this much.

…Like her? Nah, I love her.

Yeah…I love her.

And I’m starting to think…that you don’t figure out whether you’re in love with someone. You…decide whether you’re in love with someone.

Well…I’ve decided that I am.

[p1psqueaks]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — FIRST “I LOVE YOU”

ZAYNE

You don’t even remember what they said when they called your name.

Something about courage. About leadership. About the recent mission and how it “wouldn’t have succeeded without your tactical intuition.” The applause was loud, the flash of the holo-cameras brighter than it needed to be. You smiled. You shook hands. You took the crystal-etched plaque from the Director with practiced grace.

But the only thing you really remember is looking toward the crowd and finding him.

Zayne, standing near the back — like he always does. Not trying to be seen, not demanding attention. Just watching you with that steady look of his. Calm. Quiet. Proud.

When you finally get off the stage, people swarm you. Congratulating you. Slapping your back. Toasting to you. It blurs into a dizzy, golden haze.

But when you turn around, he’s already there.

“You looked incredibly awkward up there,” Zayne says, folding his arms, mouth twitching in that almost-smile he pretends not to have.

You laugh. “Thanks. I was going for ‘confident and composed.’”

“Mm. Landed somewhere between ‘deer in headlights’ and ‘trying not to pass out.’ Still — impressive.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart’s pounding — not from nerves anymore, but from him. From the way he’s here, quietly orbiting your world like he always does. Constant. Solid. Yours, even if the words haven’t been said yet.

You hold up the plaque between you. “They gave me this. Probably to keep me from blowing up another hallway during recon.”

He quirks a brow. “You’ve only blown up one hallway. That’s below average.”

You laugh again — a little breathless this time. And then you really look at him.

He’s in that dark jacket he saves for formal events, sleeves rolled just enough to still be himself. His hair is slightly mussed, like he got here in a rush and didn’t bother fixing it. But his eyes — they’re steady. Warm.

And suddenly, the weight of the night hits you. The missions. The near-misses. The days you weren’t sure you’d make it home. The nights you did, and he was always there. Even if he never said much, even if he never needed to.

You reach for his hand — the one still at his side — and curl your fingers around his.

“Zayne.”

He tilts his head, just slightly. “Hmm?”

“I love you.”

It’s soft. Real. No fanfare, no ceremony. Just you, saying the one thing that’s been stuck in your chest since long before tonight.

Zayne’s breath catches — so small, you almost miss it. His hand tightens around yours.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just searches your face like he’s committing every inch of it to memory.

“I was wondering when you’d say it,” he says finally, voice low, a touch raspy.

Your heart skips. “You knew?”

“I had a guess,” he says, dry. “But I’m a doctor. I wait for confirmation before drawing conclusions.”

You laugh — full this time, warmth rising through your ribs. “You’re impossible.”

He steps in closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I love you too,” he says, steady as stone. “Always have. Even before I figured out what to do with it.”

You breathe out shakily, letting your forehead rest lightly against his.

“I’m glad it’s you,” you whisper. “That you’re here.”

He exhales — slow, grounding. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

XAVIER

You don’t remember running. Just the sound of the collapsing metal above you, the warning sirens blaring, the flicker of Xavier’s hand grabbing yours and not letting go.

The dust is still settling around you, the transport’s back hatch sealed, the hum of hyperspeed kicking in just behind your ribs.

You’re alive. Barely.

Your lungs burn. Your legs shake. And you can’t seem to stop gripping Xavier’s arm like if you let go, the whole world might fall apart again.

He’s sitting across from you, equally disheveled — hair mussed, clothes scorched in places, a smear of black across his cheekbone. He’s blinking hard, like he’s trying to believe it too. That you both made it.

Then he meets your eyes. And everything inside you cracks wide open.

“I love you.”

You don’t mean to say it. Not like this. Not with adrenaline still screaming through your veins and the taste of smoke in your mouth. But the words tumble out anyway, desperate and trembling and real.

Xavier goes very still.

His eyes go wide, and for a second, you swear he stops breathing.

“I—uh—what?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “I said I love you.”

He blinks. Again. Slowly. Like the words are still echoing around his head and he’s trying to make sense of them.

“You just almost died,” he says, his voice somewhere between disbelief and panic. “We both almost died. You’re in shock. You’re—are you concussed?”

You reach out and touch his wrist, grounding both of you. “I’m not. I meant it.”

He looks at you like you’ve just handed him a live wire and asked him to hold it still. He opens his mouth. Closes it again.

Then, softly: “You love me?”

You nod. “I know I said it at the worst possible time, but it’s been sitting in my chest for weeks and I couldn’t—I didn’t want to wait anymore. Not after… that.”

He exhales. Quiet. A little stunned.

His eyes flick down, like he’s trying to hide the smile threatening the corner of his mouth — as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with it. “You love me,” he says again, like he’s testing the words out in the air. “You. Love me.”

He shifts, rubs the back of his neck, then lets out a breathy, awkward laugh. “God, I… I had this whole plan. For when I told you. It involved music. Candles. Charts.”

“Charts?” you echo, laughing despite yourself.

“I panicked, okay? I like structure,” he mutters, eyes darting anywhere but at you.

You reach out and cup his cheek, thumb brushing that smudge of dirt like it’s something sacred.

“You don’t need charts. Just tell me how you feel.”

He leans into your touch. Swallows once.

“I love you,” he says, like it’s the most terrifying, incredible thing he’s ever admitted. “You scare the hell out of me in the best possible way.”

Your breath catches.

He lets out another laugh — softer now. “I was going to wait for the perfect moment. But if today taught me anything, it’s that waiting is overrated.”

You both fall quiet then, the tension of the mission slowly unraveling between the warmth of your palms, the beat of your shared breath.

You survived.

You said it.

He said it back

RAFAYEL

You don’t plan to say it.

It’s one of those things that lives in the back of your throat for days, maybe weeks—simmering just under the surface. But then he does something small and completely ridiculous: he tries to carry three canvases at once while holding a half-eaten croissant between his teeth, muttering about “creative vision” like the disaster he is.

And you love him. So much it hurts.

He doesn’t notice you watching him from the doorway until he drops one canvas, catches it mid-fall with a flourish, and turns to you like he meant to perform the whole mess.

“Did you see that?” he says, puffing out his chest like a cat that just knocked over an antique vase and wants praise for the sound it made.

You raise an eyebrow. “You almost decapitated yourself with a paintbrush.”

He gasps, placing a hand to his chest like you’ve wounded him. “How dare you. That was an elegant recovery. Graceful. Artistic, even.”

You bite your lip. Smile. Shake your head. And then you say it.

“I love you.”

The room stills.

Rafayel stops mid-stride, croissant still in hand, but now hanging uselessly by his side like he’s forgotten what it is.

His expression flickers through at least four emotions: surprise, awe, terror, and something dangerously close to tenderness. Then—

“Oh no,” he says, deadly serious. “No, no, no. You don’t get to just drop that on me like it’s nothing. I’m wearing my studio clothes. I’m not emotionally moisturized. My defenses are down.”

You blink. “I—what?”

“I had crumbs on my mouth,” he says dramatically, pointing to his lips. “Crumbs! That’s the first time you say it? When I look like a tragic, starving artist cliché?!”

He paces. Actually paces.

“I should’ve been leaning on a balcony,” he continues. “Maybe holding a rose. There should’ve been music. A sunset. Something cinematic!”

You just laugh.

“I mean it,” you say again, stepping toward him, heart in your throat. “Rafayel. I love you.”

He stops pacing.

And then — so softly you almost miss it — he says, “Say it one more time. Please.”

You do. You say it like it’s truth carved into stone. “I love you.”

He exhales. Slowly. Like your words knocked the air out of him and he's only just relearning how to breathe.

Then he tosses the croissant onto a table like it’s offended him and closes the space between you in two long steps. His hands cradle your face — warm, stained faintly with paint, trembling just slightly.

“You really mean it,” he murmurs, voice lower now. Raw.

“I do.”

He lets out a laugh that’s almost a sob. “Oh, you absolute menace. You realize I’m never going to be normal about this again, right? I’m going to be unbearable.”

You grin. “You already are.”

Rafayel grins back, something shining bright behind his eyes, and leans in until his lips brush yours.

“Good,” he whispers. “Then we’re perfectly matched.”

And when he kisses you, it’s every bit the drama he was begging for. Like the world’s ending. Like he’s waited lifetimes to earn the words you finally gave him.

SYLUS

The lights are low, casting a warm golden wash across the apartment. The city glows outside the window, stars blurring into neon — distant, quiet, irrelevant.

Inside, everything feels still.

Sylus leans back against the couch, legs stretched out, wine glass dangling lazily from his fingers. There’s a record playing softly in the background — something slow and smoky, a little old-fashioned. Fitting.

You’re curled up beside him, your feet tucked under his thigh, a half-empty bowl of popcorn between you. The movie playing is long forgotten. He’s watching you instead.

“You’re not paying attention,” you murmur, nudging him with your elbow.

He smirks without shame. “Why would I? I’ve got something far more interesting right here.”

You roll your eyes — but your heart skips, just like it always does when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the only thing in the world worth noticing.

“You’re impossible,” you say, smiling despite yourself.

“And yet you keep inviting me over. Strange.” He tilts his head, cocky and amused. “Maybe you’re the problem.”

You toss a kernel at his chest. He catches it midair — of course he does — and pops it into his mouth, smug as ever.

But then you fall quiet. The kind of silence that settles only when you feel safe. Known. Home.

Sylus must sense the shift, because he turns toward you more fully. “Kitten,” he says, softer now. “You okay?”

You nod, eyes on your lap. Then, without looking up, you speak.

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Gentle. Vulnerable. No grand theatrics. Just the truth, spoken like a heartbeat — small, steady, alive.

For once, Sylus doesn’t have a quip ready.

You look up, and his usual smirk has gone soft around the edges — like he’s not entirely sure he heard you right, or maybe like he did and it caught him off guard anyway.

“Oh?” he says after a beat, voice low, teasing — but his eyes say something else. Something tender. Wrecked, even.

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t start.”

He chuckles, and now the smirk returns — but it’s slower this time. Less about being smug and more about holding something sacred in his hands.

“I knew you did,” he says. “You’ve been looking at me like that for weeks.”

You laugh, half shy, half exasperated. “You knew?”

“I always know,” he says, leaning in closer, voice dropping to that husky whisper that always undoes you. “But hearing it… that’s something else.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing beneath your eye like he’s memorizing you in this moment. “Say it again.”

You breathe out, eyes never leaving his. “I love you.”

He kisses you then — not rough or rushed, not teasing. Just slow, deep, reverent. The kind of kiss that says, I’ve wanted this forever.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his voice is nothing but truth.

“I love you too,” he says, confident and sure. “I’ve been in love with you from the moment I first gazed upon you.”

You close your eyes, overwhelmed by how soft he is beneath all that sharpness. How lucky you are to be the one who gets to see it.

“Guess we’re both the problem,” you whisper

CALEB

Caleb’s lying on the floor, one leg propped up on the couch, surrounded by snack wrappers and a half-finished board game he insisted you two “absolutely had to master tonight.”

He’s telling some ridiculous story — something about a mission that ended with him accidentally setting off a glitter bomb in a debrief room. He’s laughing as he tells it, hands flying, eyes bright. You’ve heard him talk like this a hundred times, maybe more.

But something’s different tonight.

Maybe it’s the way he looked when he first walked in, face flushed from the cold, hoodie pulled over his messy hair. Maybe it’s the way his voice softened when he asked if you’d been sleeping enough, if you’d eaten. Maybe it’s the quiet underneath his laughter — like part of him is always reaching for light, even when it’s heavy.

Whatever it is, it’s sitting in your chest now. Heavy. Full.

You watch him laugh and think: I love you.

And then, before you can second-guess it, you say it out loud.

“I love you.”

The words drop into the room like a held breath finally released.

Caleb stops mid-sentence. He doesn’t freeze dramatically — doesn’t make a joke, or tease, or wiggle his eyebrows the way he usually does when you catch him off guard.

He just blinks up at you, surprised but... soft.

“You do?” he asks, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

You nod. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out. It just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

He sits up, slow. Not panicked. Just careful. Like he’s holding something fragile in his hands.

“You know,” he says, with a little smile, “I always thought if this moment happened, I’d turn it into a bit. Say something cheesy, maybe faint for dramatic effect.”

You laugh under your breath. “You still can.”

“Mm… nah,” he murmurs. “Not this time.”

He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His grin has faded into something deeper — the kind of expression he rarely lets anyone see. Not loud. Not showy. Just real.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while,” he says. “But I didn’t want to say it first. Not because I didn’t mean it — I do — but because I thought if you didn’t feel the same, it’d… ruin everything.”

Your breath catches.

“I love you too,” he says, and it’s not flashy or dramatic. It’s soft and steady and full of feeling. “So much it makes everything else feel kind of ridiculous.”

He laughs then — not because it’s funny, but because he doesn’t know what else to do with the weight of how much he means it.

You crawl over, sitting beside him on the floor, and he leans into your side immediately. Warm. Familiar. His fingers brush yours and stay.

“Hey,” he says, nudging you with his shoulder. “Wanna do something crazy?”

You glance at him, amused. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just thought I’d ask. But now that I’ve got you all flustered, I can say this instead—”

He turns to face you fully, eyes bright and earnest.

“Thank you,” he says. “For loving me first. That means more than I know how to say.”

You squeeze his hand. “You don’t have to. I already know.”

And somehow, sitting there in the mess of the evening, with half-eaten chips and game pieces between you, it feels like the most romantic thing in the world.

[abyssyby]

maybe a turtle

— Kyros thinks his papa is a ghost, but he's not afraid. Wherever Sylus runs, his son will always follow.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: it's kyros's turn!! sylus & kyros!! >0< just wanna say thank you so much for all the love and enthusiasm youve been showing the little twins. theyre so so fun to write about, and im glad there are people out there who enjoy reading about them too. i hope you enjoy this one! ❀-urs

important heads up for context of this story: kyros is (my headcanon) 1/2 of sylus's twin boys. also around 4 years in this one! ᡣ𐭩 read kyros's twin's chapter here ᡣ𐭩

sylus & kyros | sylus x reader | angst, fluff, comfort, sylus's son showing him that there will always be people missing him, dad!sylus, mom!reader

Kyros is scarily quiet. With everyone’s world so bustling and busy, he is often overlooked when he is just standing there. Walking so slowly, his footfalls were silent on tile and carpet. Each step is planted on the ground with care and patience.

Dark crimson eyes open for observing rather than knowing. Still trying to learn the earth beneath his feet and taking his sweet, mellow time with its wonders. 

In his world: his brother Lucian is a fluttering bird, always moving, above the ground, and looming larger than his size. Coming down to make sure to tell Kyros all he sees. 

His big brothers Kieran and Luke are music, loud and harmonious. Bounding around him when they play, moving him and carrying him like a melody. Making him feel an immense joy knowing they are around. 

His mama is apple juice, sweet and comforting. Arms ready to take him in her embrace and sprinkle kisses over his cheeks like the sparkling bubbles in his sippy cup. Kind eyes and a pretty smile, enough to calm big feelings in his little heart. Make him feel safe.

And his papa is a ghost. 

Papa’s presence is carefully threaded into the tapestry of his day. When his eyes open, Sylus is already there to lift him out of his crib for breakfast. When he waddles up to his papa’s bedroom or office door, without so much as a knock, Sylus is already opening it and lifting Kyros up in his embrace. When he’s out of the house— papa’s music plays in the study, papa’s food is in the fridge, papa’s scent is on the couch. 

But papa has been busier these past few days, leaving early in the morning, returning too late at night for Kyros to run up to him at the door anymore. Although Sylus never leaves without sneaking into his bedroom to say goodbye with a kiss on his pudgy cheek or his hair, Kyros just thinks he’s hiding somewhere he cannot reach. 

And each day, he feels that absence. 

For the past few days, he’s asked, “Mama, where papa goes?” 

And mama says the same thing, “On a mission, angel.” 

So he pads over to the couch, on papa’s spot and waits. He wanders by his dizzy-spinning-CD’s and listens to his music. He nibbles on the cookies and crumbs he left in the meantime. Until he comes back. Until Kyros can find him again. 

Papa is a ghost and Kyros is constantly trying to catch him. 

But Sylus isn’t running away. So when he is caught, he submits to the whims of his little hunter.

“Got you.” Sylus startles at the voice. It was too late in the night for anyone in his family to be up still on a quiet weekend. He’d just gotten home from a mission across cities, ones that left his neck with a crick and his head aching with the incompetence of the people he was with. 

So it was a surprise to find Kyros out of the blue, in the dead of night, waddling into the study. Soon, he is climbing up on Sylus’s lap, slowly grabbing a crease in his shirt, hauling his body up the legs, and wriggling to right himself to sit upright. Wedging himself between his papa and his papa’s work. 

“Hello, Kyros.” Sylus says, lips already drawn to his head in a tender kiss. “‘Got’ me?” 

Kyros clasps his hands together, clapping like he was catching a bug. “Like dis.” 

“Mm.” Sylus pushes away from the desk and curls his arms around his son’s body, unconsciously drawing him against his belly. “Papa is a mosquito?” 

Kyros smiles a little, releases a breezy little giggle like wind chimes on a warm summer day. “No. Papa not mosquito.” 

Sylus’s heart flutters at the sound. “Then why did you catch me—“ he imitates the catching with one large hand. “—like this?” 

Kyros lingers on the metaphor a little longer. Watching his own hands open and close, distracted by how they move. Sylus notices and imitates the movement with him while he waits for a response. 

Finally, it comes when Sylus closes his hand around Kyros’s little fingers, drawing him back to the conversation. “Gotcha.” 

Kyros laughs again, prying large fingers off his hand and then patting them. Sylus asks again, wriggling his fingers over his happy, squeezed-crescent eyes. “Why did you catch me, angel?” 

Kyros catches his hand and hugs it to his chest. His tone is patient, like how you would explain how soup is meant to be cooled down before you slurp, but with the hint of you should know obviousness. “Is i’cause you quick, papa.”

“I’m quick.” Sylus nods, affirming his ideas. “Papa has long legs.” 

“I haves tiny-tiny legs.” Kyros runs with the thought. “And i’cause Kyros is slow.”

Sylus’s lips quirk. “Slow? My Kyros?” 

“A-huh. Like turtle.” he’s moving again, small hands petting against Sylus’s chest, head bobbing side to side to imitate a turtle’s scooting on the sand. 

“I see.” Sylus has seen you read the boys that book before bedtime. Lucian asked all the questions and acted out all the running. Kyros always just sat there and blinked like he was downloading your voice. “And is papa the hare?” 

He thinks a little, looking up at Sylus like he was picturing him with big ears and buck teeth. He shakes his head at the image. “No, papa is papa.”

“Ah,” Sylus tilts his head, considering. “I mean, is papa like the hare? Fast?” 

Kyros nods then, getting the semantics now. “Papa like’a hare. And— and like a horse. And a race car. And flyin' ‘Pisto.” 

Sylus chuckles something sincere, finds rest in his son’s voice listing the many fast things he is like. His presence was a calm rush of fresh water over his aching bones. It doesn’t even cross his mind that he snuck out of his bedroom past his bedtime. He just listens, breathes him in, grateful. For being a tether to follow back home from being someone other than papa. 

He’s here, he promises, he’s listening. Despite the way his arms begin to slacken around Kyros’s body. Despite the way his eyes droop slowly, and the voice he listens to sounds like it’s wandering further down a tunnel he cannot see the end to. Slowly being engulfed by the crackling fire in its hearth. He takes a deep breath, he’s listening… so close to sleep— 

“… and leave Kyros behind.” Ice runs through his veins. 

Bleary eyed, but alert, he blinks at Kyros in confusion. “What… what was that, Kyros?” 

Kyros is already staring up when he peers down. There’s a look on his face that resembles when he is about to get in trouble. He’d heard the tone of Sylus’s voice, and if his children are anything they are incredibly perceptive. 

So Sylus breathes, meets him where he was and tries again. “You think papa leaves you behind?” 

The look of guilt on Kyros’s face remains as he nods. He doesn’t know just why he feels bad for telling Sylus the truth, only feels that something has changed. The quiet isn’t so warm anymore, and papa is taking careful breathing breaths like he does when he’s a little scared. 

And Sylus slips, fall headfirst down a mudslide of his own painful thoughts. Suddenly, every moment with Kyros leading up to now is a focal point— why did he stay awake until he got back? why would he say these things if he did not feel it so strongly? why would he look so sad, so betrayed at the thought if it weren’t true? 

And the truth— Sylus is so used to being a shadow if not the wind, of smoke and feathers, of disappearing without notice, of leaving no crumbs to follow. Of being alone. 

Even after all these years, he still fails to remember that he is no longer who he was. No longer a beast in isolation, no longer a monster that is feared. 

Now, he is a partner, a father. And the people who look for him aren’t always trying to kill him. And the people who witness his absence do not celebrate it, but miss his presence. 

The people who need him now need him not for his wealth or his power or his influence— they just need him. To be present, to be loving, to be here.

And now he knows, he is told, that he might be failing at that too. He opens his mouth to speak— apologize, explain, fix, something—but Kyros beats him to it. 

“Papa,” Kyros says carefully. He’s sensed the turmoil. The way papa, again, has disappeared despite being here in front of him. He rises to his knees, reaching up to plant his hands on Sylus’s cheeks— just as mama does— and ushers him back. “Papa, wait for me.” 

Sylus is thrown another blow to the gut. Another world-shattering glimpse into the true meaning of his son’s presence here now.

Sylus doesn’t just disappear physically. He runs, sprints, shoots off emotionally too. Leaving his family for the tide of shame that consumes him. Leaving his son to wonder what he said wrong that made him drift away once more. 

“Kyros…” he swallows, voice so soft it breaks at the edges. Chooses words carefully. His large hands come up to cradle soft cheeks back as he whispers, “Papa is here. I’m here, angel.” 

Kyros’s face brightens at the touch. The way Sylus squeezes his face fondly. “Hi, papa.” 

His poor heart shatters. His eyes prickle and his nose burns. He overturns all the memories and things he's done in his life to deserve this— and helplessly finds nothing. And yet, here he is. He rasps, “Hello, Kyros.” 

“Papa waiting?”

“Papa waiting.” 

“Papa wait and—and Kyros catch.” Kyros pats his hands gently on Sylus’s cheeks this time, literally catching father’s rough edges in his soft, tiny palms. Unknowingly catching his unwinding sanity, his breaking heart, and his fraying soul too. 

It floors him, drives him into the ground in a harsh wreck. How once he held Kyros’s newborn frame in a cradle of his two hands. And now, somehow, Kyros holds the entire weight of him. 

And to Kyros, it feels like he weighs nothing at all. 

Sylus watches fondly. His son, with his eyes and his hair, but your determined expression. Your patience. Your understanding. Your forgiveness. Your love.

This gift, you’ve carefully poured into this boy, who now generously douses him with it. 

“Kyros will always catch papa?” his voice shakes when he asks, deft fingers brushing messy hair away from sparkling eyes. A hope. A wish. 

Kyros takes a while to answer questions only because he likes the thinking part of it all, but for this one, he answers immediately. “Yes. I good at it.” 

His eyes close and his breath returns to him. He bows his head in his hold; a dragon succumbing to his hunter. He agrees. 

Kyros is always looking enough to see, smart enough to notice, patient enough to understand, and slow— devastatingly and achingly slow enough for Sylus to realize and do the same, to feel the same. To be pulled into his orbit as a planet to the slow burning sun. 

The lump in his throat melts and trickles away. Feels a wound once poorly stitched—reopened, disinfected and bound together again with better trappings by smaller, gentler hands. 

Of which their owner is trusting because he knows nothing else. And his son proves time and time again that his failures in this life and the last or any other life before, does not equate to the man they see now. Does not carry over to his papa. 

Kyros asks for nothing, but for him to wait. To be caught. To slow down. To stay.

The tears fall before he even takes notice. He doesn’t pull away or hide. He practices what he is asked for. He keeps still, and tilts his forehead to make contact with his son’s. “Thank you, Kyros.”

Kyros presses back, unsure why papa is crying, but happy with his touch. His presence. Clumsy fingers wipe away salty tears, which Sylus’s lips chase with kisses. “You welcome, papa.” 

He vows then, in the tranquil bubble his son has created for them, that he even when he cannot figure out what he did to deserve him, he will be what he deserves. A ghost that can be caught. A hare that celebrates the turtle’s wins. 

“What can papa do for you, my turtle?” he scoops the little boy up by the armpits and lets him rest on the crook of his elbow. 

Kyros presses his nose to Sylus’s jaw and hums. An all too familiar action again from a bigger, more motherly source. “Apple juice, pease?”

“Before bedtime?” Sylus asks, voice lilting in amusement. Though he’s already pushing his chair back and standing, with every intention to deliver. 

Kyros blinks back, eyes mirthful and sparkling. Sylus’s chest caves, he is brought to his knees at the sight. His fingers come up to pinch full cheeks, having a mind of their own.

“Ma bub, pease?” Sylus laughs, loud and resonant, at your tactics of persuasion making their way to your children now. My love’s lips press adoring kisses to his temple. 

Kyros wounds his short arms around Sylus’s neck, giggling like he knows he is his powerful and untouchable father’s weakness. Ever grateful for his presence, a too big feeling for his too little body to make sense of for now. But it is there. 

The halls echo the sound of humming, deep and rusty— a practiced lullaby whose notes are bent and twisted, but perfectly aligned to the little ears that listen.

And Sylus walks slowly, his footfalls muted against the tile and carpet. Memorizing the current weight of his too-quickly growing baby against his chest, the warmth of his breath against his collar and the tenderness of his embrace. Ceaselessly chasing these moments so as not to miss a single one. Remembering to be still once he is there.

He clings just as much as Kyros does to this love— gentle, quiet, here— if not more.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“Hate ‘ishuns!” Kyros’s voice pulls you from the trenches of sleep. You make a tired, inquisitive sound like you were simply lost in the conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Shh,” he is scolded. For a moment there is quiet again, and just the static in the air, and so you start to drift once more.

“No more ‘ishuns, papa,” Kyros harrumphs and now you open your eyes to the dim light. Beside you, Sylus is seated up against the headboard with Kyros on his stomach— both wide eyed and guilty.

You release a deep breath. “Apple juice, Sylus?”

Sylus winces at your tone. “He said ‘my love’.”

“and pease.” Kyros adds.

“We’ll go, sweetie,” Sylus offers, moving to scoot off the bed, bring their little late night conversation elsewhere.

He plants a kiss to your forehead, and so does Kyros. But neither gets far, for despite your sleep laden haze, your grip is strong on Sylus’s arm. “No. Stay.”

Kyros clears his throat.

You sigh fondly. “Please.”

And so they do.

✧˚ ⋆｡ prev: maybe a dragon (lucian) || read more with the little twins here || more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

thank you for reading!

[iiiiiiis-things]

idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

[moonstruckme]

Hi!

I just watched 'me before you' (so sad wtf)

Anyways the one scene with the bumblebee tights? I can't stop thinking about it and was wondering if you could write something with whimsical!reader and the marauders (individual or poly) inspired by that?

Oh that is the cutest little storyline! Thanks for the request angel <3

cw: reader has hair long enough to have a clip in, but the hair itself isn't described

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 1k words

James grins at the blue vervain hung above your front door before he knocks three times, hiding the small gift bag behind his back. You open with an easy smile on your face. It widens once you see him. 

“James,” you say, voice a pleased hum. “I thought we already went on our date?” 

“We did,” James agrees, “yesterday, but…” he digs in his pocket “...I think you left this in my car.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes widen delightedly at the large acorn he holds out in his palm. “I did! I was going to call and tell you, but I thought surely by this morning it would be gone.” 

James feels his eyebrows bunch even as he smiles. “Where would it have gone, lovely?” 

“Well, it’s a very nice acorn, so I thought for certain faeries would pluck it up if I left it unattended. I wouldn’t have blamed them, it’s only fair.” 

James doesn’t see anything particularly remarkable about the acorn—aside from it being rather large—but you often see beauty in stuff that James doesn’t. It’s one of the things he loves about you. He’s learned that you collect these sorts of things the way other people might collect postage stamps; it’s not for him to question. 

“I’m glad it was still there, though,” you say, pushing up on your toes to give him a kiss that, in James’ opinion, is far too brief. “Thank you for keeping it safe.” 

“It was no problem.” He leans forward for another kiss, but you’re already turning, disappearing into your home. 

He follows you inside, though you haven’t invited him in—sometimes these things simply don’t seem to occur to you; James is learning to interpret your cues. 

“You look lovely today,” he says. 

You send him a curious look. “You always say that.” 

“It’s always true.” 

“It can’t be the same amount of true every time,” you say, finding a place for your acorn on the windowsill above your kitchen sink. You’ve a small collection of things there, from propagated plants to dead bugs to little origami stars. 

“Can’t it?” James asks. 

“My hair never looks exactly the same,” you point out, not arguing so much as musing in the way you’re given to, “and last week when you saw me I didn’t have any spots, but today I have two.” 

James captures you in a gentle embrace, his hand on your cheek. “You’re just as lovely,” he vows, kissing you, “every single time.” 

Your eyes have gone soft and cloudy; you’re easily mollified. “If you say so.” 

“I do.” He kisses you again, smiling. “I have something for you.” 

“Mm, for me?” 

“Who else?” He reveals the gift bag. The tips of his fingers are buzzing with excitement. “Open it.” 

You take the bag, appearing bemused. “It’s not my birthday.” 

“I know that.” 

“Is it a holiday?” 

“No.” 

You look at James, still not opening the bag. “What’s this for, then?” 

“Maybe I just like to give you things,” he says. “It made me think of you.” 

“Oh.” You relax, the mystery resolved. “Because you’re nice.” 

“Sure. Would you just open it, please?” 

“Okay.” You give James a puzzled sort of smile, but part the folds of the bag. “Oh.” Your voice softens as you look inside. “Oh, James, this is lovely.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly nervous as you draw it out. Up until just this moment, he’d felt nothing but confidence that you would love it, but now he’s unsure. “Do you like it?” 

“Yes.” You turn over the barrette in your hand, expression awed. It’s a dragonfly, larger than life and incredibly detailed, with wings an iridescent green color that shimmer in the light coming in through your kitchen window. “It goes in my hair?” 

“Yeah, but there’s a trick to making it work.” James leans closer, giddy. “Can I show you?” 

You nod mutely, and he leans over, blowing gently on the gift. 

In the palm of your hand, the dragonfly comes to life. You gasp as its wings shift and flutter, the colors becoming even more vibrant. If you look really closely, even its tail is moving, the only still part of it the legs so that they stay fixed in your hair while you’re wearing it. It took a nifty bit of charmwork to achieve that amount of specificity. 

Your eyes are alight with wonder. It’s the sweetest thing James has ever seen, and he knows—if the ministry cracks down on him, if he’s never allowed to practice magic again—he knows he’s done the best thing. 

“It’s beautiful,” you say, softly, as though afraid to scare the creature. “Where did you find this?” 

“Just—at a market.” James tries to sound casual. “It was a pop-up, I think. Cool that they make them like this, yeah?” 

You make a sound of agreement, eyes still on the dragonfly as it begins to settle down. “It’s like magic.” 

James leans over to kiss your forehead. “Want me to put it on for you?” 

Your expression lights up as though the possibility hadn’t yet occurred to you. “Could you? Please?” 

“Of course, lovely. Give it here.” 

You transfer the barrette to James’ hand delicately. He smiles at how preciously you treat it, turning you by your shoulder to fix it in the back of your head. Once he gets it situated—James really isn’t very experienced at styling hair—he draws you into the bathroom so you can approve. 

“Can you blow on it?” you ask when he holds up a mirror for you to see the back of your head, barely leashed excitement in your tone. 

James does, and you make the most elated sound he’s ever heard from you. He laughs as you turn to put your arms around him, his soft-spoken, placid girl nearly jumping with glee. 

“Thank you,” you say, pressing your lips to his. “Thank you, James. No one’s ever gotten me anything so thoughtful.” 

James reckons he has a thing or two left to do about that.

[20cubesun]

winning a fancall as their partner ᵔᴗᵔ

pairing - ot7 x gn!reader

genre - fluff

warnings - minor language (very minor) !

Jungwon

doesn't realize at first

does his rehearsed greeting, then is like, "??????"

"Y/n??"

lets out a sigh of relief and has a big smile

"You won't believe the fan call I just had... Some people.."

Jungwon vents his frustrations with people making him aegyo and meow

"Hey Wonnie?"

"Yes, Y/n?"

"Can you meow for me?"

Jungwon sits in silence for the rest of the call, arms crossed, and giving you a blank look.

When he sees you after, he continues to give the silent treatment until you offer to scratch his back

"Y/n, please don't ever do that again.."

Heeseung

ALSO doesn't realize right away

you both just kinda sit there like "😐"

then Heeseung goes "😮"

"Y/n! I didn't know you won a fan call! Why didn't you tell me?"

pretends to sulk, but is refreshed seeing you between all the other calls

"Don't be mad, I just wanted to surprise you!" You watch Heeseung start to laugh a little

"Well it worked! I love seeing all of ENGENE, but this is refreshing.. And this chair is really uncomfortable.."

"Well it's not like I'm a random ENGENE, stretch your legs while you can, Hee."

Immediately gets up and starts to stretch.

"See, this is why I love you so much Y/n."

You laugh as you see only his legs in view

He sits back down with a grin

"I'll see you later Y/n, thanks for letting me take a little break."

Jay

realizes its you and plans to tease you

"Oh my god." Jay says with a slight smile

"Surprise!" You let out little jazz hands

Pretends to not care, but secretly has butterflies

"Yeah yeah, whatever... How do I skip you?" Jay pretends to signal staff over

"Hey! Don't you dare! I won this fair and square!"

Jay laughs and blows into the mic

"Hey I thi- pshhhhhhhh this call is- psshhhhhhhh breaking up"

"You're so annoying, Jay. Im an ENGENE too you know, where's my dedicated three minutes?"

Jay laughs and settles in his chair, "Fine, I guess you're right, what do you want to talk about?"

"Actually I'm glad you asked, do you remember where I put my-"

"Hate to cut you off sweetheart, but times up." Jay laughs and sends an air kiss.

"That.. Brat!" You scowl, but end up only being able to laugh about it.

You jokingly complain about it when Jay sees you later that night

"Y/n, how about I go get you some snacks? Will that make you feel better?"

You nod, because how can that not help?

Jake

Immediately perks up. "Y/n?!"

You play dumb.. "Uh.. No that's not my name."

Jake looks confused for a second before doubling down. "Y/n, I know it's you. I literally see your posters in the back."

"Crap.." You mutter under your breath, letting out a nervous smile.

"Y/n, I didn't know you won a fan call? Were you trying to prank me? Next time I'll pretend to fall for it!"

Your heart swells, Jakes just too cute.

"Aaaghh, you make it really hard to stay in character you know. I had a whole plan set up."

Jake laughs, "Here, let's pretend like I did fall for it. Go on, do your prank."

You nod and show Jake a crude, not very well drawn photo of him. "I made this for you, cause you're my bias, Jake oppa!" You did a cringey aegyo after

"Never mind, please never do that again Y/n."

you head over to Jakes dorm, having a better prank in mind

You wait on his bed and run into his closet when you hear the boys get home.

"What the hell is this? Y/n?"

You pop out of the closet, seeing Jake staring at the fake body you made with pillows, only for the face to be your drawing

"PRANKED!!"

Sunghoon

pretends like he doesn't realize

"Hel- Oh wow. Usually I'm not supposed to say this, but you're the most attractive person I've ever seen.."

You do a mental facepalm

"Sunghoon, it's me, Y/n."

"Y/n? That's a beautiful name.. Here, let me write down my number and text me after this."

Sunghoon scribbles down his number and puts it up to the camera

"Stop playing dumb, hoonie! I was supposed to surprise you!"

"Ahh, playing hard to get? That's okay Y/n, I'm more than happy to fight for it."

"Hoon, why don't you ever flirt with me like this when we're together?"

"If I knew you, I definitely would Y/n."

Wait for him to finish his fancalls, then call him

"Oh hey babe, I saw the most beautiful ENGENE during the fan calls today..."

"Sunghoon, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you."

Sunoo

Immediately decomposes himself and lays on the table

"Y/n... its brutal out here..."

You let out a little chuckle, "What happened this time, Sun?"

Sunoo peeks up. "I have to pee, it's too hot in this room, my hair isn't cooperating, and we still have a bunch of fan calls left to do... I don't know if I can make it."

"Do it for ENGENE Sun, lots of them are looking forward to this.

Sunoo sits back up and nods.

"You're right Y/n, and they're all so nice! One of them showed me this picture they drew.. It looked exactly like me, just more handsome!"

You smile, letting Sunoo talk about all the ENGENE he met today.

"You feel better, Sun?"

"Yes, just what I needed."

A hour later Sunoo sends you a text.

"Thanks for the pick me up Y/n! I picked up some ice cream and I'm on my way over : )"

Ni-Ki

Notices its you before you even realize the call connected

Ni-Ki lets out a fake sigh. "Oh great.. It's you."

You cross your arms, used to Ni-Ki's teasing by now. "And what is that supposed to mean, Riki?"

He grins and sits back. "All I'm saying is you already take up my free time, you should share some with ENGENE."

You scoff and act hurt. "I'll have you know I won this spot buying albums. Actually- buying ENGENE versions trying to get YOURS Riki."

Ni-Ki shoots his hands up in defense. "I offered to give you one, don't pin this on me!"

You roll your eyes playfully. "If you gave me one it wouldn't count towards Billboard! I was being a supportive partner!"

Ni-Ki laughs, admitting defeat. "Alright you got me, but only because we don't have much time."

"Sounds like an excuse, but I'll take my win."

"Good decision Y/n, you don't win often!" Ni-Ki laughs

"Oh you're so dead when you get home."

You wait in Riki's dorm room, hearing his steps grow closer

You jump on him as he walks in

"Ack- What the- Y/n?"

"I told you earlier! Your dead meat Riki!"

[luveline]

would you ever write a ditsy!reader with sirius? where he's grumpy and she's just giggly and makes him feel a little less grumpy? I love you and your writing sending kisses <3

I love you

Fuck’s sake. Sirius glares at the TV. Fuck off. 

“What’s it say?” you call from the kitchen. 

“It’s raining all weekend.” 

“No way, really?” You appear with a tea towel in your hands, wiping your fingers dry one at a time. “Shit, sorry, baby. I guess we better get out our rain ponchos.” 

Sirius loves concerts, but he hates shitty weather. “What if they cancel?” 

“I don’t think they’ll cancel.” You put the tea towel on the coffee table and gesture for him to do something. What it is you want is unclear, but Sirius leans back, and, as usual, you make yourself at home in his lap. Gentle but not shy. “We might get a bit muddy, is all.” 

You rest your ribs half on his chest and half against the sofa. This close, he can confess to finding you the kind of beautiful that makes his jaw ache. Being around you is like a constant re-realisation that you’re his amazing girl, his one good love, as he likes to put it. Romance has never felt more real to him than when he’s with you, slipping his arm behind your back, and letting your nose at his jawline. Then the man on TV says the area is at risk of thunder and lightning on Saturday and he forgets to be in love. 

“Fucking hell,” he complains, clinging to you as though you have the power to change what the weatherman has to say. 

“It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking,” you sing-song back. 

“No, we’ll be turned to husks when we’re struck by lightning, but I’m sure it’ll be great.” 

“So negative,” you murmur, drawing along his collar. 

“I’m being realistic, lovely, our weekend is completely ruined.” 

“That’s not true, is it? Your weekend is ruined. Mine is the same as it was, because I don’t care if it rains on Metallica, I just want to spend time with you.” 

“You’re such a dick,” he says through a soft laugh. 

“Why? Because I am clearly the more loving partner?” you tease. 

“Yes. Because I don’t care about you at all, I only care about the concert, and spending time with you means nothing to me.” 

“Oh, well when you put it like that,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss his neck softly. Short presses of your lips with the faintest of sounds, then you're giggling. He’s glad you can’t see his face. You’d run with the honeyed smile he wears now. He would never hear the end of it. 

“I’ll have to find your anorak,” he says, rubbing a loving path down your back. 

“We’ll get the thermals out of the attic. Don’t worry, baby, the rain won’t ruin all your fun.” You kiss him again, and laugh like you’ve made a joke he isn’t privy to. 

“What’s funny?” he asks. 

“I just love you when you’re mad.” 

“I’m not mad.” 

“Aggrieved, then.” You lift your face only to hold his and press your nose to his cheek. You move your face back and forth, like a hurried nuzzling. “You’re such a downer.” 

“Stop it.” 

“Make me,” you say through giggles. 

He closes his eyes and turns in for a proper kiss. 

[em1989ts]

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞

robert "bob" reynolds x reader

word count: 1.3k - masterlist

summary: when bob comes to your door late at night, you find a way to comfort him and let him know he's appreciated

contents: artist! reader, fluff, cuddling, bob's depression

author's note: a fic about someone other than five hargreeves? from me? shocking!! but i am so in love with bob rn i've seen thunderbolts twice in theatres already and i cannot get enough of him - not proofread! pleaseeee send bob requests in my inbox 🙃

Late nights were always the best in the new Avengers tower. 

The hallways were incredibly quiet, with everyone residing in their own personal spaces until morning when the team would return to their mission planning and let their snarky comments loose on each other. 

It had been a long time since you lived in New York City. After spending years on the run, then flying around the globe completing missions for Valentina, you were glad to finally have a stable home again. 

Your room was dim, lit solely by a few candles on your nightstand as you lay against your headboard, with your sketchbook and pencil unmoving in your hands as you were undecided on what to draw, yet you held the urge to create. You often did at this hour, when all else is silent, your mind tends to get creative. 

As you tapped the end of your pencil against your page, brainstorming while staring at the bright nighttime lights of Manhattan through your large window, you heard noises that didn’t match up to the taps of your eraser. 

When you paused, holding still to listen, you heard the sound of footsteps, pacing back and forth outside your door. Setting your pencil between the pages of your sketchbook, you gently laid it on the bed next to you as you quietly climbed off the mattress. 

As you peeked slightly under the door, you could see the footsteps. The owner of the socked feet was ambiguous, but you had a strong feeling you knew who it was. 

You tip-toed over and gently opened the door, watching the culprit freeze in his place. 

Bob stood there, with a look of surprise on his face. His dark blue eyes wide as his brown hair framed his face. He hadn’t expected you to be up at this hour, let alone catch him standing outside your door. 

He was wearing a black crewneck and plaid sweatpants, the same outfit you’d seen him in for the last three days. His face was flush and his brain was still thoughtless as he stared into your soul. 

“Hi Bob,” you calmly greeted, noticing his tense shoulders, “You okay?” 

“Yeah- yeah I’m fine, just um-” his body regained motion as he fidgeted with his fingers, the sleeves of his crew neck pulled over the palms of his hands, “I uh - didn’t expect you to be up this late.” 

“I’m always up this late,” you smiled at him, “Come in, come in.” 

You motioned for him to come inside as you returned to your spot on top of your comforter, picking up your sketchbook, your pencil moving with a mind of its own. 

He shyly walked in, shutting the door behind him. He had never been in your bedroom before, and he couldn’t help but take a moment to observe it. It was like a museum of your entire personality in one room, with evidence of your many hobbies and interests- books, movies, cds, art supplies - covering every inch of your living space. 

Looking up for your initial sketch, you watched as he slowly moved his gaze across your room, tugging his sleeves and absentmindedly smilingly. 

Since you’ve met him, you’ve wanted to connect more with Bob. The two of you had become friends now that you’ve been living together for a little while, but he was still a little shy around you. 

“So what’s up, Bob?” you asked, returning your attention to your drawing, “Couldn’t sleep?” 

He kept looking around as he answered, “I did for a little bit, but I uh- had a nightmare and just, you know.” 

You all had nightmares. Every few nights you heard at least one of your teammates screaming through the walls of the tower. Bob’s nightmares were rather frequent, unfortunately. 

He sat down on the edge of your bed, rubbing his socks along your carpeted floors, creating a static charge, as he stared down at his hands. 

“Same thing?” you asked. He nodded. 

Ever since the day the void took over New York, he had felt so guilty, so sorry for everything he had caused. It haunted his dreams as he closed his eyes, willingly entrapping himself in darkness. Trapping himself with the void. 

The team was always there to reassure him that they were there for him, and that he wasn’t alone. But sometimes he felt they were only saying that so he wouldn’t destroy the world with his new god-like powers. Not that he wanted to, he just wanted to help people, and maybe help himself along the way, but it would take a lot of patience and practice before he was ready for missions. 

On one of your first nights in the tower, you had been walking by his room on your way to the kitchen for a midnight snack when you’d heard him, frantically gasping and trying to catch his breath. That was the night you’d reassured him that he could always come to you to talk about whatever he needed. That offer stuck as the two of you talked more and more, and he slowly grew more comfortable with you. 

“It’s just,” he paused, not knowing how to start, “I just think I’m more trouble than I’m worth.” 

You looked up, about to protest before he continued. 

“I stay around the tower, barely leaving my room, barely contributing anything while your guys go save lives and fight bad guys and whatever else Avengers do.” 

“That’s not true, Bob,” you disagreed, “You might not think we notice, but we really appreciate everything you do. I don’t think any of us know how to wash a dish without chucking it at someone,” you laughed slightly, lightening the mood. 

“And we don’t just keep you around because we think you’ll be good enough for the team one day,” you explained, “You mean a lot to us.” 

His dark blue eyes shone with a ray of golden as he looked over at you, emotion behind his eyes as your words hit his heart, “Really?” 

“Of course,” you smiled, adding a few finishing touches in your sketchbook  before setting your pencil down on your nightstand. You sat up next to Bob, his shoulder brushing yours, as you handed him your sketchbook to show him the page you’d been working on ever since he’d stepped foot through your door. 

The sketch of him exhibiting a shy smile in such perfect detail made him tear up a bit. He couldn’t believe someone could pay such close attention to him, take such great care in the accuracy of his image, and picture him in such delight. 

He bashfully chuckled as he admired the sketch before turning back to you, “You’re really talented, this looks great,” he complimented. 

“Maybe it’s you that looks great,” you quipped in return, causing his face to flush as he looked back at the drawing. 

A yawn escaped your lips as you looked out the window once more, seeing the dark night sky becoming an increasingly lighter blue. 

“It’s probably time to sleep,” you said, moving under your comforter as you extended an invitation, “You’re welcome to stay if you want.”   

He smiled, closing your sketchbook and placing it on your night stand, making sure to blow out your candles before climbing in next to you. 

He hadn’t felt too tired since waking up from his nightmare, but curling up next to you, feeling your arms wrap around his back as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, allowed him to feel just at peace enough where he could close his eyes, and feel safe in the darkness that surrounded him.

~~~

thank you for reading!

[saltcxrcle]

medicine ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: persuading sam to go out to the bar with you was easy, but it's not like he needed much convincing when it came to you.

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem!readerノ wc: 3.3k warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', smut, porn with no plot, feat. sam munchester!, dry humping, oral f&m receiving!, 69ing, finger sucking, protected p in v, riding, praise, aftercare, fluff, loverboy sam!, is titled and loosely based on the unreleased song by harry styles, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: you guys voted for this, so you shall receive the smut you freaks! jk love you guys and i had so much fun writing this hehe (can you tell i have a thing for his forearms lol). also would highly recommend you guys listen to the song either before or during this fic but enjoy <33 sam winchester masterlist

SAM WAS SO GLAD YOU HAD YOUR OWN ROOM. 

He pushed you hard against the door, lips attached to yours as his hands found purchase on your ass. Sam smiled against your lips as you let out a slight squeal at the feeling of him squeezing and massaging your ass through your jeans. 

You ran your hands up his chest, leaving one on his shoulder as the other one clutched at the back of his head. Your fingers ran through his silky smooth hair before tugging at the strands. He let out a low groan as his hips involuntarily jerked against you. 

You tugged at the strands again, making his lips detach from yours with a small ‘pop,’ a strand of saliva being the only thing connecting the two of you. 

You smiled at the slightly dazed look that Sam had on his face. “We should probably get inside. Unless you want to give everyone a free show.” You joked. 

“Right, yeah we should.” Sam nodded, seeming to remember the two of you were outside of your room. 

Sam let you turn around in his arms, hands resting on your hips—his breath ghosting over your cheeks as his face moved to bury itself in your neck. You could barely open the door, distracted by the soft kisses Sam was placing along the sensitive areas of your neck. 

Sam smiled into your neck at the sight of you fumbling with the lock. He was glad that you managed to rope him into coming out with you and Dean tonight. But it’s not like he needed much convincing from you—he always found himself wanting to be around you, and this was no different. 

Dean took no time finding someone to chat up and eventually go home with tonight, leaving you and Sam to your own devices. After having a few drinks, he felt loose and relaxed for once. Sam enjoyed being around you and loved that he had your undivided attention. You didn’t drink often, but you enjoyed a cocktail or two when you were out with the brothers after a successful hunt. 

You had about two, almost three Dirty Shirleys tonight, the vodka hitting you slightly, but the buzz you were feeling got canceled out with the fries you and Sam had ordered to share. The cherry that was floating at the top of your drink was resting against the ice in your nearly empty drink. 

“Can I have that?” Sam asked from beside you, pointing to the cherry in your drink.

“Sure.” You plucked it from your glass and held it out to Sam, thinking he was going to grab it from your hand. 

Sam was feeling bold, the alcohol bolstering his confidence. His intense gaze never left your eyes as he ducked his head down and grabbed the cherry from your hand with his mouth—his lips wrapping around your fingertips, drawing the fruit into his mouth. 

Your mouth fell open slightly as the tension between the two of you grew exponentially—his eyes fluttered, letting the tartness of the cherry coat his tongue. You couldn’t help how your cunt clenched around nothing as you saw Sam’s jaw move as he chewed on the cherry slowly. You had to look away from Sam, your cheeks filled with heat as a spark of desire ignited in your lower belly. 

It didn’t help that the low lighting of the bar seemed to cloak Sam’s sharp features but made his hazel eyes practically glow in the dim lights. 

Sam couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction. “You okay?” He ducked down and asked quietly in your ear. 

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat, trying to mask the shiver that went down your spine at the low rumble of his voice. “Just peachy.” 

Sam chuckled quietly. He rested his hand on your thigh. “Did you want to head back?” 

The two of you quickly left after he posed the question, his hand on the small of your back leading you out of the bar. Luckily, the motel the three of you were staying at was within walking distance of the bar, so it didn’t take long for the two of you to make it back. 

Once you arrived at your room and before you were going to ask Sam if he wanted a nightcap, his question threw you off completely. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You stared at him before quickly replying. “Yes.” 

It didn’t take long for Sam to pin you to your door once you got it open, and the two of you made your way inside. Your hands immediately found their place in his hair as his lips moved against yours. You couldn’t help but softly moan at the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours—being able to taste the cherry he had eaten only moments ago with the faint hint of whiskey that he had been sipping on earlier. 

Sam swallowed your moan as he kissed you. His hands roamed over your body before finding the back of your thighs. He quickly lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist without any hesitation. Sam walked the two of you to one of the beds in your room before sitting on it with you in his lap. 

You couldn’t help but grind against his denim-covered bulge, making him groan against your lips. His hands landed on your hips to aid you in your movement. 

Your lips finally detached from his as soft moans left your lips. Sam’s lips found your neck again, biting and sucking at the skin as you continued to grind against him, sparks of pleasure zipping through you as your clit rubbed against your underwear. 

Sam’s lips eventually left your neck, and he made quick work of your shirt—almost ripping it from how recklessly he pulled it off of you. You all but clawed at the brown button-up he was wearing. It was unfair how well this color suited him. He had the sleeves rolled up to his forearms—and you were salivating at the sight of them all night. 

The two of you stared at each other when your shirts were discarded. 

“You’re beautiful.” Sam murmured as his hands traced up and down your back as he gazed up at you, his hazel eyes filled with reverence and desire. 

“Could say the same thing about you.” You replied as your hands landed on his broad shoulders. 

Sam’s cheeks flushed red at your earnestness. He leaned in and kissed you softly, making your head spin from how different this kiss was compared to the passionate and lust-fueled ones from earlier. You couldn’t help but pour your feelings into this kiss as Sam did the same. 

You eventually pulled away from his lips, giggling when his lips chased after yours. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sound, his heart filling with warmth. 

You reached behind you to unclip your bra, letting it fall off your chest and throwing it somewhere behind you. Sam leaned in and kissed your neck, his lips trailing down the soft skin of your chest. A soft moan left your lips as you felt his lips wrap around one of your nipples—the unoccupied breast being held in his other hand, squeezing and kneading at it. 

“Fuck Sammy.” Your words came out breathy as your hands tugged at his hair. 

A groan came from deep in his chest. His mouth left your breast as his lips landed on yours again. Sam’s hands wandered down your body and to your jeans. His hands were insistent as he tugged at your pants, trying to get them off of you. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at Sam’s impatience. You grabbed his hands, pulling away from his lips. 

“Slow down, pretty boy.” You got up from Sam’s lap to shimmy your jeans off, leaving you in your underwear in front of Sam. You resisted the urge to hide away from Sam’s gaze, but he looked at you in awe—his cock jumping at the sight of you. 

“Your turn.” You smirked as you walked in between Sam’s open legs and unbuckled his belt as he kicked off his shoes. 

He helped you as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers, his hard cock springing up from its confines. You tried not to drool at the sight of it. The tip was red and leaking precum—all you wanted to do was taste him. You ran your hands up his thighs, but he caught them before they could make it to their destination. 

Sam quickly grabbed you, and in a blink of an eye, you were straddling Sam’s face. His eyes were trained on the damp patch on your underwear caused by your arousal. 

“Wait, but I want to suck you off.” You stopped Sam before he could think about burying his tongue in you. 

“That can wait.” 

You pouted before you smiled in realization. You managed to get Sam’s hands off of your thighs long enough to turn around to face his cock. 

“Baby, you don’t have to– oh, shit.” Sam cursed when he felt your warm hand wrap around his dick and started to stroke him slowly. 

You couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction before dipping your head down and kissing his weeping tip. Another groan left his lips at the stimulation his cock was getting. Sam remembered that your covered center was right in front of him. 

He pulled your underwear to the side. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, honey.” Sam couldn’t help but praise as he swiped his thumb through your wet slit. 

A shiver went through you at the feeling of his fingers on you. “Could say the same thing about your cock.” You managed to say before wrapping your lips around the tip and engulfing it with your warm mouth. 

“Fuckk.” Sam moaned out at the feeling of your hot mouth on his cock. “Feels so good baby.” 

You hummed around his cock before you started to bob your head, stroking whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

You jumped when you felt Sam’s tongue swipe through your slit, his tongue laving over your cunt before sucking your clit into his mouth. A muffled whine erupted from your lips at the sudden stimulation, and you couldn’t help how your hips chased Sam’s mouth when he pulled away. 

“You taste s’good. Been wanting this for a while.” He confessed as he adjusted your underwear to the side again. Sam scowled at the offending garment. 

You felt something rip, and you pulled away from Sam’s cock long enough to turn around to see Sam throw your now ruined underwear on the floor. 

“Sam! You could have—” You cut yourself off with a moan as Sam buried his face in your pussy, his tongue diving into you, and his hands gripped your hips tight. 

Your head fell to his hip as Sam devoured your cunt. The sounds that were coming from your slick cunt and Sam was downright filthy. Your teeth scraped along his skin when you felt his thick fingers fill you as his lips sealed around your sensitive clit, licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves. 

A groan left Sam’s plush lips, feeling your teeth sink into his skin. You just barely remembered to keep sucking Sam off. The pleasure you were feeling overrode anything you were trying to do. But you started to stroke his cock again, putting your mouth on him once more. 

The coil in your lower belly started to get tighter and tighter as your body grew warmer as Sam ate you out. You could barely focus on getting him off, pulling your mouth off of him and letting the moans and whines escape you as you tried to jerk him off. 

“Shit Sammy, I’m gonna cum.” At your words, Sam seemed to double down in his efforts, his fingers hitting that spot that no one has been able to hit before, and he sucked at your clit harder. 

You came with a cry, letting go of Sam’s cock to grab at his thigh. Sam let out a hiss of pleasure, feeling your nail bite into his skin, his cock twitching at the sensation. Sam worked you through your orgasm before he slowly pulled away so you didn’t get overstimulated. 

Once you calmed down, Sam was able to manipulate your pliant body so you were lying on top of him, face-to-face with him. His chin and lips were covered in your slick, but you didn’t care as you kissed him. The kiss was tender as Sam smiled into it. Sam licked into your mouth, and a low groan left you as you tasted a mix of yourself and Sam on his tongue. 

You started to grind against Sam’s hard cock, covering it in your slick, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths at the feeling. 

Through the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you managed to remember something. “Condom?” You asked as you pulled away from Sam’s lips. 

“In my pants.” Sam gestured to his discarded jeans on the bed. 

You nodded. You got up and grabbed Sam's jeans, checking his pockets until you felt the foil packaging of the condom. Once you grabbed it, you checked as you climbed back onto the bed. 

You saw Sam trying to get up and reach for it. “Nope, stay there. I wanna ride you.” You sent him a sultry grin. 

Sam huffed, but a smile pulled at his lips, and he shook his head. “Fine.” 

You tore open the wrapper and quickly rolled the condom onto Sam’s long cock. You straddled him once more and grabbed its base. Lining it up with your entrance, you slowly sunk on top of him. 

You practically whimpered at the feeling of Sam’s cock stretching you open. The sting of his thick cock sent sparks of pleasure through you. Sam stared at your face, seeing it twist in desire as you slid his dick inside of you. 

Both of you let out matching moans once you had taken him to the hilt. Fuck, you felt so full, his tip just barely pressing against your g-spot. You were already so overwhelmed with the feeling of him but started to move up on his cock before going down just as slowly before starting a rhythm of riding Sam. 

There was a familiar burn in your thighs as you rode Sam, making you falter ever so slightly in your pace, and Sam noticed. He moved his hands to your hips. 

“Doing so good. You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well.” Sam praised as he helped you ride him, his hips thrusting up and meeting you as you sank down on him. 

The motel room was filled with low praises and groans from Sam, which mixed with your whining and babbling about how good he felt in you. At some point, one of Sam’s hands left your hips to cup one of your cheeks. He started to kiss and bite at your neck as the two of you moved in tandem with one another. 

Sam eventually moved from your neck to look at your blissed-out face. As you moved, his thumb slipped into your mouth, and you instinctively started to suck on it like you would his cock. 

“Fuck.” His cock twitched as he felt a zip of pleasure down his spine at the sight of you sucking his thumb. “You close? I can feel you clenching around me. Shit, your cunt is so tight baby, love it so much.” 

Sam pulled his thumb out of your mouth and replaced it with a bruising kiss as he used his spit-slicked thumb to rub against your clit. 

You practically sobbed against his lip. “M’close!” 

“Come for me. Let go f’me pretty girl.” Sam pressed harder against your clit, and you crumbled around him with a silent cry. 

Sam thrusted up into you twice before burying into your convulsing cunt, biting at your shoulder as he spilled into the condom. Sweat coated both of your bodies as you calmed down from your orgasms. Sam let you rest on top of him as his cock softened in you. But after your breathing went back to normal, you peeled yourself off of him and winced slightly as his dick slipped out of you. 

You landed on your stomach with a slight huff escaping your lips. You looked up at Sam as he rested on his elbows, looking down at you. You sent him a smile, which he returned. He leaned down and gave you a tender kiss before getting up from the bed. He took off the condom and tied it up before heading to the bathroom to toss it. 

You moved your back as he was in the bathroom. You were resting your eyes, taking in the bliss-filled silence, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You heard the water running in the bathroom but thought nothing of it. 

Sam eventually made his way back to the main room. “I really hope you didn’t fall asleep on me.” 

“Nope, just resting my eyes.” You opened your eyes to look at Sam. He had managed to pull his boxers back on but had a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. 

You were a little disappointed that he wasn’t naked anymore but still drank in his shirtless torso. 

Sam set down the glass of water on the nightstand before he took the towel he wet with warm water and gently cleaned your cunt, being mindful of how sensitive it was. He dotted soft kisses along your bare skin as he wiped you down. After he was done, Sam grabbed the glass of water and brought it up to your lips. 

Your chest warmed at Sam’s actions. You drank at least half of the glass, leaving the rest for him to gulp down. When the cup was empty, he sat it back down on the nightstand, and you gave him a kiss, pouring all of your gratitude and affection for Sam into it. 

Sam all but melted into the kiss, cupping your face with his free hand before you broke it—resting your forehead against his. You reluctantly moved away from him, knowing you should go to the bathroom before you fell asleep.

You kissed his cheek before standing up from the bed, and your legs shook slightly as you walked towards the bathroom. 

Sam tried to stifle a laugh, but a snort escaped him when he saw you trying to walk normally. 

You whipped your head around to glare at him. “Shut up! It’s your fault anyway.” You tried to be stern, but you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Sam’s smug grin. 

“Sorry.” You damn well knew that he wasn’t sorry at all, but you flipped him off as you turned back around and went to the bathroom. You heard his bright laughter through the bathroom door, making you grin. 

Once you were done with the bathroom, you exited the bathroom to see Sam underneath the covers of the other bed, his head whipping over to you and sending you a soft smile. You couldn’t help but return it as you picked up his brown shirt, putting it over your naked body and buttoning it up before you slid in right next to him under the covers. 

Sam didn’t say anything about wearing his shirt, but he loved seeing you in his clothes, so he had absolutely no problem with wearing it. He turned off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. Both of you let out contented sighs as the two of you settled in each other’s embraces, legs intertwined with one another and arms wrapped around waists and torsos. 

Sleep came easy to you both, finding peace in each other’s arms and something more in either of your hearts.  

[dunzella]

Yandere! Childhood Friend

♥︎ Yandere! Childhood Friend whose stuck in a fantasy world. A delusion so deep, so all-consuming, that it has swallowed you whole.

You don't know how long you been here, Reality and fantasy have blurred together, days melting into weeks, weeks stretching into years. It's been so long, at first, you thought it was just a visit. A nostalgic trip back to your childhood home, back to him. You hadn’t seen him in years; not since you moved away. He looked the same, sounded the same, just… older.

The moment you stepped through the door, he hugged you so tight your ribs ached.

"Missed you so much," he murmured glad to have you back in his arms for the 100th or 1000th time? he lost count again. "It’s been forever."

But that was a lie, it hasn't been forever.

It had been a few days.

Then a few weeks.

Then a few years.

★ Yandere! Childhood Friend who never moved on after you left. Something inside him broke the day you moved away, snapping under the weight of loneliness and grief. He never made new friends. He never let go. He only waited.

✿ Yandere! Childhood Friend lost his parents soon after. They tried to get him help, but he didn’t want help. He wanted you. And when they tried to take him away from the house, your house, his house, he made sure they never left.

♥︎ Yandere! Childhood Friend who never stopped loving you. You were his first and only friend, his first love. And now you’re his only everything.

★ Yandere! Childhood Friend whose house is frozen in time rotting slowly. The walls still had old crayon drawings. The kitchen still smelled like your favorite snacks. Child like drawing littered the whole place. Nothing changed.

Nothing except you.

"I’m not really hungry."

The words barely left your lips before his body stiffened, grip tightening around the knife in his hands. The kitchen went silent. Too silent. His eyes once warm, once bright were empty. Cold.

Then he smiled.

"Rule number one," he whispered, "everyone must play."

✿ Yandere! Childhood Friend clings to your childhood games like a lifeline. Make-believe, dress-up, tea parties, it’s all second nature to him. He hums the same songs, says the same lines. His movements are practiced, rehearsed.

♥︎ Yandere! Childhood Friend who still plays house. He sets the table like he used to. He hands you a plastic teacup, expecting you to take it. If you refuse, his fingers twitch, his smile falters, just for a second, before he laughs.

"You’re so silly!" he coos, nudging it closer. "You always loved tea parties, remember?"

★ Yandere! Childhood Friend when he plays ‘house’ now, it’s different. He kissed your shoulders, your neck, your skin, sick with need, sighing out your name like a prayer. Holding your hands above your head as he fucked you into the mattress, chanting, groaning, crying. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

✿ Yandere! Childhood Friend who silenced your sobs with sloppy, desperate kisses. Tears blurred your vision. Your body trembled. Your mind screamed. This was torture.

But he didn’t feel bad. Because this was all part of the game.

And you have to play.

♥︎ Yandere! Childhood Friend who remembers every round. Every argument. Every escape attempt. Every death. But he never acknowledges it. He pretends it’s all brand new, because if he breaks character, if he lets reality sink in, the illusion will shatter.

And he can’t let that happen.

★ Yandere! Childhood Friend who tries to convince you to stay, the thirtieth time you learned the truth, you found his journal under the bed. Pages upon pages detailing each cycle. You always run away, always forget, always come back

Run away, forget, come back.

Run away, forget, come back.

The twentieth time, you jumped from the second-story window.

The fiftieth time, he held your hand and jumped with you. Laughing as if it were just another game

And then, It all started over.

✿ Yandere! Childhood Friend wishes that maybe this time, this round, you won’t try to leave. That maybe this time, you’ll stay. So he doesn't have to play afraid that you'll run away, perhaps he gets to finish the game.

♥︎ Yandere! Childhood Friend who doesn’t understand why you keep trying to leave. "We have everything here!" His voice cracks, frustration bleeding through his cheerful tone. "You don’t have to work. We have money. No bills. No depressing jobs."

"You think the outside world is better?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "You think you’re missing out on something?" His hands clench into fists, and for the first time in a long time, he drops the act completely.

He sees it in your eyes. The panic. The realization.

The way your breath hitches. The way your fingers tremble.

And his heart clenches when you whisper, "I need to leave."

You always say that.

And he always stops you.

His fingers dug into your wrists. "Why do you keep trying to ruin it?"

His voice softens, turns almost pleading. "Here, anything is possible."

★ Yandere! Childhood Friend watches as you break coming to the realization this isn't the first time you did this. You screamed. You shook. You begged to leave. But he doesn’t let you.

✿ Yandere! Childhood Friend who hugs you tight, whispering sweet comforts, rocking you back and forth. His voice holds nothing malicious just pure innocent adoration.

"It’s okay. It’s okay. We don’t have to fight anymore."

♥︎ Yandere! Childhood Friend loving holds out his hand for you to take, saying how he'll always be here for you, you have everything you need here, everything here is unchanged, he will never change.

★ Yandere! Childhood Friend who beams when you finally give in, when you stop fighting and let him lead you back into his twisted, frozen world, his whole face lights up.

✿ Yandere! Childhood Friend who played every game that comes to mind, from pillow fights to hide and seek. Running through the house like children, untouched by time.

He hugs you tight happy, For the first time in years, you aren’t fighting him. After hundreds of rounds, he can love you without resistance.

And so, the game ends the way it always should have.

He drinks poison.

You slit your wrists.

And as the world dims, he cups your face, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, green eyes filled with childlike wonder.

For a moment, he sees it, the two of you as kids.

"I'm sleepy now.." you murmur, voice slurred, eyes heavy. which made Yandere! Childhood Friend smile gently before nodding, "Okay," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Let’s go to sleep."

The lights flicker out.

~

Dream. Just dream.

Dream of everything you’ve lost. Dream of everything you were meant to be.

Dream of the places you’ll never see.

Because when the sun rises, the grave will yawn open, and time will wake from its slumber.

But not yet.

For now, sleep. Let the night wrap around you, soft and endless. Let the dream stretch on, unbroken.

Because in his arms, time is still.

In his arms, you will never leave.

The first thing you hear when you wake is his voice.

"Missed you so much." he murmurs, hugging you tight.

"It’s been forever."

[stellawish]

swiss roll

summary: satoru trying to help his son to learn how to roll over genre: fluff, domestic life warnings: none dad!gojo x mom!reader

“Here we go, buddy.” Sitting on the floor in Haru’s nursery, Gojo gently laid his son on his belly. The baby started to wiggle his short legs while looking at the colorful animals printed on the mattress.

Satoru began to gently massage the baby’s small back. Using rubbing motions with his hands, he drew a line from the shoulders to the lower back. In response, Haru started babbling.

The contrast between your son's small back and Gojo's large hands looked comical. Watching this, you giggled.

As first-time parents, you are always learning and seeking new information, whether from books or various websites.

Recently, you caught Satoru watching a tutorial video. "Massage helps strengthen the back muscles and aids in digestion," said the woman in the video about helping your baby learn to roll over.

Satoru continued with the same gentle movements of his thumbs, drawing lines in opposite directions as he moved lower.

When he finished, he turned the baby onto his back and said in a mock-serious voice, "Now the real training begins. This time, don’t expect any mercy."

Your 4-month-old boy showed his gummy smile, and unable to resist, Satoru kissed his son’s round cheek.

Your husband took Haru's short legs and lifted them into the air, directing them towards his tummy. Then he lowered them down and repeated the movement again.

You were lying next to them on your side, resting your hand under your head and watching the scene with a broad smile. “By the way, Toru, Megumi texted me and said they’ve arrived.”

Megumi and his friends went to summer camp for a few weeks. When he first told you about this plan, both you and Gojo were surprised, as Megumi isn’t very social and prefers spending time alone.

So, his decision to attend summer camp delighted both of you. “I’m glad he’s opening up and coming out of his shell,” you said.

“They’re good kids,” Gojo added.

“There's a great spot nearby that sells some awesome strawberry Swiss rolls. I should get him to bring some home.”

You watches him simultaneously lifting the little boy by his arms and placing him in a sitting position. Satoru read somewhere that such activities strengthen the baby’s muscles and help them learn to roll over independently.

“There you go, little one.” As he turned Haru onto his back, Satoru tickled the baby’s neck, making him wiggle.

Next, your husband, carefully supporting the baby’s side, flipped him onto his tummy and then back onto his back, repeating the action once more.

For the last time, Gojo exaggeratedly sighed and, in a playful manner, said, “Good job, buddy. You did great.” He praised his son. “Now tell me, where did you get your athleticism from, hmm?”

You giggled. “You, my little Swiss roll.” Gojo tickled the baby’s belly and blew raspberries, causing Haru to wiggle and giggle.

Satoru decided to spare the baby and pulled away with a big smile. “Okay, now which book do you want to read today?”

He flipped Haru back onto his tummy and stood up while you gently stroked the baby’s back.

Gojo chose a book and lay down on the other side of Haru. He opened the first page and placed the colorful interactive book in front of his son, encouraging him to explore it.

You stretched your left arm out and accidentally pressed a toy, which squeaked “meow.”

This distracted Haru from the book, and he turned his head toward you. Unable to find the source of the sound, he tucked his right arm underneath himself and, lifting his plump left thigh, ended up on his back.

You and Gojo looked at each other in shock, questions in your eyes. “Did you see that?” your lips stretched into identical smiles. “Oh, my baby, what a good boy. Can you do that again, hmm?” You both began to shower your chubby little one with kisses, eliciting his laughter and making his cheeks rosy.

While you all cuddled together, praising your little one, you locked eyes with Satoru. Despite the genuine joy for your son’s first victory, you saw the reflection of your own thoughts in his eyes: Don’t grow up too fast, son.

more dad!gojo HERE

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