#thank you for requesting honey!!

[titancanvas]

mai !! for your ask game . . how about boyfie gojo or toji ? 🫶🏻

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 . . . he spoils you like no other — lavish outings to five star restaurants and booking out boutiques so you could give him your own private little fashion show, but also because he can't keep his hands off you when you're parading around in pretty little skimpy pieces he'd end up tearing off you anyways. the type to get jealous but ends up being cocky about it whenever he happens to notice someone staring a little too long at you. "you seriously think she'd fuck you when I'm dicking her down so good she can't walk?" hands on your waist, always. perhaps a teasing little smack on your ass when he deems no one is looking. got a mirror fitted on the ceiling above his bed so he could watch all the pretty faces you make for him since you're always looking away. makes you ride him, fingers digging into soft and supple skin, lazily meeting your hips with his own as he coos, "aw, baby... you crying? you need more from me? be a good girl for me and take it."

be my boyfriend?

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

i'll melt your heart into two @jkvjimin ♡

[gojosattoru]

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA PHONE WALLPAPERS ★ -> requested by anon Hope you like it darling! Thank you for your request! Had loads of fun!! <33333~~ Hope they look good!! Sorry for being so late!

COMMISSIONS/KO-FI AND REQUESTS OPEN!!!

[stevebabey]

RUBY!!! Hii!! Congratulations on the follower milestone!! I am going to say this again AND AGAIN AND AGAIN but you're one of the most amazing and talented people I have ever come across on this hellsite and I think you deserve this AND SO MUCH MORE!!

Now I have heard great things about Family Video and a certain himbo employee so can I pretty please request no. 9 from list 3 ❤️‍🔥

Sending you so so so much love!!!!

- @etherealforever234 <33

HI!!!! firstly, u like seriously flatter me 🥹🥹 i am feelin GOOEY u actually make writing things like this so easy!!! cos i want 2 write for u and its all luv!!! i'm sorry it's mayhaps a little later than you expected but alas, i think u will still enjoy MWAH LOVE U @etherealforever234 1.4k nd whoops r kinda gives loser vibes in this (loser gf anyone? luveline has like coined that phrase hehe)

You’re expecting him to be gone by eight. Nine at the latest.

The clock on the wall ticks closer to to 10pm and you unwillingly keep tabs on it, driven by your restless anxiety. You should be watching the show on the grainy television screen ahead of you, really. Especially after you jokingly bickered with Steve over the film choice for so long and he finally gave in and fed your pick into the VCR.

But you’re not focused on that either. If your eyes aren’t darting to check the clock, all your focus is zeroed in on the feeling of Steve’s thigh pressed against your own.

It might as well be searing a scorch mark into your skin; you’re sure the feeling might be imprinted in your memory forever. His warmth seeps into you. Somehow, it feels like he’s both defrosting hidden worries within you and setting you aflame. Hopes rise and yet, with them come a dozen other new worries.

Despite his closeness, still, you really were expecting him to be gone by eight. Why is he still here? It’s a little uncomfortable to admit it to yourself but you know the confusion stems from the fact people don’t tend to stick around with you.

Steve seems to be an exception.

You check the clock again and try not to think too hard about how nice his closeness is. How you’re already missing it when he hasn’t even left yet. The hand on the clock shudders with every second it ticks around the clock-face. Steve sees your motion, his eyes silently checking in on you, and a frown crinkles his brow at your distracted state.

“Everything alright?” He asks, voice a bit raspy from under use.

You startle just a bit, head whipping towards him beside him. He’s watching you close, amber eyes sincere and expression open. Surprise sprouts within your chest; he must have noticed your fidgeting attention.

“What? Yeah, yes, everything’s fine.” You assure him with a nod, maybe a bit too eager. “Everything alright with you?” You ask nervously, just to check.

Steve laughs a bit at that. He presses his knee against yours purposefully, a gentle knock. Pairs it with a sweet smile.

“Yep,” He smiles, pink lips not at all distracting you in the least. Your gaze darts to the moles on his neck and back to his face as he continues. “You just keep checking the clock. Want to make sure I‘m not... y'know, overstaying my welcome.”

His words dip at the end, clipped by a tone of worry as he turns back to face the screen ahead a bit, pretending to re-tune in. Steve’s been working on toning it down, trying not to be too intense too quickly. Both in the interest of protecting his heart and trying not to scare you off.

But shit, you’re lovely. Steve’s not entirely sure he’s got a choice in this; his heart feels like it might crawl its way out of his chest just to be nearer to you. It’s particularly insatiable when you’re this close. Thigh to thigh. He can smell your perfume and he’s fairly certain it’s put him in some lovesick state of delirium.

Still, he can read people. Your insistence on checking the clock implies you want him to leave and yet, he can hear the tiny hitch of your breath when he leans closer. Confusion muddles together in his brain.

From the way surprise flickers across your features, you don’t actually want him to go. Some part of him sighs in relief before you even open your mouth to reassure him.

“What? No! No, no way.” The words come out a bit squeakier than you want. You curse yourself for somehow letting him believe you want him gone when it’s quite the opposite you want.

Steve nods, his face earnest enough to tell you he believes you. He shifts on the couch, turning back to face you and inadvertently leans in closer. Swirls of his cologne rush your senses. You hate how your brain tries to commit it to memory in an instant. Fuck, he’s pretty.

“So,” Steve starts, licking his lips in a nervous motion. He gestures with his hand, “The clock?”

Shit. You’ve accidentally cornered yourself. You can either let Steve stew, not quite believing that he isn’t just imposing on you and your time, or tell the truth. It somehow feels even more pathetic now than ever.

“I just,” You start, tearing your eyes off his face. Your throat grows a bit thicker and your fingers find a thread on your pants to toy with. “I’m... surprised you’re still here. That you want to be here. And, y’know, spend time with me. Still.”

It doesn’t feel any greater to say aloud. Eyes fixed in your lap, teeth worrying your bottom lip, you miss the way Steve’s eyes widen. Some wave of hurt curdles up inside him, sour and sore, because fuck, you’re waiting for him to leave? Not because you want him to but you’re expecting it?

Screw trying to tone himself down. Steve knows his heart is on his sleeve and he’ll be damned if the one time he tries to shelter it, it backfires. The words come out easy, without a lick of a lie in them.

“I want to spend all my time with you.” He says sincerely, another press of his leg against yours to drive the message home. He means it completely.

That has your head tugging up. Steve’s heart gives a painful little twist at the utter surprise on your face.

“You do?” You ask.

He pushes on, ignoring the urge to ask who made you feel like such a burden and whether he could throttle them. “I like you. I mean, yeah, of course, I wanna spend time with you.” 

He says it so flippantly, casualness dousing every word, like it was a thought he’d thought a thousand times. Heat flames in your chest, brilliantly warm, and curls up to your face. You let out a breath, a little shuddering quiet laugh of disbelief.

“Oh.” You say. The smile curling at the edges of your mouth is impossible to fight. It’s a full blown grin by the time you meet his eyes again and shuffling closer feels like an instinct you can’t ignore.

“Me too.” You admit, nerves still piling in your chest but damn, if the elation of hearing those words doesn’t beat them by a mile. “I mean, I like you too. As well.”

Steve rumbles out another chuckle but you can see how delight dances across his face. His shoulders sit a little lower, grin a little more confident all of a sudden. His knee nudges yours again, for what must be the umpteenth time this night. Forget scorching, he’s burning into your side — the touch unbearable in the best way now you know he wants you. Wants you like you want him.

“Sounds like we’re in the same boat, you and I.” He says simply, wiggling his arm out from where it’s sandwiched between the two of you. He pulls it up to his face with a clenched fist, covering a yawn, and it takes about another second for it to click — when he stretches the arm up, above your heads, and lets it settle down around your shoulder.

God, that’s a move. You’re nearly ashamed of how well it works on you, considering your stomach twists up gleefully. He’s flirting with you.

“Sounds like it.” You breathe out, voice escaping you a bit at how much closer the two of you are now his arm is around you. Steve’s breath fans across your face, his eyes locked onto your face. They roam your face, drinking in the details, paying particular attention to your mouth.

You lick your lips without meaning to and decide you can’t wait til another evening together, hours away, to know what his lips feel like. Steve will not be the only brave one tonight.

Leaning in, you give a moment's pause, to let him give you a sign to back off. To see if the universe will pull the rug out from underneath you, for this to be some cruel joke.

Steve nods, the tiniest motion. This close, you can see the smallest quiver of his lips. You do your best to kiss it away, trying your hardest to contain your smile with your lips against his. From the way Steve smiles into the kiss, you’re sure he doesn’t mind.

[eatingsomegreeneggos]

Last batch of edits for now! 💗 These were so difficult to make haha I couldn’t find good screenshots but like that’s going to stop me >:3

[ellssbellss]

(BONUS!) Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

first, for you: thank you so much for 200 followers and for 2k reads on wattpad. i wanted to give back a little to you guys for reading my work and actually enjoying it :) i'll probably do something like this for all the milestones! love you, i hope you're having a great day :)

-> this is canon to lavender roses!

-> summary: That left one more person.

Swiftly but cautiously, the entire club turned towards the center of the front row, where a raven-haired, glasses-wearing, very handsome pain in your side sat on one side of a double recliner, legs crossed and arms folded as if he wasn’t the cause of all this. 

-> word count: 2.4k (just a drabble/oneshot)

see masterlist!: masterlist

taglist:  @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade

Weekend Movie Night :)

Your tongue curled against the roof of your mouth as you reeled in your patience, feeling a rush of air whip down your sternum and around your ribcage as you willed the rising annoyance back into the place it belonged. 

Evening out your shoulders, you once again lift your hands at either side, grasping two plastic covers as you gestured sharply to the two movies in your grasp.

They did this every weekend. 

Every weekend, you stood in front of the tv of your home theater, your house being the ideal place for movie night considering the constant absence of your parents, and every weekend the host club stared at you like two heads had just grown out of your waste, shouting at you to just give up and get a new set of friends already. 

Or was that just in your head?

“Okay, this is your last chance,” You warned, fighting the urge to throw down the discs and locking yourself in your bedroom. “Or we are definitely going to watch whatever Honey-senpai brought with him. What was it again, Honey?”

Looking over to the boy-lolita, he looked so small perched on the lap of his taller cousin, a soft  yellow hoodie and basketball shorts a stark contrast to the black t-shirt and joggers the stoic wore. His blonde hair perked up, and the light in his eyes got impossibly brighter when you spoke to him, and for a minute, you weren’t totally terrified of his answer. 

But Honey said it with a smile, one too bright for his choice of film.

A shudder passed through the host club, save for Kyoya, who wrote in his journal, uninhibited  by the world around him. Even the twins looked gray at the mention of the children’s film.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t watch that again.” A deep, feminine voice sounded as Haruhi complained, and your gaze glanced to the double recliner that she and Tamaki shared, a comfortable blanket draped over their legs. Haruhi had put space between them, but the prince was inching ever closer, and the way Haruhi was side-eyeing him, he was on the border of her punching range. 

“We watched that last week, Honey-senpai…” Hikaru said, throwing a hand over his eyes as he reclined on one of the double recliners in the second row of the theater.

“...it wasn’t good then, and it wasn’t good the other four times.” Kaoru added, sounding equally exasperated as he shifted the pillow he was using onto Hikaru’s shoulder, trying to get into a more comfortable position. 

“Well, then how about we all vote on a movie, and then we won’t have to watch it.” You said, shifting your weight onto the other foot as you extended your arm, holding one of the movie options out in front of you before doing the same thing with the right. 

“Ponyo? Or A Quiet Place?”

It was like comparing apples and oranges. Or rather beautiful goddesses with deaf, bloodthirsty monsters. 

“I’m telling you, A Quiet Place is one of the best movies I have ever seen.” Rising from his seat, Hikaru grabs the attention of the host club as they turn back to look at him, even as Kaoru falls flat on the recliner after leaning on his brother so heavily.  

“It has everything.” The Hitachiian twin starts counting on his fingers aggressively. “Romance, horror, representation. At the very beginning, you will be on the edge of your seat.”

“It is too much!” A dramatic shout emits from the front row, and Tamaki raises his hands in the air before running them through his perfect hair, his casual lavender cardigan slipping down his forearm. “This is the one afternoon where we can be together in a calm, peaceful environment. I will not be rested by a woman giving birth in a bathtub.”

Exasperatingly, his fingers find his forehead as he reminds the group in disappointment. “Not to mention, the Japanese dub is terrible.”

“Plus Ponyo is cute! Her big eyes and the little fishies.” Another giggle escaped the martial arts master as he looked up at Mori, milk chocolate mixing in with deep cocoa. “Don’tchya think, Takashi?”

“Yeah.” A firm nod pulled the stoic’s neck. “I like the story.”

Another sigh rushed through your nose as you nodded. “Okay, now we are getting somewhere. Three votes for Ponyo, and one for A Quiet Place. Kaoru?”

“Hm?” The ginger-haired twin lifts his head from the pillow, squinting his eyes at your silhouette that was illuminated from the large movie screen behind you. 

“Ponyo or A Quiet Place?” 

Drowsiness filled his voice, which you were used to. Used to being the early riser of the twins, he was also used to a stricter bedtime of 10pm, one that your group constantly surpassed during these watch parties. 

But he made a lazy gesture towards his much more awake brother before letting his hand drop on the couch below him. “Whatever Hikaru said.” 

And then the sneaky twin turned in the chair, facing the back leather cushions, cutting himself out of the conversation. 

“Okay then, Kaoru adds another vote for Quiet Place. Not like he’s going to watch it anyways.” You muttered the last part under your breath before turning sharply towards your favorite club member.

“Haruhi?”

“Like I said before, I vote for A Quiet Place. I like the cinematography and the acting. We can watch it with subtitles, so the dub thing is an easy fix,” She said flippantly, shoving her shoulder into Tamaki’s as he tried to wrap his arms around her with tears in his eyes, begging her to choose something else.

That left one more person.

Swiftly but cautiously, the entire club turned towards the center of the front row, where a raven-haired, glasses-wearing, very handsome pain in your side sat on one side of a double recliner, legs crossed and arms folded as if he wasn’t the cause of all this. 

“Kyoya?” There’s a slight plea in your voice. “Which one do you want to see?” 

You desperately hold the two movies out in front of him, shoving the choices into his line of sight. 

But his gray eyes held your stare, an arch in his eyebrow framing them like gothic architecture. 

“I’ve said it once before, and I have no intention of changing my mind.” Pale fingers reach to adjust the frame of his glasses as he pauses.

“I, in all honesty, could not care less.”

Groans sound from the entire movie theater, and you are almost brought to your knees as you throw your head back into a whine. “Kyoya!”

“And I still don’t understand why I am to be the tie breaker? Why can’t you decide on our movie?” His calculating gaze lands on you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

You lose.

“Because, Kyoya, I am the host! The host doesn’t choose the movie, that’s just rude.”

“Technically, we are all hosts, so your logic is flawed.”

“Oh my god.” You wanted to smack your head with one of these discs.

Instead, you rested your head onto the plastic covers, shielding your frustrated face from your friends. 

How do you get him to choose a goddamn movie?

“Why are you even here if you won’t choose a movie, Senpai?” Hikaru asks, uncrossing his legs so that Kaoru can lay down in his lap. “Might as well just go home at this point.”

Kyoya’s simple button down barely shifts as he gives Hikaru a side glance. “I was invited.” A smile rests on his face, and you think he might almost like delaying the movie like he was. “It would be a shame to turn it down.”

“You are one of the most decisive people I know.” You say from behind the movies. “Why are you doing this to us?”

“I make decisions for things I care about. For example, I decided to come to this homemade screening because it was good for the club’s morale.” Another knowing smirk twists into his lips. “But this…this is not something that affects me.” 

Squinting your eyes, Kyoya watched as the cute, teasing desperation that had wrinkled your face hardened into a sinister amusement. He arched a brow as you creeped closer to his seat.

“Doesn’t affect you? Did you not hear what I said earlier?” You ask, an evil glint in your eye.

The ravenet faced you dead on though, almost sounding bored as he challenged you. “When you failed to admit that you were a hypocrite, as you are making everyone choose a movie except yourself?”

Your eyebrow twitched. “No, before that.”

Kyoya hummed, a finger coming to rest on his chin. “No, I think I might’ve had other things on my mind more important than this.”

“Ah, so you don’t know the stakes.” Tamaki said, a taunt in his buttery voice. You were closer now, as was the rest of the host club, leaning in like spiders on a web, and Kyoya was the fly caught in the string.

“What stakes?” The megane asks, the space in between his brows slightly folding together.

Now it was your turn to be arrogant, the drawl of your voice inflicting something higher than thou. “If you don’t pick one, Kyo, we’re just gonna watch what Honey-senpai wants to watch.”

Even if it was just the slightest bit, as you inched closer to the director, you saw his eyelids widen at your threat.

“That’s not possible, we just watched it last week.” Was that a waver in his voice? 

“Oh yes, Kyo,” You said, reaching your destination. Resting one hand on the arm of the chair closest to his body while the other settled on the back of the cushion, you caged Kyoya between you and the chair, blocking any means of escape. “We’re gonna watch My Little Pony.”

If he had a reaction to your closeness, which – considering the small blush that Mori and Haruhi noticed on his cheeks – he did, it was small and unimportant to the impending threat hanging over his head. Flashbacks flew through his mind of the nauseating music, the jokes meant for five year olds, and the infuriating notion that Twilight was an intellectual scholar. 

He would be a genius too if he had a magic horn coming out of his forehead bending to his will. 

At first, he didn’t believe you. Gray eyes searched (e/c) ones with an investigative glance, but he found nothing but determination and smugness swirling in the captivating orbs. 

Internally, he had already admitted defeat. Not only does he want to avoid that goddamned movie as much as possible, but he had come here to spend time with his friends; spend time with you. And all this back and forth had been fun for a while, but it was far past the time for you to stop worrying, sit down, and relax beside him. 

Plus, he would never admit how you had just blocked him into a corner. 

Rolling his eyes to break away from your intense stare, Kyoya deepend his posture into the leather recliner, breathing a sigh of refined resignation before giving you his vote. 

“A Quiet Place.” His deep voice rumbled through the suspense in the movie theater, and he reveled in the change of your expression.

Your eyes brightened from their darker state into something excited, but whether it was from the fact that you had won or the fact that he had picked the movie that you secretly wanted, he couldn’t tell. 

That gorgeous smile of yours burst from the seams of your lips before you released him from his perfumed prison, standing up and triumphantly holding the winning movie in the air.

“A Quiet Place it is!”

A cheer from Hikaru resounded over a tired sigh from Kaoru behind the megane, even if it was covered by the whine and cries of the most immature host: his best friend beside him. 

“Mon ami! You can’t make me watch something so violent!” Tamaki laments, and you almost lose yourself in the purple puppy dog eyes that glistened in the dimming lights.

“Tamaki, if you watch this, I’ll let you borrow one of my super comfortable hoodies, okay?”

Immediately, the prince was in awe, and his smile was almost as bright as his hair.

“Really?”

A sweet giggle tumbled out of your throat. “Really.”

Then that was it. After popping in the disc, you took your seat next to your director, just as he sat beside his manager. The movie screen glowed with the opening credits as the lights went out completely, the colors of the screen flashing across your face. 

You reached over the arm of the chair before pulling out a fluffy blanket. Throwing most of it around your legs, you glanced at Kyoya’s crossed ones, which were currently uncovered.  

“Do you want to share the blanket?” You whispered, and Kyoya’s gaze shot from the screen to you, then down to the blanket, then to you again.

After realizing how that might have sounded, you quickly tried to help him understand where you're coming from, stumbling over your quiet words as the first scene played. “Or I can get you another one! There are a couple folded over there, I just know it can get chilly in here, so-”

The blanket was gingerly tugged from your grasp as Kyoya flicked it out, causing the fabric to spread and drape over the both of you. In order to be fully under the warmth of the throw, you had to scoot in closer to the center, causing the sides of your bodies to touch ever so slightly. 

You shifted away immediately, conscious you might be making him uncomfortable. “Is this okay? Too much?”

There it was again, that shift in his face as his eyes widened that you wouldn’t be able to see without only being inches from his form. But instead of the cautious motions that had come afterward, his face softened into an ever-so-faint grin, and he rested more into the couch, intentionally pushing your shoulders together. 

“This is fine.” He whispered back, and it was good that he was okay with it, considering you curled into him with each moment of suspense and every jump scare. 

again, thank you so much. you're lovely to write for :)

[plugnuts]

hewwo.... can i get... a clyde in either F5 or A3 flavor for the drawing meme?? thank u.... 🥺

How ‘bout both?

[howthesleeplesswander]

@badboysupr liked this post for a starter! || ((IT'S TIIIIIME for the long-awaited reunion these sweethearts deserve! ;W;/ ❤️❤️))

"No way. No fuckin' way!"

Finn's crowing rang through the dingy alley and echoed up to the concrete overpass above. The rundown neighborhood was abandoned so late on a chill winter night, letting him enjoy the melancholy of cars rumbling overhead as a sluggish, fluffy-flaked snowfall coated the streets. He hadn't seen another soul on the way back to his hideout until the figure he'd just spotted in the distance—but he'd recognize that curly moptop anywhere.

Picking up the pace, he waved his arms as he trotted over, his grin wide and bright. "If it ain't Leo Valdez! Holy shit, man, are you a sight for sore eyes. Glad to see you're still alive and kickin' after all this time. What's it been? Two years? Three?"

Far shorter than it felt like, considering all that had happened since they'd last seen each other. Back then Finn had been an entirely different person, but damn, this kid hadn't aged a day! Was that a perk for all the world's magic kids? Lucky bastards.

"I wandered my way back to Pasadena on a whim a few weeks ago, but I sure never thought I'd run into you here again." He rubbed his hands together against the cold, blowing on his fingers before tucking them into the pockets of his tattered jacket. "You better not tell me you're squattin' in those same manufacturing plants again, or I just might think you missed me, too."

[quietrobots]

Series Chester and Flint getting along:)

dawg how did you mess up so egregiously

[mirrortouchedsea]

rinniki + 21 or 5 🥺

Oh these are also both so cute but I'll go with 5 methinks

ask game

…where it doesn’t hurt.

---

Shit. Niki let go of the knife and drew his finger up to his mouth. He licked the blood off before assessing the damage. It wasn't deep but he'd have to have a band-aid on it for a few days and Rinne would never let him hear the end of it. That almost hurt more than the cut itself.

Niki walked over to the sink and turned on the water, taking a towel and gently cleaning his the cut. Where did they put the antiseptics again?

He jumped as a pair of arms wrapped around his torso.

"Oi, Niki, whatcha doin'?" Niki dropped the towel.

"Dishes. Leave me alone." He elbowed the man, his boyfriend, and grabbed for the box of band-aids on the counter.

"That doesn't look like dishes to me Niki-kyun~ Didya hurt yourself?" Rinne poked at Niki's shoulder. "Do ya need your Rinne-kun to kiss it all better?"

"Shut up Rinne-kun."

"Aw, don't be like that Niki~ c'mere." Niki had already finished putting the band-aid on when Rinne grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips. "There! All better!"

"You didn't even kiss the band-aid Rinne-kun!"

[tunabesimpin]

AHJSDSHGDSGHDS CONGRATS ON 500+ DUDE-

im gonna keep it the same as last time- however Tuna can bully Honeyuu with T*ey um yeah-

but im not a simp haheehohoohe

Now what if Tuna teases them both at the same time- Then what :3c

Matching! How cute >V< Don't ask how Tuna got Trey to dress up

[titancanvas]

haii maii wishin u a good day~ may i join ur ask game? ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა wit kirishima from mha pwetty please! ♡ xoxo

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 . . . is nothing short of a charmer, chivalrous and kind. always sprinting to hold open doors for you, tuck your chair in at a dinner table, bring you flowers on sunny days and lend you his coat when the weather starts getting chilly. absolutely adores any form of praise he gets from you — his eyes light up and he sports a toothy grin for the rest of the day. has no problem hauling you over one shoulder and carrying you around when you say your feet are tired from walking. purposely happens to forget his shirt when he goes for a jog, just to come home with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and covered in sweet. bear hugs bear hugs bear hugs, gives the absolute best hugs ever, smushes you to his chest and keeps you there until you feel like everything is okay again. the type to leave hickeys and bite marks in places he knows only he'll be able to see. chronic biter when it comes to sex, hope you're okay with being marked up. likes to show off his strength, often holding you up or guiding you, low rasps of "f-fuck, that's it. look at you taking all of me. s'big, right? tight fit each fuckin time. it's like your pussy can't get enough of me 'n you can't even take the whole thing."

[thegirlnextdoorssister]

Request<3 Dead!Ghost!Steve Rogers x reader: You saw a boy staring at you on the train. This would have been fine, except that his clothes appear to be several centuries out of date, no one else seems to be able to see him, and you haven’t seen her blink. Not even once.

Thank you anon for this request!!!

This will be a drabble , hope that’s ok.

warnings: none yet.

She would always take the train, since she didn’t have a car. She loved taking the train, she’s a people watcher . The journey to the train station allowed her to see many people. Everything was normal as can be until she got on the train. She choose her seat by the window as always, she saw many people; one man with his phone by his ear holding his brief case talking to what seemed to be his wife with the cute little nicknames he used and the gold band on his left ring finger honey, sorry but it’s going to be a long day I don’t think I’m going to make it for movie night, my love. She would watch everyone who walked inside the train. 35 minutes into the train ride she notices a man staring at her, she stares back and see the most beautiful blue eyes, she could just drown in them. As she made her way down his face she noticed his outfit. An unbuttoned suit jacket with a white undershirt with tie tucked into his high-waist pants that was held together with suspenders and a hat. This wouldn’t be weird in the 40s but in 2022. Who is he? She waves her hand at him, he just stares. She didn’t notice but everyone on te train was staring strangely at her. She felt eyes on her and slowly stopped waving and turned to see them all staring at her. “You see the man dressed in an outdated suit” she points to the man. “What man?” she turned to see the owner of the voice. “The man sitting righ-“. She abruptly stops talking once she turned back around and saw the man that once was sitting 15 steps away had vanished.

[gojosattoru]

★ GOJO SATORU HEADERS AND ICONS ★ -> requested by @kanalover Hope you like it! For better resolution for the header, you can download 1.download on this link! 2.download on this link! 3.download on this link! Thank you for your request honey!

COMMISSIONS/KO-FI AND REQUESTS OPEN!!!

[stevebabey]

Congrats on da followers dearest!!! How about a blurb? “I wouldn’t wanna fight you. You’re pretty feisty.” with you know who ;) tbh that entire 45 OTP list gives me bf Steve vibes, very well selected babe 😌

sanne honey thank u!!! i make keith such a villain lmao but plots gotta plot yanno - hope u love this, mwah mwah MWAH <33

You think, if you could, you might genuinely feed Keith to a demogorgan for all the nastiness he gives your boyfriend.

It’s disheartening to watch Steve leave the house in the morning, chest puffed out and smiles easy as you kiss him goodbye before you depart yourself — only for him to come back to you deflated, shoulders slumped and a smile nowhere in sight.

Steve comes to yours today, like you’d both agreed. He lets himself in the door and trudges up the stairs with such heavy feet you hear him coming despite your loud music. Reaching out, you swivel the dial on the radio. The music lowers, just as Steve knocks lightly on your bedroom door.

He’s sweet. You’re expecting him, but he’ll still knock.

“Come in if you’re handsome!” You call out, already beginning to smile, just ‘cos he’s here.

The door nudges open slowly. It’s a pitiful sight. Steve’s always been a pouter. His bottom lip is jutted out, clearly looking for sympathy. It’s good thing you adore coddling him.

Steve seems to perk up just a tad at the sight of you, stretched out on the bed, with a book between your hands. He beelines for it. When his legs reach the edge, he folds easily and flops onto the mattress facedown, then groans.

“Oh, Stevie,” you sigh, ditching your book in an instant. You reach out and card your fingers through his shaggy hair. It needs a cut, you think absentmindedly, as you comb through it. You wonder if he’ll let you— it’s an awful lot of trust.

You hold your tongue but he doesn’t speak up, which raises an alert within you. When there’s no long-winded bitch that he’s been holding in all day, you know it must’ve been rough today.

“Keith again?”

“Yeah.” The word is muffled against your comforter, all quiet. You barely hear it.

“Want me to fight him?” You ask, maybe only half joking. Fingers soothe along his scalp again, halting slightly when he digs his face out and turns it to see you. His cheek smushes against your sheets. His eyes are already brighter, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the ends of his mouth.

“Uh huh.” He says.

You mistake his genuineness for teasing and narrow your eyes, your hand in his hair stopping its movements all together. Steve lets out a grumble and his pout returns.

“You don’t think I could?” You raise your brows, voice light but enthused. “I would so win that fight. I can’t believe you don’t think I’d win that fight!”

Your distraction works wonders as Steve’s head pops up, amusement dancing on his features as he bats a hand to interrupt your spiel. “I didn’t say that!” He insists.

He props himself up on an elbow and blows a piece of stray hair back from his eyes. All signs of his dreariness begin to melt away the longer he’s with you.

“Even I wouldn’t wanna fight you,” He counters with a proud smile.

“You’re pretty fiesty.” He punctuates his words with a light jab to your ribs suddenly, making you yelp. You smack away his hand lightly but Steve’s already twisting it, covering your hand with his own, and tugging it towards him before you can blink.

“You vs. Keith? No-brainer.” He assures earnestly, grazing a kiss against your fingers. Damn him, he’s good. More than anything, you’re pleased that he’s feeling better. The better the mood Steve is in, the more kisses you seem to get. It’s a rule of thumb.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you,” You continue, still voicing the dramatic tone. “I’d just wave a bottle of shampoo in his direction and he’d just disintegrate entirely.”

You feel Steve’s breath against your fingers as he laughs, curling his grip a bit tighter. He pulls, urging you closer and you are in no mood to deny him. Wiggling over, you get close enough to feel the warmth emanating from him, to smell the musk of his cologne. Faintly, you can pick out your own shampoo scent. Little thief, you think to yourself lovingly.

His arms slither around you, warm and tan, and you hum happily at the closeness, letting him bundle you up. You press a quick kiss to his jaw, the easiest access but Steve chases your lips til he captures them. It’s sweet as syrup and gentle enough that you crave another — and another, and another. The radio plays love songs as you let him come home to you through a matter of touch.

join the celebration!

[helianskies]

63 for spuk?

ohohoho,, with pleasure...

Remedy

"You're in pain," Arthur says, and Antonio, who stands at a window and stares out at a foreign land, arms crossed and fingernails dancing between his lips, does not respond.

His pain is obvious, nevertheless. He holds himself because he feels that there is no one else in the world who could hold him and make him feel better. His eyes look sore and his cheeks damp because he was crying not two minutes ago (and rejected Arthur’s offer of a handkerchief). He looks out of a window because it is easier than having to look someone else in the face—someone he doesn’t quite trust, perhaps—and admitting that yes, he is in pain.

The trouble is, Arthur has a knack for reading people, and especially someone like Antonio. He knows what a pain like the one that Antonio harbours feels like. And he understands, in turn, why it is something that Antonio would not want to talk about.

Yet, he does not stand down. Because unlike him, Antonio is not the sort who recovers and finds peace in solitude; he needs someone, and Arthur, well, truth be told, he was quite surprised when the other turned up on his doorstep. But then, where Francis is involved, perhaps no one should ever really be too surprised…

“Do you ever feel,” Antonio starts to say, eyes still fixed on the outside world, “that you don’t really know someone? Even if you have known them for as long as you can remember?”

Arthur does, and says as much. “Why?” he then asks. “Is that how you feel…?”

And once more, Antonio does not respond. Instead, he finally turns away from the window and moves, walking over to where Arthur sits on a divan and joining him. Arthur does not mind. In fact, he welcomes the other to sit next to him, and does his best to contain himself and the emotions that have, ever since Antonio stepped into his home, been swirling around in his stomach. 

It is difficult to do that, though, he has to admit. Arthur has been harbouring a pain of his own for some time—a pain that he, too, does not want to discuss—and he fears that pain escaping, or worsening in the presence of—

“I thought he loved me,” Antonio says, and he gives a soft, half-hearted laugh. “I thought I loved him, but…”

“…feelings pass,” Arthur tries to placate. He sets his hand down on top of Antonio’s—an action that he is surprised he’s even taken, an instinct rather than an active decision. “They come and go in that funny way, sometimes. And for us, it’s even more complicated; commitment like this is difficult to maintain for long periods of time.”

Antonio sighs. He does not move his hand away. “Sometimes,” he remarks instead, “I wish we did not have to carry this burden of nationhood. I feel so… inhuman. As if we asked for this life, as if we don’t deserve to feel the things our people do…”

“But we do—you do,” Arthur assures him, trying not to tut too loudly. “You aren’t inhuman, Antonio. If anything, you’re one of the most human, considerate, and kind nations I know.”

“Well, now you’re just being polite.”

“No, no, I mean it,” the Brit insists, however. He sits up and looks the other in the face, and this time, Antonio’s gaze does not shy away. “It may sound selfish or vain to say so, but… if anyone deserves love, I think it is us, as nations. Because if we aren’t allowed something so simple yet precious, then what else is there for us? What else will sustain us?"

The other feebly smiles. “War,” he replies, “and bloodshed. Right up until the day we finally die.”

It’s morbid. It’s far too morbid for someone like Antonio, who, as far as Arthur is concerned, normally goes out of his way to avoid talk of such things. Is this the effect of a messy break-up? The argument that has seen Antonio flee and throw himself down at Arthur’s feet, when the Brit can think of a handful of other people he could have gone to…?

Still, what is it they say? About not looking a gift horse in the mouth?

So, he goes on, irrespective of Antonio’s previous comment: 

“Look,” he begins, body turning towards Antonio, who, like a reflection in a mirror, does the same thing; “you’re allowed to be upset. You are allowed to hate him, to feel betrayed, to want nothing to do with him.”

Antonio is not entirely convinced, and says, “So why does it feel like I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Because,” Arthur responds, “you’re simply too nice for your own good.”

“In this day and age, perhaps,” the Spaniard concedes. “Thank you, though. I… suppose I will take that as a compliment of sorts.”

Arthur cracks a smile. “You should,” he firmly believes. 

“So you are complimenting me, then?” 

Arthur’s smile falters; he realises that perhaps he has made himself too obvious and frets, worrying that his own pain may start seeping out, but before he can do or say anything, Antonio has taken the reins. His hand comes now to sit on top of Arthur’s, reversing their positions almost, his fingers so gentle and soft as the brush over the Brit’s skin. 

This is an unexpected turn. Arthur swallows a lump in his throat as he stares at their two hands, and then, when he lifts his gaze, he finds that Antonio appears closer to him than he was moments before. When he moved, he can’t be sure, but— but he is definitely closer, and, if he isn’t mistaken, he is still getting closer, closer, and closer still, until—

"You know, sometimes I miss what you and I used to have, Arthur."

He is stunned, flabbergasted, taken back. "You—" Words lodge in his throat so suddenly he coughs and splutters. "You, uh— Y-You do?"

Antonio's smile returns and his hand creeps up to Arthur's shoulder, before snaking itself slowly around the back of his neck. "I do," he confirms all the while. "We may have our differences here and there, but you… always seemed to understand me, and how to make me happy."

Arthur is glad to hear it. It makes his heart swell, his blood rush, his pain ebb and flow like a waning tide.

"I still could," he finds himself proposing without a second thought, "if you wanted me to."

"Well, I… I mean, I am not looking for something too permanent, you understand," Antonio slowly says, fingers toying with the wisps of Arthur's hair at the nape of his neck just as skillfully as they play his heartstrings. 

"I know," he assures him, nonetheless. "Just tell me what you want—what you need—and I will do my best."

The other gains some colour back to his cheeks, a glint in his eye. "You mean that? For me?"

"Of course. Anything to make you happy," Arthur promises, "and take away your pain."

And maybe at the same time, Arthur can cure his own ailment, even if only temporarily.

[ final wordcount, 1187 words; prompt list here! ]