#particularly fluff

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back. 

so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

#im a lil unsure how to feel abt this piece i feel like it lost its flow pretty quickly 😔👉👈but i rlly did have fun writing it hehe #my baseline for yan!gojo is basically; a kind man who’s so in love w u that he’s willing to compromise his own morals to keep u safe #he’s not particularly possessive or even obsessive?? to him violence really is just . a necessary means to keep u happy #this is almost definitely the only yan piece ill ever write bUT im very fond of this gojo … he’s a tortured little meowmeow <33 #cw yandere #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #tw yandere

[multistoty]

Open to any female muse over 21- in Josie’s med student human verse

Josie Saltzman was a cliche after all and she did not at all mind. What was the universe doing putting her in a group project with a person who could prove god existed with their long hair and high cheekbones? It was tough to not let her inside voice make a dramatic appearance as they hunched over the coffees they had ordered. And the girl was , possibly, the most beautiful creature the onyx haired Saltzman girl had ever seen walking this earth. And her study partner didn’t even seem to know it.She had no clue how beautiful she was or how brightly she shined. What was she supposed to say? That she want to be the friend she fell hopelessly in love with. The one she took into her arms and into her bed and into the private world with which was kept trapped inside her head. The one who will memorize the things she said as well as the shape of her lips when she said them. She wanted to know every curve, every freckle, every shiver of the others body. Love was a real heartless bastard. This was the new world Josie wanted. Not just a girl with a beautiful heart, but a shining soul hidden in the background either. For the first time in her life, the med student was attempting to only juggle herself. No family to keep together or twin sister to keep from mayhem. This was her time to force the quiet parts of her soul become loud enough to be heard. Besides, medicine made a healthy coping of taking care of people. Her coffee stained orbs were pickpockets as they trampled over the woman and time. This was drastically more intimate than necessary. They sat on the same side of the booth close enough to feel labored breaths. Hard as she tries, the melody of their meeting runs through her mind on an endless loop, each time as surprisingly sweet as the last, like a lullaby, like a hymn, and she doesn't think she could ever get tired of hearing it. Most people’s eyes were mirrors showing you what you wanted to see or a perfect representation of themselves. This study date had eyes like windows. Depths without lies. A vulnerability in bravery. God, had she been staring like a creepy man for that long? “You know I much prefer studying with you. My sister used to get us color coded binders and plan down to the minute. And there certainly weren’t pastries. Or a pretty girl- not that my sister isn’t pretty. God, it’s seven am and I have only drank a cup of coffee and I seem drunk.”

#this is so so bad #i lost inspiration #but i need something #particularly fluff #open to anybody #open to all #Open to anything #open to anyone #open #open RP #Open roleplay #open starter #open to everyone #open tvd roleplay #open tvdu rp #open tvdu starter #open tvd starter #open tvd rp #open to non mutuals #open to ocs #open lesbian rp #open legacies rp #open legacies starter #open legacies roleplay #lesbian rp #open lesbian starter

[chiliyue-archived]

cause i love to love, to love, to love you

↬ in which you have him all lovesick and smiles

includes; dazai, chūya, atsushi, fyodor

notes; i am gonna pretend i didn’t disappear for 2-3 months. this has been in my drafts for so long :( i tried to clean it up as much as i could but it’s really old jfjdks

DAZAI

dazai appears happy. present tense.

his typical inquiries for double suicides came to lessen to conscious degree, substituting in drinking sake together when the sun cowers, nothing but a string of nonsensical chatter proceeding each sip.

he was sticky like that: unannounced visits, impromptu phone calls, sudden changes in his schedule to accommodate yours. in any case, he isn’t one to shy from stooping as low as whining if it rewards him with your familiar face.

( his windpipes splinter before he could mutter it out loud, but the solitude that’s wedged deep in his bones for so long felt lighter when you were near. he questions how long such benevolence would last before becoming sullied by his hand… ).

…and yet all things considered, it hasn’t deterred him from courting you nonetheless. at times he can’t help but think he’s taken a bite of his own medicine when he’s the one skipping around like a helpless maiden.

and yet again in spite of it all, his brazenness remains perpetually untouched as ever. he entertains different approaches if only to coax out a new reaction from you and he’s not bashful in the slightest. so much so, he remains unruffled even under the scrutiny of your coworkers.

. . .

“ this is highly unprofessional.”

“ don’t be so mean, bella. don’t you know how much i missed you?”

your eyes flit down to the man currently using your lap as a headrest, the rest of his body stretching over the expanse of the couch. he was shameless, that much was certain, but his ability to remain unperturbed whilst in his lovey dovey state was impressive. you cocked a brow, sighing.

“ osamu.” his lips visually twitched at the call of his name; it’s a word warm on your tongue but leaves the hairs on his nape at your mercy anyway. " you saw me fifteen minutes ago—”

“ twenty.” he corrected, cheeky (and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled that number out his ass). “ but it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.”

he was unrepentant as ever, experimentally positioning his head to rest on the plush on your thighs. by muscle memory, he began to absently draw shapes wherever he could reach, a crude rendition of stars decorating over the bend of your knee.

he smiles innocently when you squint at him, the gleam in his eyes unwavering. “ only a couple more minutes and i would have been yours,” you mutter out, your voice not as sturdy as you hoped. “ at home.”

dazai almost turns pouty at that. almost. “ but my love, i’ve missed you like crazy. twenty minutes is too long, how can i possibly manage?” the words come out through a breathy exhale and you watch as his lashes kiss his cheeks when he flutters them closed. “ all i could think about is you. and now i have you right here.” he hopes his words carry as much truth as the way his heart does, scurrying away the cold that's mocked him for so long. “ can’t we just stay like this a little longer? pretty please?”

resigned to your fate, you could only clamor your palms over your features— if only to salvage your waning dignity from your coworkers.

unfortunate though… that in doing so you miss the blissful smile curling on his lips as he peeks at you from below. and atsushi notes(after throughly grimacing, not expecting him to be so blunt), it reaches his eyes too.

CHŪYA

" chūya-"

" you can't flirt with me. i have a partner."

terse, stubborn and slurred. if the groggy voice wasn’t enough to confirm your suspicions, the shit-face look belonging to your boyfriend did. he was drunk. wasted if you were to speak bluntly.

in truth, it really doesn’t come off as much of a surprise; his ability to hold his liquor was nothing to brag of (despite what he may profusely argue) and you’re half-convinced he’s already forgotten his own name.

still, you don’t loosen your grip on his sleeve even under the figurative holes he’s burned with his stare. “ chūya. i am your partner.”

“you—! wha-!” his voice erupts into a sudden warble, eyes akin to saucers. " you… you are??"

he takes what’s left of his thinning rationality to study you proper; the style of your hair, your clothing, the smell of perfume/cologne, the familiar quirk of your lips—

oh, he thinks as you push back the loose bangs veiling his face. he doesn’t make any attempts to move, feet stalled and eyes blinking, evidently stunned.

you decide to press on. “ do i look familiar now…?” the lilit of your voice grazes against his ear, plucking out a faint memory tucked somewhere in the crevice of his fuzzy head.

oh. he thinks twice, the stern look bruising his face thawing.

without realizing it, he squares his shoulders in any attempt to remedy his current disheveled appearance, slumped posture pulled taut in— what he hopes— was a more put together frame. conversely, he wobbles on his feet when you continue to eat away at the distance, the ghost of your touch pushing pinpricks into his skin.

“ you’re- you’re really all mine…?” he cringes as soon as it leaves his mouth, coming off eager and hopeful. something like a laugh escapes you and he can’t tell if that’s what made his stomach turn or the alcohol. perhaps both.

“ that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. you’re so stubborn when you’re drunk.” you punctuate the words with a kiss to his cheek, now warm with revelation. chūya, exhausting the last bits of his energy, shrinks beneath it, a gloved hand clutching his reddened face defensively.

“ why haven’t i made you my spouse yet?” he remarks it so suddenly, you nearly choke on air. he can’t even comprehend what you say thereafter or register the look beginning to contort your features, nothing but liquid courage keeping him afloat.

but- well, if there’s anything the haze trotting his head and his thinning cognition could agree on, it’s that your ring finger appears a little too barren for his liking.

( but not for much longer, he hopes )

ATSUSHI

the sudden change in atsushi’s behavior was a notable observation within the ADA, many of whom watched as the weretiger became stupefied by a face belonging to you. it wasn’t long before concluding it was all the result of a crush; the culprit of which being atsushi himself who played his hand poorly at discretion.

the lovesick chatter would leave his mouth without much rationality, waxing of "[name] this" or "[name] that," and effectively becoming on the receiving end of his praises. it was almost a routine of sorts, occupied by stutters, belated responses and his fidgety footfalls. by the end of it, he fruitlessly attempts to steady his rabbiting heart— if only to stop his blush from staining beyond his cheeks.

even now as he silhouettes by the agency door, the rattle of rain is deafened by the rush of blood to his ears. he anxiously worries the handle of the umbrella in his palms, bouncing from one sole of his feet to the other. should he just ask you? maybe he should wait… now that he thinks about it would be more appropriate to just leav—

“ damn it.” he perks at your sound of displeasure, his heart spiking. “ so much for leaving in a hurry…” you stiffen, realizing you have nothing but a coat protect you from the weather. the flimsy jacket you hurriedly plucked from your wardrobe only added flavor to your disappointment.

atsushi doesn’t miss the opportunity; his feet carries him to you before the unpleasant voice lurking deep in his subconscious bullies him otherwise. “ we can share,” he gestures to his own, silently praying his voice was leveled. it wobbles anyway and by now his knuckles are sheen white as a product of his nerves.

with the organ jumping around in his chest, he almost doesn’t register your ‘thank you,’ only that his fingers were quickly undoing the straps of the umbrella before you could change your mind ( he impulsively bought it earlier that day— his previous pair worned out and far too tiny for two people. but when you thank him with a kind smile, hands slightly brushing with each step, he argues it was the best 800 yen he’s ever spent ).

… that said, a more appropriate question is how you managed to remain naive to all his pining for so long— he’s become despairingly obvious against his own good and yet he can’t find it in himself to change himself, a perpetual lovesick look copy and pasted whenever you entered his proximity.

the same can't be said to everyone else however and he wasn’t particularly pleased when he caught wind of the bets exchanged among his treacherous colleagues. he fears it's only a matter of time before one of them blabs their tongue to you. at this rate, perhaps one of them should.

. . .

" y'know atsushi," ranpo once said, offering his companion a gleaming simper. " you reallllyyy talk about [name] a lot."

"oh.”

his heart flutters, eyes slowly blinking.

" yeah,” he smiles. “ i guess i do.”

FYODOR

" you've been awfully quiet, my dear." fyodor’s voice was just loud enough over the sound of clashing cutlery, fixing you a gaze of genuine interest. " is the meal not to your liking?"

you feel your lips twist into a frown. for being attentive, he (for once) falsely saunters pass the source of your displeasure, failing to recognize the extent of your internal woes. " no- no-" you fidget with your fingers, ignoring the way your propped elbows skidded against the table. the behaviour doesn't go unnoticed by the former, who takes it upon himself to hook his index fingers with yours. “ there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask of you. a… request of sorts.”

“ what is it? i’ll have it shipped to you by the end of the week,” he offers generously though it quickly fades into a confused hum when you shake your head at the proposition.

" it isn’t something you can buy…” you drop your gaze from him to the scantly poked portions of cuisine on your plate. fearing he may misinterpret your words and assume it to be unattainable - perhaps gifting you something ludicrous as a piece of land - you amended quickly. " it’s not what you assume to be either.”

at that, he bums questioningly. “ then what displeases you, my darling?” he provides a faint squeeze to your hand, igniting something warm and paradoxical to his thin layer of frigid skin. “ what can i offer to rid you that frown?”

" just your company.”

" my company?"

" yes." perplexed, he cocks his head; an invitation. willing an inhale to your lungs, you took a moment to gather possession of your words. “ these days you've been rather occupied. i was hoping for perhaps… if we may spend some time together?"

fyodor appears vaguely surprised by that, something unfamiliar fortifying around him. requesting his time felt like a hefty expenditure just in itself and it wasn’t too far fetched to assume he’ll disregard it in favor of some plot embellishing deep within his brain. but a swift refusal never comes.

“ i see,” he finally says after a brief pause. his voice was so soft you wondered if it was meant for you to hear.

it's grows quiet before he speaks again, the fingers curled around your hand withdrawing but not before providing the tips a delicate squeeze. " i can arrange some time tomorrow for you,” he proffers. “ will that satisfy your request, myshka?"

hardly anything can catch fyodor off guard, but something had to be said in the way you brightened at the suggestion, a deep curve coasting over your lips. how pleasant you are.

" yes," you hastily replied, dipping your head slightly. " more than perfect. thank you."

the way your lineaments crossed into a smile was always enduring to observe — exasperated, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow knowing he was the cause for such elation.

( idly, he wonders what he can do to see it again ).

A/N !

i’ve been meaning to post this for months but it’s so old & i never quite (and still kinda don’t) liked it :(( fyodor’s is bit ooc jfjdkskla

彡 [BSD m.list]

taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandiss @4nthonyyliving @guacamoleroll @sunnyx07 @shiopi

join or be removed here

#¡! ❞ sincerely rora #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #atsushi x reader #fyodor x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #atsushi fluff #fyodor fluff #bsd fluff #bsd x y/n #i don’t remember how to tag things 🥹 #i’m so nervous posting this. i’m lil ready to cry a bit . this isn’t particularly great but it’s been in my drafts long enough #idk if it’s obvious but i kinda gave up on fyodor’s & dazais parts. it gave me major headaches #i feel like these would have been so much better if i had dedicated a fic individual jfjdksk #kunikida was originally part of this line up. but the draft was beyond redeemable. #i was tempted to remove chuuyas part as well but i think i manage to make it decent?? #dazai is so long. my favoritism is showing ha ha h a

[spideyhexx]

soft coryo coming home after a long day and just hugging you tightly for a good few minutes, not saying anything but just holding you close to him. and after a few minutes, he just gives you the softest kiss and then a “i missed you so much,” in the sweetest and softest voice ever.

this makes me think about our modern law student coryo :(

who had a late class that ended up going a little later because he needed to talk to the professor and the professor already ran the class later, so he’s not in a good mood at all, and he feels bad for being later for your sake!

Because he knows you like the whole bedtime routine the two of you have and sometimes it gets messed up cause of his work/classes. When he gets to your apartment, you’re making yourself like tea or maybe a small snack and you go to acknowledge him but he just hugs you from behind immediately, making sure your body is snug to his, and he’s quiet.

You know him enough to know what’s going on, so you quietly continuing making your tea/sipping it whatever you’re doing in the kitchen while he holds you tightly. Eventually, he kisses right behind your ear, whispering, “missed you so much today,” then he nudges hide nose in your ear, trailing more soft kisses to your cheek, hugging you tighter.

sharing your little snack with him because he had a small dinner :( and Coryo, even though he’s tired and just annoyed with his day, he still makes the effort to care for you as much as you’re doing for him.

#modernasks #coryoasks #is this too ooc #idk why I’m questioning it #it feels very ooc and it’s bothering my brain but this is also how I normally think of modern coryo😭 #like established relationship modern coryo particularly sigh #I feel like modern coryo has canon coryo’s better traits even MORE at least that’s how I enjoy interpreting it😔 #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow blurb #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine

[crowfeatherquill]

The Joker is a Shitty Clown

Honestly, this one's just a bit of fun. There's a post floating around somewhere about the Joker getting chased down by a bunch of professional clowns wearing his makeup because he never submitted an egg to the...clown...council (I don't know that it's actually called the clown council). This is semi-related to that.

--

“The Joker is a shitty clown.”

When he says it, the room falls silent. Deathly, even, by some estimates, although those could be classified as a tad dramatic. Jason stares, speechless. Damian does not appear to have noticed that anything is wrong. Tim is the first to speak.

“Do...you want to elaborate on that?”

Dick seems to realize in that moment that the non-sequitur has landed him right at the center of a very dense emotional minefield. He considers that acrobatics run in his family. He considers further that so do unfortunate acrobatic accidents. He chooses his next words carefully.

“I mean first of all he’s not even funny, and that’s, like. Rule one. No clown I ever met had to drug people to get them to laugh at their jokes.”

Realization dawns over Jason’s face like a storm breaking and Tim, diplomatically, chooses not to comment on the way he bites the inside of his cheek to try and fight a smile. He figures it’s fine to let Dick sweat a little over this particular topic -- after all, the Joker is a pretty big sore spot for about half the room, and Dick is not generally so quick to shove his foot all the way down his own throat.

Unsure of his standing and desperate not to lose it, Dick presses on.

“And beyond that, he doesn’t have a gimmick. He doesn’t have a character. There’s no consistency, it’s just...chaos. Which I’ve only seen done well maybe once and to be honest it’s so much extra work and for a beginner, I just- I dunno, it seems like a bad move-”

Jason can’t quite keep back a snort. He tries to cover it with a cough, but Dick knows exactly what the sound means. Jason, smartly, does not attempt eye contact. He prefers to leave the manor on his own terms, and with some of his pride still intact.

“Beginner. Unbelievable…” Tim mutters, but even so he finds himself intrigued. He hadn’t realized Dick had such strong opinions about clowns, although he’s not sure why he’s surprised, given the whole circus-kid thing.

Dick, sensing victory is close at hand, leans forward to deliver what he hopes will be the final blow.

“I’ll bet he doesn’t even know about clown college.”

This is not quite enough to break Jason’s iron will, but it’s a close thing, and Tim affords himself a wry smile. He’s always been the easier of the two of them when it comes to Dick’s antics. 

Dick preens in that self-satisfied big brother way that only he can ever seem to pull off and leans back in his chair.

“Once. Just once I’d like to see that hack do an actual routine.”

“For all his glaring faults, I am forced to concede that the howling menace does appear to have grasped one pillar of the art,” Damian says, primly, looking up from what he’s reading.

Tim raises a questioning eyebrow, and Dick tilts his head, taking on the humor-them expression he wears when he thinks he knows better than his younger siblings. Jason still looks inches away from another untimely death and is therefore ill-equipped to respond in any way that isn’t rigid denial of the near convulsive way his shoulders are shaking.

“Oh? And what’s that, Dami,” Dick prompts, and if he wasn’t so sickenly good-hearted it would almost sound patronizing.

Damian looks at Jason, eyes boring into him like little green needles until Jason meets his gaze. His expression does not change when he speaks.

“Slapstick.”

There is a moment of silence so complete you could hear a pin drop from the other side of the manor. And then Jason is howling with laughter, and Tim can’t help but laugh too because holy shit, and Dick is sitting dumbfounded in his chair, gaping at their youngest brother, who merely gives an imperceptible twitch of the corner of his mouth and returns to his book.

#batman #batfamily #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #robins being robins #brothers fucking with each other #y'know #fluff #and not even particularly accurate fluff this is purely goofs for the sake of goofs

[rorja]

synopsis. you, suguru, and a window left open— or, the soothing lullaby of springtime.

a/n. very much self-indulgent and probably with a lot of mistakes (be patient please, i’ll correct it first thing in the morning!) but i really needed to write a moment of peace after a troubling week…….. also, i’ve been very sick and this is my first attempt at writing after a long time so i apologize if it’s not that good TT — 🐣

it was comforting, watching the thin but sturdy branches of the plum tree stretching to the glittering dots adorning the sky. regulus's fiery mane moving delicately as the evening breeze's note echoed in the air. waking up every sleeping blossom, cradling in a motherly embrace each of its sons and daughters that were yet to be awakened.

spring. where your eyes landed you could spot significant signs of its long awaited arrival, from the night sky to the grass steadily growing inches in your neighborhood's garden. it made a smile bloom on your lips, the same way pink and whiteish buds littered every branch of the plum trees.

you traced the astronomical asterism one more time, drawing an imaginary line that connected the three luminous stars of the evenings to come. an invisible triangle that linked arcturus with spica, just to finish on the other side of the sky and meet with the last component of the brightly lit trio: regulus. many people (and internet. mostly internet) would argue with power points at hand and scientific theories that the white star of denebola was a better choice than regulus. more suited to close the imaginary triangle, resulting in a nearly equilateral one at the price of brightness.

but you didn't care. that place belonged to regulus because that is what you saw the first time you used a telescope. and no one could've made you change your mind, of that you were sure. stubborn just as much over something that wasn't even real but dear to you.

your chest danced slightly— a breathy chuckle finding its way out as you eventually lifted your growing aching arms from the windowsill.

(you know a person who would've found that stubborness of yours endearing.)

a yawn parted your lips and the door cracked open. it had been a long day— a long week even, for both of you of course. but this time around it had been particularly rough for suguru. he was the one to come home with an aching back and tired limbs, though it was not that hard to see how fatigue latched on his body. a voracious snake that found a comfortable nest in between his chest, refusing to leave him alone.

it was the main reason as to why dinner was made a little earlier today and the dishes were left on the counter to dry for the night. you will put them back in the respective cupboard tomorrow as the first thing in the morning. for tonight, you decided to prioritize your rest.

it was also the reason why suguru took a longer-than-usual shower and got out of it only now. the noticeable difference in his shoulders made relief bloom in your chest— no more slumped, or a tad bit droopy but instead relieved, back to their natural stance as if the weight holding them down had been lifted. a minuscule change that probably would have gone unnoticed by others.

he walked toward the bed, phone steady in one hand while typing an answer to satoru and ieiri. it was easy to tell who suguru was writing to. you noticed overtime that when he texted the two of them he wiggled his nose a lot and (if gojo ended up saying something stupid or sending weird memes) his frown lines became more wrinkled, like a child trying to comprehend the meaning of a new word. it was adorable.

you followed his steps, raising the duvets and moving away the excessive amount of pillows on your side of the bed. suguru did the same on his own half.

"satoru giving you a hard time?" a breathy chuckle. he didn't answer, simply shaking his head in resignation and placing the phone on his bedside table before collapsing on the bed with a content exhale. you took that as a sign to join him.

"just satoru being satoru," you didn't fail to notice how his eyes softened when looking at you, "i think yuji should stop teaching him about internet slangs. he's been doing the deez nuts thing for two weeks already"

though there were traces of hopelessness heavily lingering on his words, you couldn't help but notice something else— something that you recognized immediately after as fondness. a familiar feeling that he reserved only for the few people he truly cared about. you didn't even try to stop the laughter bubbling in your chest.

(suguru watched as your eyes crinkled in amusement. the sound of your laughter lulling him to further relieve- soothing away every stubborn trace of stress still sitting heavy in his bones.

spring waltzed from the opened window, attracted by your presence. he couldn't blame it; you were the spring he eagerly looked forward to seeing each day.)

when your laugh eventually dimmed, his phone lightened up with new messages to read. suguru retrieved it and you did the same with yours, wordlessly shifting in a comfortable lull and a familiar embrace. a satisfied hum broke momentarily the blanket of silence falling on the room when you felt his free arm around your shoulders. fingers playing absentmindedly with the strands of your hair, messily splayed on the pillow.

you nuzzled closer to his chest, your cheek now resting on the thin fabric of his white shirt he had been recently using to sleep with. phone clasped in one of your hands while you scrolled mindlessly through the feed of your favorite social media.

and it's gentle. serene. a moment of shared complicity that carried the veiled scent of blossoming flowers and stardust. a needed addition to the relationship that brought somehow a welcomed sense of mundanity.

when suguru eventually fell asleep first, his chin resting on top of your head, you didn't have it in yourself to get up and close the window. too pleasant, too cozy to even entertain the thought of leaving it for a few seconds. you will close it tomorrow, first thing in the morning. as of tonight, you'll let yourself be cradled by the sweet lullaby happening outside that very same window.

(suguru's arms never felt so much like home before.)

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #anime x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto x you #jjk geto #geto fluff #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto x y/n #suguru fluff #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #getou x reader #i really should stop writing at almost 3 in the morning……….. it’s becoming unbearable lmao #anyway #i miss my beautiful wife geto suguru so much #i’m not particularly proud about this one because i feel like i could’ve done better #like. really better #it seems like i can’t write anything but fluff for this man

[owlyflufff]

Keiji always knew Koutaoru has a gentle touch.

He isn't foreign to the callouses and marks that etched along his partner's fingers. His high school years informed him much that his star could send spike after spike relentlessly, the sound resonating throughout a gym, arena even if Bokuto was eager enough. There on the sidelines he'd look over to see Bokuto sending in the most obnoxious high five, wishing the unfortunate soul that would be on the receiving end of Bokuto's "pat" to the back a get well soon and seen how enthusiastic Bokuto's every movements have been over the years he's known him.

However, Keiji knows just how gentle Koutarou's touch had always been.

For those very same hands were the ones that welcomed him warmly when he first joined Fukurodani's volleyball team. Those same eager movements so easily passed and shared food to him from his bento box. Such hands offered him kindness Keiji didn't think he should hold when his thoughts started to overrun him.

They wrapped bandages around his fingers from careless mistakes and hasty injuries, they hugged his own fingers tight and offered warmth when Akaashi's own fingers were surrounded in cold. Such movements held him close when he sobbed, fingers interlaced as the curtains closed on their last match and they offered their goodbye to the court.

If Keiji can trace along his skin, he could trace the fondest memory of Bokuto quietly reaching for his hands, looking him in the eyes and telling him the most earnest words with the stars being their only witness, an earnest I love you.

By then Koutarou's touch had only grown more gentle, stolen touches underneath the table during group dinners, merely sitting side by side a bench or finding comfort in sharing a bed and finding rest in each other's presence.

Keiji always knew Koutaoru has a gentle touch.

And as he watched from the distance, there is something to be said about how small and fragile a young child's hand could be as it reached out for Koutarou's own. The little kid jumped and hollered, bouncing as it requested for Koutarou to teach him how to spike once more. If anything Koutarou was surrounded by numerous children, all running and prodding to learn volleyball that their eagerness almost had Koutarou being swept up in their tidal wave of unbridled energy.

A reflection of who Koutarou once was, a reflection of who Koutarou still is regardless of all the years that have passed.

It makes Keiji laugh.

It makes Keiji smile.

It makes Keiji cry, almost.

He watches on as Koutarou eagerly but carefully guides those children, positioning their arms and rubbing their heads over a successful spike, hands so full of care and love that Keiji could never feel so deserving of it even now.

Keiji always knew Koutarou has a gentle touch, and in turn he wants to offer all those in kind. Offer his support, his care, his love really to the man that had left him speechless since day one. To the man who still leaves him speechless with all the children he's surrounded by.

And as Keiji stands up from the bleachers and makes his way over to Koutarou and the kids, there's he would offer Koutarou his own gentle touch, with one hand holding Koutarou's own and the other holding a ring from behind with the promise of forever.

#bokuaka thoughts on mind <33 #timeskip particularly uuuu #keiji being fond and yearning for his partner even though they're married #keiji just losing it when he sees bokuto with kids #also I'm very inconsistent with who I think proposed or asked for the other's hand in marriage first xD #but it's always more fun this way! #bokuaka #bokuaka fluff #bokuto #akaashi #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #haikyu!! #haikyuu!! #haikyu #hq #also yes this is inspired by the official art of Bokuto teaching kids volleyball!

[mrsbakashi]

Hi. I hope you're still taking request. Can I request 😤 headcanons for kakashi and fem!reader from the emoji prompt? I hope you have a nice day 😘

hi, chii! bet you didn't remember you had requested this, but i finally did it! and i hope you like it 💕

😤: a jealousy headcanon - kakashi

kakashi takes pride in not being jealous. he’s usually rational and never lets his emotions get the best of him – even when and if he feels jealous, for whatever reason, he’s strong enough not to do anything about it;

there are a few times he can’t be much rational, though, and of course, they all involve you;

it was ridiculous, because you two weren’t dating, and you were nothing but friends — no, not even that; you were simple colleagues, acquaintances or whatever. and that was the reason you were so damn angry all the time. because you had all that energy, all that longing for him and nowhere to put it. your whole body aching to be close to him, and you having to deal with seeing him every day without throwing yourself at him, and it's been like that for years now;

you felt like a teenager to be honest, with the stares from across the room, the lingering touches, the racy heart when his name was mentioned — and he had to know. he had to. and he did. and that’s where the problem lived.

kakashi liked you. he cared deeply about you, you were his first thought in the morning and last thought at night, and he wasn’t stupid or oblivious, he had noticed how you blushed whenever you two talked, how you laughed harder trying to get his attention when you were in the same room, and the way your eyes were always on him when you thought he couldn’t see you – he knew, and he wished he could do something about it, but he couldn’t.

you see, kakashi had lost everyone he had ever cared for, and he knew that the destiny of the people that he let in wasn’t good – they either ended up dead or hurt, and it was unfair to put someone through that when he could easily prevent that from happening.

kakashi knew you deserved better – you were too lovely to be stuck with someone like him. you lit up any room you entered, lightened up the mood, made everyone feel at ease, no matter what they were going through, and he was no exception to that power of yours. he cherished you, loved being around you. you were like this giant ball of sunshine, warmth and happiness, and it was impossible to feel unhappy around you. but he knew you deserved better. you deserved an actual chance at being happy, so he’d keep the distance and only enjoy your presence by far.

what he didn’t know, of course, was that you had no interest in anyone else whatsoever – and who was to blame you? who was better than the freaking copynin? no one. that’s why you had your mind set on proving he was the one you wanted.

you knew why he was reluctant; it was obvious, and it broke your heart to know that he felt this way, but that only made you feel more determined. you weren’t lucky, but you sure was fierce, and you knew he had to like you, at least a little tiny tiny bit, you felt it! and yes, you could be wrong, but sometimes life is about taking risks.

it was at a party that it all went down. anko’s birthday party.

people drinking, singing, dancing, loud music, colorful lights and probably more people than the place could and should fit. it seemed like everyone was there; not a single soul was missing – even kakashi was there. you knew he probably came with gai and he would stay for about ten minutes and then leave when he thought no one else was paying attention, as usual. but maybe tonight could go a little different;

you were wearing a little tiny red dress you had bought with kurenai two weeks ago for this exact party, your head straight into the mission of making it impossible for kakashi to take his eyes off of you — and from the way you saw him looking at you the second you walked through the door, mission accomplished;

you wanted to talk to him, but didn’t want to seem too desperate, and you didn’t know how long you were supposed to wait before approaching him casually and ask about his day and if he was enjoying the party, but you figured a few minutes should do.

so you would see who was around, drink something, recognize which song was playing, maybe watch him from the corner where you were pretty sure he couldn’t see you... and then someone popped into your field of vision and touched your arm. “hey, beautiful”.

you replied with a polite smile and the man invited you to dance – you figured there was no harm in dancing a little, in fact it would be better, giving you a little more time to stay away from kakashi and then act like you didn’t come to the party because of him only. i mean, happy birthday anko and all, sure, but let’s be real.

so you followed the man to the dance floor with a careful smile never leaving your face, then it all happened at once, but in slow motion at the same time – the man placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close, almost too close in your opinion, but he was harmless, you thought. you moved your hips to the beat of the song when you felt his left hand snaking through your body, and then there was another hand circling your wrist and pulling you away from that man’s grip. “sorry, i need to talk to her, it’s urgent” kakashi excused himself while the man nodded;

kakashi held your hand firmly as you walked through the sea of people and headed to the back of the club, away from the noise, ending up in the parking lot.

“is everything okay?” you asked, alarmed by his unusual acting

“yeah, just... give me a second.”

you remained silent, even though there were a million questions bubbling on your mind – and about half of them started with “will you please kiss me?”.

kakashi’s eyes wandered through the whole parking lot before stopping on you, and he watched you carefully as he said “i’m sorry”.

you had no idea why he was apologizing, but you started to say your automatic response to the words ‘i’m sorry’, which were “no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you regretted the words the second they left your lips, because now you missed the chance to ask what he was sorry for.

but none of you moved. instead, you stayed there, staring at each other, in that awkward silence filled by the distant sounds that came from the club.

“a-are you okay?” you asked again, finally breaking the unbearable silence.

“i should be, right?”

“oh, kashi, what’s wrong?” there was authentic concern in your voice, enough to make kakashi feel even worse.

he shook his head. “i pulled you away from him, and i was filled with this urge, as if i had any right to- and i didn’t. i don’t. i’m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry ab... wait, i’m sorry, what?”

“you see, i can handle a lot, but seeing someone else’s hands all over your body isn’t on the list. and the way he was looking at you, and this damn dress, and i just..." he took a deep breath before continuing, "i’m sorry, ok? let’s just go back inside. i didn’t mean to ruin the party for you”

“wait” you open a smile at the sudden realization. “you were jealous.”

kakashi snorted, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“you were, weren’t you?”

“yes. now let’s go back inside.”

“why? so i can dance with other men and have their hands all over my body until you pull me back to this parking lot?”

“that’s not happening again, i already said i’m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry abo- damn it!!”

you heard Kakashi chuckle and that put a big smile on your face.

“i don’t want to go back inside.”

kakashi closed his eyes, realizing he now would have to deal with the consequences of his own actions. if he could go back in time, he would have left the party the second you passed through the front door with that ridiculously sexy dress. there would be no trouble. he wouldn’t have seen that man’s hands on your body, he wouldn’t have pulled you away, he wouldn’t be with you in this parking lot now, admitting to you he was jealous while you had too much fun with the fact and he fought the urge to have his own hands all over your body. now he had to convince you to go back to the party and completely avoid you for the rest of his life because now you knew he had feelings for you. fuck.

“it’s your call, but i think anko might be missing your presence.” he tried.

“uh, i highly doubt that. but even if it were true, i’d rather be here with you.”

kakashi sighed.

“look,” you touched his hand to get his attention “i know you’re probably struggling internally right now because you want me to go away and i don’t want to go away – also, i will not go away -, and i know you feel guilty and cursed because of what happened in the past, but-"

“please-”

“i was there!" you interrupted him before he could start his 'go away' speech. "i was there and i saw you! it was impossible to get to you. it still is! i’ve been trying for forever to reach you! and you can’t tell me to get lost or that i don’t know anything, because i. was. there. and i’m not just some random girl. i saw you. i see you.”

he tried to say something, but there was nothing in his mind that fit the situation. he spent years pushing people away, to the point everyone developed a new dynamic to interact with him, and they were all used to it. kakashi was never around much; kakashi was always on missions; kakashi was always reading something instead of talking to people. and no one ever said anything about it, not even gai. and it wasn’t because they didn’t care, but it was because kakashi vanished at the slightest mention of his past. but when you said it, it wasn’t like that. it made him feel cared for, a feeling he thought he’d never feel again.

“it wasn’t your fault. and you deserve love. you deserve it, damn it!”

you were looking into his eye, and for the first time in forever, kakashi felt seen. it was like you could see everything that was in his soul and more. and you had never looked so beautiful. so, before he had time to think and regret, he pulled his mask down and kissed you with all the yearning and aching he had been holding, like you were the answer to all of his problems, the light he didn’t know he had been longing for. and he didn’t stop, not when you smiled and unwillingly broke the kiss, and definitely not when you let out a little moan and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer while you stood on your tiptoes.

“wow!” you blurted, the biggest smile on your face when he finally broke the kiss, only so you two could get some air.

kakashi didn’t let go of you; his hands were still holding you in place by the waist, forehead resting against yours, his breath mixing with yours. he wouldn’t let you go. now that he finally had you, he wouldn’t let you go.

“i hadn’t seen this handsome face in a long time…” you cupped his face, and he leaned in at the touch. “hi.”

“hi.” he smiled, like he was greeting a very old friend, which he was in fact. it had been easy to forget how close you two were in the past, before it all happened, before he shut down.

you kissed him again, just to make sure he was really there, and he was – there, kissing you back. it was like a dream, like one of the many you’ve had before. you’d be so pissed if you’d wake up in half an hour alone in bed, with only the memory of the dream to get you through the day.

“so, um, i guess we should go back inside now. i think someone probably noticed we both have disappeared...” you said as you reached his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers, ready to walk back to the club.

“i don’t know how to put this in a polite way, but i don’t give a shit.”

his words caught you off guard and you laughed harder than you should’ve.

“no, you don’t understand, mr. hatake” you continued, “i still have to dance with at least three other men.”

his grip on your waist got tighter.

“i don’t want to be this kind of guy, but i don’t care if you promised to dance with three other men or with the hokage himself, you’re not going.”

“oh, no, but it’s very important!” you pleaded, trying to hold a laugh. “please!”

“y/n, what’s going on?”

“nothing, it’s just that since you were jealous and we’ve established that you now have, in fact, the right to do whatever you feel like… i was just wondering what would your jealous self do to me this time, if you caught me in another man's arms...” you bit your lower lip, looking up at him from behind your lashes.

kakashi let out a crooked smile as he pulled you even closer. "i have a pretty good idea how that would go."

guess you were about to find out.

kakashi's taglist: @smutteedreams @justmyownreality @nightingaleflow @allyallygator @thetimelesschild @jyotsna-d @rocknrollsoul76 @crimsonxuchiha @hellogec @savsxz @slut-4sasuke

fill this out to join my taglist

© MRSBAKASHI / MRSBAKASHI 2023 - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY OR PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT AND POST ON THIS WEBSITE OR DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

#particularly i like this one because i wish i could look kakashi in the eye and say 'YOU DESERVE LOVE GODDAMN IT!' #and then throw myself at him #'i don't care i'm your problem now' #anyway #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfic #naruto fanfic #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hcs #kakashi headcanons #request #mine #my man #chii #kakashi fluff #could i have added smut on this? yes i coulda #but i was thinking maybe that's for another story #or not who knows #bye

[prettysquishygirl]

The second chapter of All the small things, an ineffable husbands fanfic post season two of Good Omens which seems to be entirely about two idiots talking about and clearly wanting kisses and agreeing to feed the ducks.

But they do snog in the trees this time. And there is talk of the flat.

Favourite two lines below:

"We appear to have tripped."

"You appear to have pushed me up against a tree," said Crowley. "I am not complaining."

#good omens #fanfic #aziraphale #crowley #crowley/aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #fluff #smut #angst #silliness #ducks #I swear if I can spend time writing these then nothing else is particularly useful!

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

Preview for Ch. 3 of Jealous Jester

*Drops this and runs away*

Ragatha turned around when she heard her girlfriend let out a small groan.

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?” The doll asked as she made her way to where the jester was seated on the bed.

“Mmn, something got in my eye I think,” Pomni responded while still rubbing at her face with her head down.

“Does it hurt?” Ragatha’s voice was now laced with concern. She quickly kneeled down. “Can I take a look?”

As she got closer to inspect whatever was bothering the jester, Ragatha found some humor with the way their height difference had changed. With Pomni on her bed and the ragdoll’s knees on the ground, Ragatha now had to be the one to tilt her head up. 

She hovered her hands close to the younger woman’s face, careful not to touch her yet.

“May I, Pom-Pom?” She asked softly. 

Pomni nodded, her right eye nearly closed shut. Having been granted permission, Ragatha finally settled her hands gently on her girlfriend’s cheeks. The doll leaned herself even closer and used her thumb to delicately stroke the eyelid, encouraging it to open for her and show what was underneath. 

And what was underneath…

…was nothing. 

Nothing about the eye looked irritated at all. The sclera was white and clear of debris. There weren’t even any tears. 

Confused, Ragatha backed away a few inches and realized that Pomni’s pretty pinwheels had flickered forward to make direct eye contact. She caught a glimpse of the sly smile that had curled on the jester’s face before feeling hands come up to clutch the front of her dress and quickly pull her forward. The ragdoll let out a surprised squeak when she felt her lips suddenly collide with her girlfriend’s. 

It took Ragatha a brief moment to register what was happening before she let her eye flutter close as Pomni leaned even further into the kiss with a slight tilt of her head. The doll melted against the jester with a quiet moan. She then felt Pomni’s hands move to her back, wrapping both arms around Ragatha’s shoulders to bring her even closer. 

The two savored the sweet moment they were sharing together, letting everything else around them disappear for a few minutes. Ragatha could feel Pomni smiling into the kiss, and it made her do the same. She could have stayed as they were forever with no complaints, but to her mild disappointment, Pomni’s face peeled away from hers. Ragatha was oh so tempted to pull her back in. It would have been easy with how her hands were cradling the jester’s face, but she knew better. 

Although the need for air was inconsequential, Ragatha couldn’t help but let out a series of small breaths to clear her head and cool her heated face. Pomni looked equally flushed but was wearing a triumphant smirk. Her mouth was now painted with the lipstick mark that always resulted from kissing the ragdoll, an obnoxious little feature of the Circus that the two were still getting used to. The jester appeared fully satisfied with herself, and the doll took notice of how her pupils had changed into hearts again.

With her mind still a little foggy after what just happened, Ragatha blinked questioningly up at Pomni before letting out an airy chuckle.

“Did you just steal a kiss by tricking me?” An amused smile of her own had made its way onto her face. 

The jester playfully stuck out her tongue and winked her perfectly unbothered eye, sending the doll into a fit of girlish giggles.

“Sorry~,” Pomni said while not looking apologetic at all. “I had to get you closer to my face somehow, Aggie.”

Ragatha recalled the strange way her girlfriend had been looking up at her during their embrace. If Pomni had tried being any less subtle about what she wanted from the taller woman, she would’ve stood on her toes. The doll blushed, embarrassed for not having picked up on the obvious hint.

“Silly,” Ragatha tittered, glancing away for just a moment while trying to tuck away some of her hair. “You could have just asked me to bend over.”

Something in the way Pomni’s eyes became slightly lidded as she bit down on her lower lip sent a small jolt up her spine that made her blush harder. But whatever it was that the jester was thinking in that half second was shaken away with a few blinks.

“I-I guess I just wanted to surprise you,” she said after clearing her throat, now looking a little bashful.

Ragatha was beyond charmed by these brief bursts of bravado that allowed her girlfriend to be more playful. She didn’t think it was possible to feel even more enamored for the woman she held in her hands. 

“Well color me surprised, Pom-Pom,” the doll whispered while lightly settling her forehead against the jester’s, noticing her shyness melting away.

“Good to know,” Pomni whispered back, then gave her a little wiggle of her brows. “But how about you color me instead?”

The doll felt her own brows shoot straight up at the unexpected comeback, before bursting out in laughter. The jester joined her, both leaning against each other and chortling away until they eventually came down from their moment of mirth. Ragatha leaned back to wipe away a tear and watched as Pomni rubbed the back of her cap n bells.

“Sorry,” she apologized after letting out a few stray chuckles, looking pink. “That was kind of a dumb thing to say, wasn’t it?”

Ragatha cupped Pomni’s face with both hands again. “Not at all.” She gave away the last of her giggles before gently turning her girlfriend’s head to lightly stamp another kiss on her cheek, smiling at the fresh mark and the jester’s blissed-out expression. “I actually think that’s a great idea.” She then eyed the girl carefully. “That is, of course, if you were serious.”

“[$#!%] yeah,” her girlfriend breathed out with a dopey grin.

That was all she needed. 

#harlequilt #jesterdoll #ragapom #buttonblossom #pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #A scrap of fluff from my fic that I’m particularly proud of #I’ll share it with you guys as a treat #This one chapter might actually rival PCL in sheer levels of saccharine #tadc fanfiction

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Notice Me (Kaeya, Ayato, Tartaglia)

The alternative title to this is “Notice Me, Senpai”, in which three of our favorite little shits try and get your attention. I may do another one for twisted wonderland, Maybe.

Reader is part of the adventurer’s guild.

Genre: Fluff

Fem!Reader, very few third person pronouns used

Asks and Requests are OPEN

Kaeya

Let’s be honest, he has his work cut out for him

His first tactic is to lay the flirting on heavy. Which doesn’t work very well. You just think he’s being extra obnoxious or trying to get you to do some of the tedious jobs for him and so, you just ignore it

Cue several days of drinking with Rosaria while he wonders what he’s doing wrong. Eventually she smacks him over the head with the obvious and he gets down to thinking about how to win your attention and maybe score a date in the process

It takes him awhile. He never thought he’d actually be dating someone. His secrets make it less than feasible, but you’re a special case. And special cases take special effort

He ends up going to Lisa for advice. Of everyone in Mondstadt, he figured she’d be the best help. She ropes him into enabling her laziness for a few weeks only to hit him with some super simple advice, “quit hinting and say it to her face, you idiot. Flowers are good too”

He doesn’t show it, but in his mind he makes a funny face. Directness? Upfrontness? Honesty? Kaeya? I love him, but he’s a roundabout kind of person. Never the less, he really, really wants to to notice him, so he listens. 

He gets Flora to for up a rather large bouquet of flowers (he may have looked up flower symbolism just to make sure he gets the point across) before having Katheryn direct you to his office for a “specially requested commission”

When you get there he presents you with the bouquet and a well-rehearsed confession that he still manages to stumble over

He’s the happiest knight ever when you agree to go on a date with him

Ayato

He goes the secret admirer route, at least to start with

Sweet letters, flowers, he’s rich and he uses it to his advantage lol

When he has the time, he’s always offering to help you with your commissions in one way or another or just as often having Katheryn giving you special commissions that involve helping Thoma and thus reporting back to him

You get teased a lot about your secret admirer, Everyone in the guild has their own theories. One of the most popular ones is that it’s Thoma trying to court you from a far

Anyone Ayato falls for is bound to be intelligent, so you’re quick to dismiss that idea. Instead, you’re pretty sure it’s his boss that’s behind it all. The flowers are too nice and the paper too expensive. The beautiful handwriting doesn’t match Thoma’-- you know full well that Kamisato Ayato enjoys calligraphy, not to mention the sheer number of times you’ve stood in his office recently. It wasn’t the hardest connection to make.

 After you took a peak at the paper on his desk, unsurprised to find that the penmanship matched perfectly--almost perfectly, he seems to have put extra effort into the letters he sends you--you spent some time thinking about what to do about this information

In the end you decide to let things continue as they have been

You’re familiar enough with him to know that he has a sense of mischief and enjoys having the upper hand. Letting him continue to think that he has it, while starting to think of how you’re going to use the information seems like a fun idea

He doesn’t know it, but you turn it into a game. One where you have the advantage

After several weeks of basking in the attention--and knowing he doesn't know you know--you request to see Ayaka, who you’ve also come to know fairly well

At your behest, Ayaka starts to leave flowers on Ayato’s desk. One here, one there. These are of a far lesser quality than the ones he sends but so sue you, you’re not a pretty rich boy, thank you very much

It doesn’t take long for him to catch on. That kind of subtle affection and communication isn’t Ayaka’s style, Thoma keeps a very professional relationship (and is directly involved in helping Ayato woo you), and no one else would dare do something like that. Seriously. 

At that point, he decides to end the game

Like Kaeya, he choses a private sort of place, only he has class about it

He sends you another anonymous letter, inviting you to the estate at midnight on a full moon. (Moonlight rendezvous? Super romantic, definitely private, totally awesome)

Of course, knowing the game that is being played, you’re happy to go

When you meet him you don’t even bother acting surprised (though the full dinner, candles and all, wasn’t totally expected). Instead you happily sit and eat with him, dropping the formality that you usually use when dealing with him

It’s the first of many games between you, this time the result is certainly a win for both of you

Tartaglia

uhhhh

I think he takes a three pronged attack method when it comes to catching your attention

The first is some fairly subtle flirting. Just because his preferred method of diplomacy involves fighting to the death, doesn’t mean he can’t smooth talk when he feels like it

And he feels like it. He thinks you’re pretty and likes to make sure you know it. It’s a huge confidence boost for you

It definitely makes you suspicious because unlike a certain Mondstadt cryo user, hard-core flirting is not his default. 

Second, instead of offering deadly bouts of violence he decides to train you up. You’re not the most proficient swordsman, specializing in less violent commissions (Baizhu bubu pharmacy loves you very much)

“I want her to be my girl and I want to make sure she can protect herself”

Also, it gives him a valid excuse to touch you without being pervy. Any other time, he keeps his hands to himself, but when training you, if he has to adjust an arm or shift your form, well, that’s just part of training (uh huh, sure.)

His third method of catching your attention is showing off his martial skills

He loves showing you how strong he his, how fast he is, and how many different weapons he can use

Honestly, he’s so obvious about all of it that it only takes you a couple months to catch on and confront him about it

He doesn’t bother denying it and instead takes the initiative to ask you out

It turns out you liked the flirting, the little touches, and found his showing off to be amusing, so you happily accepted

#I will forever headcanon that Kaeya is not as smooth as he pretends to be #Particularly when it comes to romantic relationships #Diluc snickers any time he sees Kaeya tripping over his feet in front of his crush #Kaeya #Kaeya hcs #Kaeya fluff #Kamisato Ayato #Kamisato Ayato hcs #Kamisato Ayato fluff #Tartaglia #Childe #Tartaglia hcs #Childe HCs #Tartaglia fluff #Childe Fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact hcs #genshin impact fluff #fluff #kaeya x reader #Tartaglia x reader #Childe x reader #kamisato ayato x reader

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

Hankmos cuddling ficlet don't look at me

below the cut

"Hank."

A weight settles itself on his chest. He doesn't need the lights on to know that Deimos is scowling down at him.

"Hank, I know you're awake," Deimos says, poking his cheek.

Brat.

"It's 4am," Hank grumbles, batting the hand away. It's his own fault, he knows. Giving Deimos an open door policy is near the top of the list of worst decisions he's ever made, but...

"Nightmare," Deimos replies, planting his hands on Hank's pecs, absently tracing circles with his thumbs, grounding himself in the present.

A part of Hank wants to roll his eyes, shove Deimos off, and tell him to grow up. The other part, the one that wins, understands. He snakes his arms around Deimos's waist and rolls over onto his side, pulling the other man down with an indignant squawk.

"Dude-" Deimos starts to complain, but the protest dies as quickly as it started when Hank tucks Deimos's head underneath his chin, long limbs engulfing him in an embrace.

"Five minutes," Hank says, letting go just long enough for Deimos to wriggle his way under the covers and get comfortable. Five more minutes and then he'll go spar with the runt until he's tired enough to pass out.

Deimos starts purring, despite his irritated huff, snuggling in closer.

Now Hank remembers why he tolerates this little asshole in the first place. He's small and warm and he fucking purrs. It isn't unlike a cat, albeit louder and much deeper given his size, but Hank finds it soothing nonetheless. Allegedly, most clones could do it, but Deimos is on the very short list of clones he doesn't try to kill on the regular.

He always smells nice, too. Not because of any rigid hygiene standards, but because Deimos can't seem to go a day not covered in blood, engine grease, or both. It leaves his hair soft to the touch, smelling faintly of shampoo and cheap cologne.

At the two minute mark Deimos starts to squirm, trying to get his arms free. Hank is about to re-restrain him when those arms wrap around his torso and Deimos nuzzles his face into his chest, deep purr growing louder.

It leaves his hands buzzing in such an interesting way, the urge to grab and squeeze the shorter man like a stress ball almost overwhelming. Almost. He doesn't do that though, instead tentatively carding his fingers through Deimos's hair.

"If you tell anyone, I'm gonna shove you down the stairs," Deimos says, voice muffled by the fabric of Hank's night shirt.

His sharp exhale could've been a laugh in another life, because really the idea of Deimos trying to shove him anywhere is funny. Not even if Hank gave him a free attempt.

By the time five minutes has passed, Deimos's purring has tapered off into light snoring, his grip loosened but hands still fisted in the back of Hank's shirt.

And letting him stay is such a terrible idea. He's already annoying and always in his personal space, always trying to talk to him and get his attention. But Hank is comfortable and Deimos is already asleep. If he wakes him, that means he'll have to get up too and spar.

Just for tonight.

Yeah, just this once to save himself the trouble. Just one time only. Deimos is on his own after that.

Just for tonight.

#rare smalls fluff moment don't get used to it #I just think these two are particularly soft with each other #madness combat #madcom #deimos #hank j. wimbleton #hankmos #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

[tswwwit]

Do you think a cool idea would be in a au, Bill "convinced" Dipper by manipulation, mind control , ECT to kill in the name of Bill. Each kill Dipper does, he gets a smooch from Bill or another award from Bill?

I'm reasonably sure that this AU has been written somewhere before, but there's always variations on it! If that's what you're looking for, I'm sure people can provide recs in the replies, and AO3's tagging system is fantastic if you're looking for specific tropes.

#answers #I totally feel like this fic exists but damned if I can recall it #Anyway this is the fluff and occasional angst zone. With pornography. #Dark Billdip is super fun but not particularly what I'm interested in writing #But I definitely absolutely know it's out there for people who want it

[luvxiem]

cuddling with...

word count ! ~600 pairing ! mysta x gn!reader genre ! fluff song ! die alone | finneas

.｡.:*☆ MYSTA RIAS !

laying in bed together after a longer stream, you on the inside and him on the outside with your legs intertwined

him resting his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair as he talks about his day

him drawing shapes with his finger on the exposed skin of your waist

eventually he runs out of things to say and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, simply basking in each other’s presence

he nuzzles against your collarbone and you tilt your head down to leave a lingering kiss on his forehead

eventually though, the rumble of your stomach is bothersome enough to get up from the safety of your lover’s embrace

“we should get up so we can eat dinner,” you mumbled, playing with the ends of his hair. mysta tightens his hold on you in response.

“haidnwunergrt’p,” he replies, words muffled against your chest. laughing quietly, you asked him to repeat himself more clearly. removing himself from you rather reluctantly, he says, “i don’t wanna get up.” it’s clear to see the detective is feeling a bit lazy at the moment and would much rather stay in this little safe haven, blocking out the sounds of the city outside. however, it’s already almost midnight and you know your boyfriend hasn’t eaten since noon.

tapping his shoulder, you gently nudge him off of you so that you could sit up, ignoring his small whine in protest. climbing out of bed, he rolls over to face you as you stretch your arms above your head. the weight of his stare is heavy as you pad out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to make a quick dinner for the two of you.

luckily there was still a good amount of yesterday’s rice leftover that you could use to make fried rice. quickly washing and prepping a small amount of veggies and eggs, you get to work on making a late dinner.

in the middle of frying the rice, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a warm torso against your back. you hum as mysta rests his chin on your shoulder while you add a bit of soy sauce to the pan. he doesn’t say much as you plate the rice, grabbing two spoons for you both while you bring the bowls over to the sofa.

mysta sits himself right up against you, angling his body so that your legs are thrown over his. the two of you eat in silence with you occasionally spoon feeding him more veggies. you press yourself closer to him after you finish your bowl, setting it down on the coffee table to be put away in the dishwasher later. the now sleepy detective puts his dish aside as well, pulling you down with him to lay down on the plush sofa.

“babe, we need to get ready for bed,” you laugh, pushing at his shoulder to let you go. mysta is quite strong, however, so your attempts are futile as he closes his eyes and doesn’t budge.

“five minutes,” he says, and you roll your eyes as you relax your body against him, hiding your face in his neck. mysta blindly reaches for the throw blanket the two of you keep, throwing it over the both of you before sighing out in content.

the two of you don’t wake until the morning after.

WRITTEN ! 072322

#im feeling particularly soft for him today #luvxiem.writing #mysta rias x reader #mysta rias fluff #luxiem x reader #luxiem fluff #nijisanji en x reader #mysta.txt #i love quiet domecisity #domesticity #????? how tf do u spell that ToT

[crimsongrimoire]

wrio holding an umbrella over neuvi is cute and all but i think it'd be cuter if neuvi explained to him no i like the rain actually im out here on purpose. and wrio went oh cool have fun with your immersion therapy ill keep you company and walk you home after you're done

#genshin #crow.txt #snippets #wriolette #fluff #sfw #the umbrella thing is cute and all but itd be cuter To Me if he respected the fact that neuvi is doing it on purpose alright #let him have his weird little idiot in the rain time okay. hes decompressing. hes vibing #moisturized in his lane thriving flourishing etc etc etc #does wrio particularly also want to be drenched and cold? no but he'll still stand nearby so lonely dragon isnt so lonely #he can come under the umbrella when hes done vibing #he needs his water time and wrio understands and respects this. let him have his water time

[occasionalsnippets]

hi, so this is up to u whether u want to take this request or not but can i ask for for an impostor x reader and make it as crack and wholesome as possible?

totally not cheating on god darling x reader rn-

Kindness Of Stars (SAGAU)

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A/n: I don’t take requests but also I haven’t written anything here in a really long time (I’m also procrastinating on writing other things lol). Featuring far less crack and wholesome-ness than you probably wanted.

Pairing: Impostor X Reader, implied Gen

Warnings: Yandere, mentioned cult, impostor is very mean to people other than reader

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Starsnatch Cliff is beautiful at night time. The stars are bright above you, nothing like the ones in your world, clouded by light pollution. The impostor (your impostor, they would insist if they hear your thoughts) is cuddled in your lap, basking in your warmth as you stargaze. They’re spoiled, really, but that’s your fault.

You run your fingers through their hair and they nuzzle closer to you.

“Do you want to go inside?” you ask them.

“Only if you want to,” they sleepily mumble.

“It is getting late,” you mused. “The others will be worried if we stay out too long.”

The others, of course, refer to the other members of your “cult”. It’s almost difficult to remember how you ended up in this position. Another world where you’re the characters’ god? Talk about surreal. You aren’t sure if you’d prefer this cushy place as an object of devotion over being hunted down like a wild boar.

The impostor’s nails dig into your arm. “I don’t care about them.”

“I know,” you soothed, gently tugging them up so you could meet eye to eye. “But you know how much they fuss.”

“They shouldn’t when I’m with you. You’re far too kind to them anyway.”

Too kind. They always say that when you talk about anyone else. They regale you with stories of when they themselves first arrived in Teyvat and how cruelly they were chased for merely resembling you. Oftentimes, they recite how difficult times were until they rose to the (temporary until you came along) position as “God”.

“In the beginning, they were untamed and unruly,” they spat. “They know nothing of you. What if it were you they met first? You would have been killed before your brilliance could be recognized. Every little transgression was justified with your name when I know you would have been kind regardless of the crime.”

You’re still unsure about the supposed kind part of you. There’s been nothing you’ve done to deserve all the pampering and gifts your acolytes have given you yet they insist that you’ve “enlightened” them and that you’ve “done more than enough for them”.

(You think that the impostor is part of the reason many of them still look so guilty when you speak with them but none of them say anything so you guess you’ll never really know.)

“Let’s go back,” you decide. “You won’t disobey me when you’re mine, right?”

Lifting your hand, you let your fingertips brush against their cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. They hum, satisfied, as they press their face against your palm.

“I’m yours,” they agree dreamily, “so please, don’t think about anyone else when I’m with you.”

#author reiterates that she is not a yandere author (or a fluff one actually) #reader isn't a particularly good person? then again neither is the impostor #i uh haven't checked the sagau tag in a good couple of months so i have no idea what's going on there rn #occasionally i still get notes about my original half baked idea regarding impostor x reader and i keep wondering #how the heck are people finding that post #answered #ask #anon #writing #my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #self aware genshin au #sagau #tw yandere #x reader #reader insert #tw cult #tw religious themes #reader #imagine #imagines #written in second person #self aware genshin impact