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libraryofgage · 9 months

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Addams Family Steddie AU Part 2

Part two of the Addams Family Steddie AU from this post! Anyway, here are five times Eddie gave Steve a gift plus one particularly special gift Steve gave him in return

I'll be honest, this one really got away from me LMAO

Also, @xjessicafaithx asked to be tagged if there was a part two so here ya go! I have a few more ideas for this AU so there might be more parts later too lol

One~

Steve is idly flipping through the mail he just pulled out of the mailbox, delaying his return to the house where Dustin is currently screaming about dice rolls over a Discord call, when he feels someone staring at him. His shoulders tense, and his grip on a junk letter creases the envelope as he looks up.

Crouching on the walkway leading up to a pitch-black house, elbows resting on his knees and a covered plate in his hands, is Eddie Munson. He's staring straight at Steve, eyes practically boring through him. When he realizes Steve has noticed him, Eddie perks up and balances the plate in one hand so he can wave with the other.

Steve hesitates before flashing an unsure smile and waving back. He thinks of the recently-washed plate that held the arsenic and chocolate chip cookies currently in his kitchen, waiting to be returned. Maybe he can return it now?

While he's thinking, Eddie has apparently taken the wave as permission to pop to his feet and walk over. And, well, he isn't wrong. It's not like Steve immediately started walking away after waving; he just kept standing there, locked in place by neighborly social conventions and Eddie's intense gaze.

"Good morning, Stevie," Eddie says, flashing that too-sharp grin at Steve as he leans on the mailbox. "You're looking particularly ravishing today."

"Ravishing?"

Eddie slowly looks him up and down, his eyes dragging along Steve's figure before finally letting their gazes meet once more. "Good enough to eat, really," Eddie replies, leaning in a little closer and making Steve's heart race with something that could be fear but is more likely embarrassment. Not that he wants to admit that. So, fear it is.

Steve laughs awkwardly and leans back, looking away and blaming the heat in his cheeks on the sun. "Uh, thanks. You, uh, look nice too," he says, glancing back at Eddie to take in the ripped jeans and short-sleeved black button-down (is that silk? It looks like silk) and chunky rings shaped like bats and skulls and coffins and wow, Eddie's fingers are kind of long.

Thankfully, Steve is saved from his mind wandering too far by Eddie shoving the covered plate into his hands. It's a familiar motion, and Steve almost laughs at it. "Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says, letting his fingers brush across the back of Steve's hands before pulling away. "Anyway, Wayne baked more last night before communing with some spirits. He made too many eye of newt brownies, and I thought you'd enjoy them."

Steve blinks, looking down at the plate in his hands. "Eye of newt?" he asks, curiously lifting the tin foil to see perfectly normal-looking brownies inside.

"Yeah, they're to die for," Eddie says, his grin widening as he pushes off the mailbox and leaves Steve with a plate of brownies and a confusing feeling in his chest.

Two~

"She likes meatballs."

Steve blinks, staring at the concerningly large Venus Fly Trap in El's hands. Behind her, Eddie is smirking at him, holding his sister's shoulders and giving Steve an expectant look as El holds the flower pot out to him. The pot itself is also concerningly large for how she's holding it, and Steve can't stop himself from quickly taking the pot so she doesn't strain her back any more than she already has.

He grunts at the sudden weight when she lets go but doesn't drop the pot. Instead, he carefully and gently places it on the ground, silently letting out a breath of relief as the plant sways slightly in the pot, brushing against his hip.

The two had caught Steve when he was getting out of his car, his entire body already feeling heavy from work. His plan had been to go inside, do his best to not fall asleep standing in the shower, make Dustin dinner, and then pass out in bed until his alarm woke him again in the morning.

But instead, El had run over to him the moment he got out of his car, cheeks slightly flushed with excitement as she offered him the plant. Eddie had leisurely followed her over, amusement clear on his face as he watched Steve's brain struggle to catch up.

"Doesn't she eat flies?" Steve asks, looking down at the plant. For some reason, he feels like it's staring back at him.

El shakes her head. "Flies are not big enough. You should feed her one pound of meatballs on Wednesday and Sunday."

Cool. Great. Perfectly normal. It's not like Steve has had a Venus Fly Trap before, so he can't contest that. "Why are you giving her to me?" he asks, tearing his eyes away from the plant to look at El.

"Aunt Morticia took cuttings of her Cleopatra and sent us a few," El says, her tone implying that should be more than enough explanation.

Steve's expression, however, surely says differently. Thankfully, Eddie picks up on it and leans forward over El. "She'll make a great guard plant for you and Dustin, Stevie. Plus, she's almost as good a listener as I am," he explains, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, pointedly ignoring the second part of that explanation. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Nix," El tells him.

"Nix?"

"Yeah. Stevie," Eddie says, pointing at him before pointing to the plant and saying, "Nix. Because you said you like Fleetwood Mac."

Yeah, Steve did say that, but it was in passing, and he didn't think Eddie had actually heard him say it or paid any attention. It was said to Dustin while they were walking to the car, and Eddie had just happened to be sitting on his porch at the time.

But he did pay attention. And now he and El have given Steve and Dustin a plant whose name is a reference to Fleetwood Mac. Steve can't help a smile, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than just ten minutes ago. "Thanks, I know Dustin will love her, too," he says, feeling blinded by the tiny smile from El and the full-on grin from Eddie.

Three~

Nix likes to get sun, but she doesn't like being in the sun for too long. She also doesn't like staying still in the sun; she prefers to be moved around constantly, never staying in one spot for more than a minute if she's particularly patient. She also prefers to go on a sun walk right after eating her pound of meatballs.

These are things Steve learns over the course of three weeks through trial and error that often resulted in Nix snapping shut around his arm whenever he didn't immediately do as she liked. Steve had never heard of a plant having a personality before (especially not such a temperamental one), but he's come to find it endearing. Plus, carrying Nix around the yard does make for an effective workout.

So, on a very hot Sunday at the very end of June, Steve is carrying Nix around his backyard. Her pot is in his arms, sweat is dripping down his back, and Nix is helpfully trying to shade his head from the sun using her...head? Steve actually isn't sure what to call the top part of her. Is it a mouth?

"It's called a lobe."

Steve jumps, his grip on Nix's pot tightening as he whips his head around and sees Eddie crouching on the fence dividing their yards. He isn't even sure how Eddie manages it, considering how narrow the fence is, but he's also stopped trying to figure it out.

"What is?" he asks.

Eddie hops down, walking over to Steve and carefully taking Nix out of his hands. He continues walking around the backyard, and Steve doesn't even question following him. "This," Eddie says, pointing to the top of Nix's head. "This is called a lobe."

"How'd you..."

"You had a curious expression and were looking at Nix."

"You know my curious expression?"

Eddie looks over at Steve, a smile pulling at his lips and his eyes softening some, and Steve suddenly feels like he's drowning in the ocean and floating among the clouds. "I know all your expressions, Stevie," Eddie tells him.

Steve feels seen and terrified and...and utterly under whatever spell Eddie has spent the past few months carefully casting. He doesn't say anything about it, though. Instead, he rather dumbly says, "Oh."

The smile widens, and Steve finds himself wondering not for the first time what it would feel like to run his tongue over Eddie's too-sharp canines. "By the way, I got something for you, Stevie."

Steve blinks, watching as Eddie easily cradles Nix's pot in one arm and reaches into his back pocket. For a brief moment, Steve thinks he's going to pull out his dagger again. Last time, he'd placed it in Steve's hand and very seriously told him, "If you ever see me on the verge of death, take this dagger and stab it through my heart. I'd rather die by your hand than whatever else got to me first." He'd then showed Steve where he kept it, his smile bright despite his words leaving Steve speechless.

Eddie does not, in fact, pull out a dagger. He pulls out a tiny, leatherbound journal. The journal is black like everything else the Munson family owns, and a heart is carefully painted onto the cover with two skulls looking outwards and meeting at the jaws to create the heart's point.

Steve slowly takes the journal, the cover feeling soft under his thumb, and he looks up at Eddie. His confusion is made even stronger when he sees his bashful expression. Eddie uses his free hand to tug on a lock of his hair, habitually hiding his mouth behind it. "I, uh, write music, you know," he says, waiting for Steve to nod once before rushing out in one breath, "I wrote songs for you."

When the words actually register, Steve's eyes widen, and he cracks the journal open to a random page. Eddie's familiar scratchy handwriting crosses the paper. Steve can only just see a line about the arrows of fate and burning stars before Eddie's hand covers the page. "Maybe, uh, maybe read them later."

Steve easily agrees, and Eddie quickly changes the subject. After finishing Nix's walk around the garden, Eddie helps Steve return her to her room and returns himself to his own home. Steve watches Eddie through the window, waiting for him to go inside before opening the journal once more and finding the page Eddie had covered.

i'll throw myself before the arrows of your fate// take all your misfortune as the gift it is// piercing my ribs as you burn brighter than stars// unhindered by the despair i have stolen for myself

Four~

Eddie's hand is warm in Steve's as he leads him up the stairs of the Munson home. The halls are dimly lit by old lanterns whose flames make shadows dance across the walls, and Steve finds them more romantic than creepy. When they reach the attic, Eddie stops at the door. "Okay, some of them don't look like normal bats," he says, turning to look at Steve.

"Are you giving me one of the normal ones?"

Eddie nods once. "Yeah, the demobats are too unpredictable, and the hivemind doesn't help. You wanted one bat, not a swarm."

Steve hums softly, leaning closer and placing his free hand on Eddie's chest, right over his heart. "I would accept a swarm if you gave it to me, babe," he says, smiling reassuringly at Eddie.

His words are rewarded with an arm around his waist, holding him closer like Eddie wants to pull Steve under his skin and hold him in the spaces between his bones. "But I wouldn't get nearly as much attention then, Stevie," he replies, punctuating each word with tiny pecks that begin at his forehead, follow the bridge of his nose, and end on his lips in a lingering kiss.

Steve almost loses himself in it, but he'd rather not get carried away where Wayne or El could catch them. So he begrudgingly pulls away, playfully reaching up and tugging one of Eddie's locks when he pouts. "You know you're dearer to me than all the bats in the world, Eddie. Now, which bat is mine?"

Eddie's pout immediately becomes a grin, and he opens the attic door. It's dark as night in the room, the only lights coming from red eyes staring at them from the ceiling. Eddie keeps his arm around Steve's waist, keeping him close as he shortly whistles three times. A screech sounds from the ceiling, followed by the flapping of wings and a bat flying out to land on Eddie's outstretched arm.

With his foot, Eddie shuts the door as he holds the bat in front of Steve so he can get a better look. The bat is small, no more than three inches, and its nose looks vaguely like an upside-down heart. It tilts its head, studying Steve in return as it shifts on Eddie's hand. "Isn't she cute?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles and holds his hand out to the bat, a few seconds passing before she moves from Eddie to him. "Yeah, she's really cute," he says as she surveys her new spot. She shifts a few times before pushing off Steve's hand and flying to his shoulder. She settles close to his neck, a warm softness against his skin partially hidden by his hair. And then she chirps, sounding like the squeaking of sneakers on a gym floor.

"She's an African heart-nosed bat," Eddie explains, starting to pull Steve down the stairs again. "They're very territorial, and they mark their territory by singing."

"Is that what she's doing?" Steve asks, raising his free hand to gently brush a finger against her head. She humors the touch for a few seconds before gently nipping his finger, not breaking the skin but clearly getting across that he shouldn't touch her anymore.

"Yep," Eddie says, grinning at Steve. "So, what are you gonna name her?"

Five ~

Hulyet buries herself in Steve's hair as he stares at the floor-length black dress Eddie holds up. She apparently picks up on Steve's confusion and slight concern, decides something is invading their territory, and begins singing aggressively in Eddie's direction.

The sudden squeaks and chirps break Steve out of his confusion, and he can't help a laugh. He reaches up, gently stroking her back to reassure her that everything is fine, and asks Eddie, "What's with the dress?"

"All Hallow's Eve is approaching," Eddie says, "I thought we could go as Dracula and his bride."

"Am I the bride?"

Eddie pauses, looking at the dress for a moment before looking back at Steve. "I haven't figured that out yet," he admits. "If you don't want to be the bride, I don't mind it."

Steve blinks, suddenly realizing this is Eddie trying to plan a couple's costume for Halloween. A familiar warmth floods through him, and he can't help smiling. He studies the dress, coming to the conclusion that he doesn't mind wearing it. For Eddie, of course.

Well, actually, he also thinks it looks hot.

"Okay. Let me try it on," he says, holding out his hands. Eddie lights up, handing over the dress and looking at Steve expectantly.

Well, there goes changing in the bathroom. Steve sighs, feels relieved he wore briefs, and strips down. Hulyet grips tighter to his hair as he moves, chirping once in indignation before settling once more as Steve wiggles his way into the dress.

It's tight, but not overly so. The material hugs curves Steve didn't even know he had, and the neckline plunges between his pecs and stretches into off-shoulder sleeves. The very bottom of the dress flares outward in a spiderweb pattern formed by lace. He takes a few experimental steps, relieved to find his movement isn't too restricted by the dress and fascinated to discover the spiderweb at the bottom stays perfectly spread out.

"How's it look?" Steve asks, turning to Eddie only to find that he'd moved right behind him at some point. He startles, taking a step back and getting his foot caught on the back of the dress. Before he can hit the floor, though, Eddie catches him, arms around his waist and holding him in a dip.

Steve's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breath short as he tightly grips Eddie's jacket collar and tries to ignore Hulyet painfully yanking on his hair. Eddie grins at him and says, "You look enchanting, Stevie. I would have fallen on my knees to worship you if you didn't beat me to the falling part."

Steve snorts and relaxes his grip, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck instead. "How long are you planning to hold me like this?" he asks.

"I could hold you as the world burns to ash around us. Even after we die and have decomposed, our skeletons will still be wrapped around each other, forever locked together."

From anyone else, Steve thinks he would worry about being murdered. But from Eddie, Steve just thinks it's one of the most romantic things he's ever heard, right alongside everything else Eddie has ever said to him. "That sounds perfect," he says, happily smiling into the kiss Eddie gives him.

Plus One~

"Fucking hell, Steve, stop bothering me about this!"

Steve frowns at Dustin, slouching on the couch as he anxiously turns a velvet box over in his hands. Dustin is laid out on the floor with a bowl of cheese puffs, his head resting on Dart's back as the demodog naps. "You're such a supportive brother," Steve says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dustin scoffs and throws a cheese puff at Steve's head. "I was plenty supportive the first fifteen times! Just fucking give him the ring already," Dustin says, returning the stuck-out tongue that Steve sends him before looking down at his phone and typing something. "Dude, it's Eddie. You could give him a used soda can and he'd give it a fucking pedestal in his room."

Okay, yeah, Dustin has a point. That doesn't make Steve any less nervous, though. He forces himself to take a deep breath, pushing down his anxiety long enough to say, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Literally, when have I ever been wrong, Steve?"

"Shut up."

Dustin flashes a grin just as Eddie's familiar rhythmic knock sounds against the door right before he opens the door. "By the way, I told Eddie to come over so you'd stop bothering me," Dustin tells him, his grin widening as Eddie saunters into the room.

"All right, gremlin," Eddie says, nudging Dustin with his foot, "get out."

As Dustin practically bolts from the room, Dart right on his heels, Steve decides he's going to make zucchini spaghetti for dinner so Dustin is forced to suffer through vegetables.

"So, whatcha got there, Stevie?" Eddie asks, perching on the couch next to Steve and looking pointedly at the box in his hands.

Well, there's no escaping it now.

Steve takes one more deep breath and opens the box. He pulls out the ring inside and presents it to Eddie. It's smaller than the rings he normally wears, but the sterling silver band is engraved with bat wings and an anatomical heart is carved into the garnet on top. A small, almost imperceptible clasp can be found just under the garnet. "I found it at an antique store with El and Max," Steve explains. He hesitates before carefully pushing the clasp to reveal a compartment just beneath the garnet. "It's one of those poison rings."

Eddie is uncharacteristically silent as he takes the ring, carefully shutting the compartment so he can turn it over in his hands. Once he's fully inspected the band and garnet, he pushes on the clasp and studies the size of the compartment. Finally, he slips the ring onto his left ring finger, his sharp canines coming into full view as he grins. "Yes, of course."

"Uh, yes what?"

"You're proposing, and I'm saying yes," Eddie explains, taking Steve's hand and bringing it to his lips. He kisses Steve's palm before lightly dragging his teeth over it, and Steve thinks he shows incredible character growth by not jerking his hand away.

His brain catches up a few seconds later. "Wait, proposing? This wasn't...I just...we've only been dating for three months?"

Eddie hums softly in agreement, sliding Steve's hand to his cheek and leaning into the touch. "I know," he says, "We've shown incredible restraint so far. Most Munsons get married within weeks of meeting their loves."

Honestly, that doesn't surprise Steve at all. Who could resist the Munson charm? Who could say no to the all-consuming devotion that shows no sign of ever fading? Steve's mouth suddenly feels dry. "Right," he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheek, "That, um, that's just a little fast, I think."

Eddie's smile doesn't fade one bit. He just nods, his eyes glowing with understanding and love and Steve's weakening resolve practically crumbles when Eddie says, "That's okay, Stevie. As long as I can see you and be near you, I don't care about anything else. You could put a knife through my heart, and I'd thank you for the chance to get a closer look at your eyes."

Steve...Steve is fucking weak. He abandons any idea of maintaining a distance between them, climbing into Eddie's lap and kissing the cheek he isn't holding. "It's not an engagement ring, but...but consider it an engaged-to-be-engaged ring," he says, the words feeling ridiculous as he speaks them.

But that doesn't matter because Eddie practically lights up. "Is that a promise? That we're engaged to be engaged?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, his voice soft, "Just wait at least three more months before you propose, okay?"

Eddie's grin gets even wider, and he presses a searing kiss to Steve's lips, leaving him breathless and light-headed and absolutely sure Eddie is already planning his proposal.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #addams family au #addams! Eddie Munson #dustin henderson #el hopper #hulyet is yiddish for howl btw #addams family steddie #addams family romance my beloved #my writing

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acewoo · 4 months

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Jjk men Bf head-cannons

Note: pure fluff, Sfw Characters included: Gojo, Geto, and sukuna

Satoru Gojo

Gojo will send you tonssss of voice messages talking about literally anything. He’ll be on his couch laying down and he’ll send you a voice message about how the show he’s watching is so boring. “The female lead doesn’t even have any personality and is just there to make the male lead look good!” You’ll complain to him sometimes that he send too many of these voice messages but, he responds that it couldn’t be true because, you love the sound of his voice. (And to be fair you do listen to every one he sends.)

Gojo cannot cook for the life of him. Anytime you try to teach him something wrong will always happen. For example you tired showing him how to make spaghetti and meatballs which is simple enough, right? Wrong. Because Gojo, not only ended up burning the pasta (somehow which still boggles your mind to this day) but, the meatballs weren’t exactly balls… They were certainly meat, and they tasted like meatballs but… they were only shaped to say the least.

Gojo definitely spoils you. And anytime you try to tell him he's doing too much he’ll come up with an excuse for why buying you a 180.00 skirt was necessary. “Well I had to get it, it was the last one and it’d work perfectly for that Christmas party we're attending!” To clarify he was talking about, the Christmas party that was three months away. Of course in all fairness you wouldn't complain too much… It would look pretty nice on you.

Suguru Geto

Even the smallest gestures he does for you are full of thought. Whenever you're having a long day at work you'll usually text Geto about your frustrations. He's trying to be supportive as you rant and help you calm down. When you get home you’ll be welcome to a newly cleaned apartment and Geto in the kitchen finishing up making your favorite meal for dinner. When he sees your home he’ll immediately start talking to you “I’ll finish up here soon, how are you feeling?” The rest of night would end up being him taking care of you fully making you forget about work entirely.

This mf definitely remembers the small things within your relationship and he’ll remember things about you no one else will. For instance you disliked when people surprised you from behind. It wasn’t anything that majorly bugged you but, it made you feel uncomfortable. (Especially since you weren’t a huge fan of being touched) When Geto found this out when we you guys were out in public or hanging with a group of friends he’d always stay slightly behind you. When you questioned why he did this, he said it was so he could make sure no one will surprise you like that. Even though you insisted he didn’t have to he still did which you couldn’t help but love him even more for.

Sukuna

He’s possessive, like really possessive. (He swears he’s not though). Anytime your in public around people or not he’ll make it clear your his. Whether that’s an arm around your waist or being very intimate with you even if it’s not the most appropriate… Whenever it’s at places such as a club it’ll be even worse, not only will be touchy but his whole mind and body will be focused on you. (Even if he doesn’t realize it..) And that’s the thing he doesn’t realize he’s like that infact anytime you bring it up to him he swears you’re just overthinking things. Because, him, Sukuna being possessive over another person? Fucking ridicules. Totally not in denial.

One thing you wouldn’t expect from Sukuna would be him to be rather supportive of you and your decisions. Of course it wasn’t exactly the most traditional way people are supportive. But hey, it’s Sukuna nothing about him is ‘normal’. Sukuna is supportive in the way where you’ll feel insecure about wearing and he’ll give you a confused look. “Why the hell would yah not wear it?” Flushed you respond. “It makes me look bad like-“ “I don’t know what you’re on about I like how it looks on you so you’re wearing it.” And of course you weren’t going to argue with your bf so, you wear it. Throughout the day He’ll make comments about how good you look which make you blush. Of course it isn’t exactly the lovely dovey kind of comments but still.

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mournings-stars · 1 month

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i loved the adam with a fat!reader 🥹 so cute, id love to see lucifer with a reader similar? like maybe shorter like him and a bit on the chubby side 🙏

AHHH THATS SO CUTE

imagine you’re like a chef or baker or something, maybe hellborn, maybe a sinner, and you meet him at an event that he’s just required to go to, so he’s staying by the catering tables and just busying himself with food so he doesn’t have to talk to anyone

“i know it’s a buffet, darlin’, but you’re milking my lil’ supply dry.” and imagine you have the cutest lil accent like maybe it’s southern if you’re hellborn or soft, 50’s movie-type transatlantic if you’re a sinner (i kinda wanna write this now actually so tell me what u prefer…)

first he’d look up, just expecting you to be taller than him, but then he’d look down and see you and immediately try to hand his plate back because how could he take your business for granted when you’re standing right in front of his and so sweet… and beautiful — like he’s not blind, he can see that you’re gorgeous. and if he’s honest the food isn’t good enough to get so many plates, but your restaurant would certainly be popular when you’re the precious little face of it

but he has to stop himself because his thoughts are certainly bordering on rude now, so he’s scrambling to apologize like, “i’m sorry — i see why your food’s so popular now, HAHA, you’re gorgeous — i mean, your food is amazing, but—“

“but?” and then he just shuts up. “no keep going, but what, your majesty?” and he is fumbling, because he can’t tell you he thinks the food is mediocre when he’s been shoving it down his throat all night, but then you say, “i know it’s not my best; they had me here last minute, frettin’ over twenty trays each of my best dishes, which can’t be the best if they’re repeated twenty times,” and even though you’re talking on and on, he’s listening and nodding on and on because because you’re just speaking to him so naturally

“am i talking to much?” “yes — i mean, no! i could listen to you talk all night!”

the rest is literally history, like you tell him to come to your restaurant to see what your cooking is really like, and when he finds out its just a small little restaurant with a couple tables and an old kitchen, he’s amazed because it tastes even better than it did at the event

once he decides to ask you out, and he decides quick, he knows he can’t ask you out to eat, or to an event, or to his house, or to the movies, or—

“you wanna get somethin’ to eat sometime?” and you’re literally asking him before he can even think to ask. “maybe you could cook for me?” you suggest slyly and he’s too flustered to say anything so he just nods. “i’ll make sure i dress fancy for you then, majesty.” and this man is MELTING

and if there’s one thing he learns about you that night its that you are not insecure about anything — your first conversation of you doubting your cooking skills might’ve made him think otherwise, but now he knows it’s just not the case

and you have no reason to be insecure; about your cooking, about anything — hell, you look amazing all dolled up just to come to his home for his 8-minute spaghetti… at least he made homemade meatballs. and those were pretty good! you even complimented them, which gave him a very much needed ego boost to get through the night confidently

and when his confidence finally shows, you’re sure he’s what you want, so you don’t bother taking your time with leading up to kisses or anything past that. you take what you want, with permission, and give him what he wants

and he loves it about you, like, you’re so sure of yourself, confident, and carry yourself with so much charm that people just step out of your way, even with your short stature, which he also loves about you — it’s nice having someone shorter around for once, but he’d definitely shape-shift and let himself be shorter than you for a day or so if you wanted

along those lines, he would give you any and everything you wanted. even if you didn’t ask, he’d give it to you — he’ll get you a new restaurant, new equipment, appliances… hell, he’ll even get you a new apartment… that is, if you don’t move in with him

and he would ask, a million times he’d ask because he just loves being with you that much. whenever you come over, or he goes to your place, he’s stuck to you. he watches you cook, helps if you let him — he bakes! he can bake, but of course he finds out you can too, and he insists you’re much better, but you insist that you do it together since this was much less dangerous than letting him rummage through your spice cabinet

if he’s not helping you, he’s hugging you from behind and watching what you do, hands running all over you, feeling the soft plush of your thighs and hips, your stomach, anything you’ll let him touch which he kisses your cheeks and neck and shoulders — literally anything you’ll let him do because he just loves listening to your precious laughter as he loves on you, or your sighs when he marks your neck or shoulder

this man LOVES lying with his head on your lap or in between your thighs. literally anything to do with your thighs or resting his head on your stomach, like, he’s fully back in heaven

he also loves you on top of him, straddling him while you comb your fingers through his hair, legs across his lap as you read, cuddled up to him as you watch a movie or sleep, he can’t get enough of you

and don’t get me started on the nsfw like… head between your legs all fucking day, squeeze his head with your thighs — like actually do it because he will come undone

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer headcanons #lucifer fluff #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer

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richiehugs · 3 months

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Chris

An old friend of a friend.

Chris is your average 5'11 / 180cm Middle European guy with a remarried mom and a rich father. He used to spend his summers with friends and family in exotic places, or at some local beach.

He was a skinny boy in the early 2010's when he had just turned 18. He was a sporty guy, playing football and doing karate, and of course, he liked to party.

After his graduation, he got a job at an airfield as a security guard, and let's say, it wasn't as active as he might have expected.

Because he started piling on the kilos. He was exercising less, but still going out with his friends and traveling with his family and his girlfriend. He was enjoying life, but life had some unexpected turns for him. He was becoming less and less active on social media, he wouldn't post anything shirtless anymore. He wouldn't take his shirt off anymore even around friends. He knew he got chubby, and he was feeling embarrassed (though it wouldn't stop his beer-bellied friends to mock him - what are friends for, right?).

But then, in 2017, he met a girl at his workplace. The circumstances of the end of his previous relationship are unknown to me. But he was starting to look happier. And rounder.

He must have passed 100 kilos around 2018 - and 110 around 2019. His girlfriend was obviously pampering him, living at his parents house, they didn't have to worry about the slightest thing. Only his weight and his figure. His clothes were dangerously tight, showing every curve of his swollen body.

So he married her. He became a father. And then the pandemic happened.

For anyone he knew from before, he got unrecognizable. From 2020 to 2023, he must have been bounced further up to 120, or even 125 kilo / 280 pounds. His double chin was covering his entire neck. His moobs were resting on his belly, which formed a round ball under his shirt. Sucking it in wouldn't help anymore.

Due to the pandemic, he had to leave his job as airports for closed. He started a job at IKEA as a sales manager. Must have been the stress and the IKEA food that turned even him to a meatball.

But sadly, before turning into Nikocado, another turning point - his wife left him. The reason is again, unknown, but my bet would be his ex gf.

His ex was starting to spend more time with him, and boom, they made up. The girl had become a fitness coach - some sort of freak running marathons and such. Well, Chris has never run a marathon - but he has tried running before.

He started off 2023 with 120+ kilos, beautiful, obese, an aspiring superchub, growing uncontrollably 20 pounds a year - by the end he must have dropped around 20 kilos. So at around 100 kg / 220 lbs, he remains thick, he still has a dadbod, but sadly his best days have faded away. His ex, the old-new gf changed him, his lifestyle, his perfect shape, but he is happy.

This was the story of Chris, a friend of a friend. From 75 kilos to 125 kilos - and then back to 100. The pictures are from 2011 (18yo) to 2023 (30yo).

Not an influencer. Not sharing any names or socials. Please, don't reuse any of the pictures.

#chris #weight gain #belly #chubby #bhm #fat #dadbod #wg story

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prozac · 1 month

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December 27th, 2008 is the day Anik Pillai was left behind. Trying to find his family, he travels the East Coast with his new friends, avoiding the bloodthirsty monsters created by a world-ending virus. ⠀⠀⠀🌹

⠀⠀

⠀

🌹 Season 1: 5 months (Jan-May)

⠀Anik Pillai, separated from his sister, makes friendly with multiple people in the chaos of the collapse of society. In this chaos, Anik raises a little boy who was also separated from his family.

⠀

🌹 Season 2: 1 month (June)

⠀Anik and his friends try to escape the city before it is bombed by the remnants of the United States’ government.

⠀

🌹 Season 3: 2 months (July-August)

⠀Still unable to find his sister & parents, Anik and friends meet a capable married couple, and head to a safe settlement called Wheatville.

⠀

🌹 Season 4: 1 month (September)

⠀The main group learn more about the state of society and science after the fall.

⠀

🌹 Season 5: 3 months (October-December)

⠀The main group learn more about the virus that has made the world implode.

⠀

🌹 Season 6: 1 year (January-December)

⠀Those who remain stay at the first major rebuilt faction: a settlement called Libertytown.

⠀

🌹 Season 7: 4 months (January-April)

⠀While the group is forcibly split, Anik and those with him travel to the city formerly known as Atlanta, which hosts another rebuilt faction: Center for Safety.

⠀

🌹 Season 8: 1 yr (May-May)

⠀A period of rest. However, the surface of calm begins to bubble…

⠀

🌹 Season 9: 2 months (June-July)

⠀Anik learns more about the state of the world outside of the embrace of the powerful settlements.

⠀

🌹 Season 10: 1 month (August)

⠀THE MEAT FACTORY.

⠀

🌹 Season 11: 11 months (September-July)

⠀Anik is alone.

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🌹 Season 12: 6 months (August-January)

⠀Valentino King, hungry ruler of the Kingdom faction, strikes a deal with the mourning Anik Pillai. Anik takes that deal.

⠀

🌹 Season 13: 1 year 4 months (Feburary x2-June)

⠀With society on the coast all forming alliances, the new faction Home begins to become a place of respite.

⠀

🌹 Season 14: ~3 days (July)

The war begins to end.

⠀

🌹 Season 15: 6 months (July-December)

⠀Anik Pillai finishes what was started.

⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 🥀

#DAIL #DAIL Summaries #❤️💚💙🧡

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 3 days

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Lucifers phone pings

Lucifer: Can you check that, it might be Adam.

Alastor reading the text: Hamburgers or meatballs for dinner

Alastor smiles evilly, he replies: Same thing bitch, different shapes.

Lucifers phone pings with angry text after another from Adam.

Lucifer: THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!

He never let Al answer his phone ever again.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #incorrect quotes

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lilac-5ky · 10 months

Text

Roommates from Hell, pt.3 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 3: Eat ✓ Pray ✕ Love ?

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests

A/N: TOJI POV TOJI POV TOJI POV last chapter dedicated to the same day, I promise!

Warning: Sexual imagery and slight angst.

If Toji knew that the tradeoff for forfeiting his hold on you involved wearing an apron three sizes too small and one shade too pink, he could and certainly would have refused.

But Toji was never good at placing bets, let alone winning them, and when you handed him a bouquet of bushy carrots demanding they be diced-not sliced, he found himself wielding a knife of a different kind than the ones he’d been used to carrying.

Carrot peels, he came to realize, cling to fingers with more persistence than blood. His frequent visitations to the sink were timed with fleeting glances at the chirpy whirlwind that zoomed by him, your stare and grip too focused on beating a bowl of eggs into submission to pay heed to the butchered vegetables on his side of the counter or the enamored gleam that sparked in his eyes. Intentional and raw.

Before meeting you, he could count the times he’d eaten a homemade meal actually meant for him on the fingers of one hand. At the Zen’in household, whatever chewed up and spat out leftover remained of his parents or brother’s meals ended up on his plate. On a good day, there’d be a chunk of meat to sate his hunger, but on the bad days… Well, those definitely outnumbered the good ones.

Even the pesky whining guard dogs his uncle kept around had the privilege of stuffing their bellies with specially imported Scandinavian canned food. Not him. He didn’t know the taste of real food until you forced your way into his unordinary worthless life, making all the soggy french fries his intestine had suffered through in the name of waiting out your shift’s end worth it.

Without you, he would have starved a long time ago, both literally and figuratively, as the sight of you doing what you loved the most fed into his hungry eyes. You loved cooking and he loved watching you cook, and he couldn’t wait until the two of you cut down on excess subjects coming in between. He wanted the reason for your smile to be him, not some stupid free-range egg deal you’d gotten from the farmer’s market.

“You done with the carrots?”

Your question faded into a sour statement after facing the carnage of snipped carrot greens and what was left of their orange counterparts, closer to a pulp than a usable ingredient. You probably expected to hear an “I’m sorry,” or at least an “Oops,” but that was far from what he had in mind.

You look like a fucking housewife.

With your little apron -snatched straight from your workplace’s greasy kitchen- hugging your perfect waist perfectly. With your messy hair pulled in a meatball-shaped bun, a wooden chopstick piecing it together. With your feet defying their weary state from working overtime, just so he could enjoy himself a plate of warm food—

All those little things filled his scattered brain with all sorts of ideas. He could hoist you up so easily. Loop his arms around your hips and spin you round and round the tiny space, not a single complaint escaping your lips before they are made his. You’d be pressed flush between his body and the cabinets with nowhere to go, your thighs welcoming him with the spot he longed to call home, and only then would he let his mouth run off to describe the tantalizing details of all the fantasies he’d ever had watching you in that apron, the vilest of all that you one day wore it as his wife.

“Toji…?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

Your fingers tapped at your sides, elbows angled into triangles, and nose scrunching up. Shit. He remembered your lips moving, though he had no real recollection of what you’d just said to him. More like asked of him, judging by your irritable tone.

He shook his head unceremoniously and tossed whatever edible of the carrots inside a bowl, scrapping the peels and leaves into the trash and then he gave it up for inspection. Had you scolded him, he might’ve pretended to care, but you didn’t. Instead, you juggled a handful of onions that he caught mid-air, and he prepped his knife for the second round of calamity.

This time he’d do good, Toji inaudibly promised. He’d show you just how good he was with his hands, even if the task was so menial a fourth grader could pull it off.

Soon enough, a mountain of flawlessly chopped onions, sliced mushrooms, and cubed ham stacked up on his cutting board, their executioner impatient to receive your seal of approval. You worked with your back against him, cold air tingling the short hair at the base of his neck whenever the refrigerator opened to reveal the next ingredient. Namely something in a bowl, something in a bottle, and something in a Tupperware container. That’s as far as he could tell, his view of you narrowed down to your skirt flowing in and out of his eye’s range.

But what his eyes failed to discern, his ears made out just fine, the somewhat familiar tune you hummed gaining lyrics in his brain. It wasn’t the worst song, and as far as Toji was concerned, he wasn’t the world’s worst singer either. He could pitch in right where the chorus began, though decided against it at the very last minute. His rougher voice would stifle rather than compliment your own.

And so, he let his chance at a duet be snatched, first by the oil sizzling in the pan, and then twice again by the exhaust hood’s mortifying buzz. The song changed to one he didn’t recognize, and he was left in the awkward spot of having absolutely nothing to do other than stare at your profile and scowl at the lack of acknowledgment.

You didn’t bat an eye when you reaped the seeds of his hard work— didn’t pay a single compliment before tossing them into the fire.

Stingy ass bitch. Words cost nothing to spare.

He decided to hold onto his childish grudge for a while longer and retired against the wall nearest to the stove, a light thud echoing from where his head hit the cabinet.

Toji did love watching you in your element, but at the same time, he was so terribly… bored. You bossed him around like a dog and lacked the common decency to throw him a damn bone. Worst of all? You ignored him. His little huffs and frowns and carrots— okay, maybe he did fuck up when it came to the carrots, but what was your excuse for giving him less attention than you gave that stupid pan?

Luckily, there were plenty of ways to turn this around, especially with how unguarded the curves of your waist and shoulder were, both perfect fits for his arms to wrap and chin to nuzzle. The rest would be history. You could call him a bastard and flip his dinner over his head (oh, what a terrible waste of ingredients) after he scratched that itch.

“Are you plotting my demise?” Your voice nipped a string of indecent thoughts right in the bud. “You’ve barely said two words since we started. Makes me think either there’s a cut-off tongue in here,” you pointed at the rice, giving it a thorough stir “or that you’re scheming my assassination.”

If only you knew, he smirked, drawing away from the wall.

“Who’d ever pay to assassinate ya?” rephrased to “Who’d ever wanna assassinate a B-tier waitress,” as if to mellow the sting of his first statement, both sounding equally hideous to your ears.

“Didn’t know waitresses have tiers,” your grip on the ladle tightened, voice gaining a sudden edge.

“Course they do, dummy. Waitresses who toss in extra ketchup packets automatically rise to C-tier. Then,” Toji grinned, “there are those who wear nothin’ under their little skirts and flaunt their asses over your face for extra tips— now, those are A-tier.”

He could tell you were holding back more than the groan you let out, two of your fingers hiking up your nose and pinching at the bridge.

“What about B-tier, mister diner-expert?” you faked a smile, teeth trembling beneath pursed lips.

It was so easy to get under your skin. Shame he couldn’t say the same about your panties.

“A mix of A and C. They give ya bonus ketchup and let their ‘assets’ dangle for free, but—”

The savory aroma of oyster sauce flooded his senses, distracting his thoughts and diverting his attention from the threat your ladle posed until it batted his hand away from the pan with a vicious swing.

“—Slap ya before you can whip out your wallet,” he growled.

“As if your wallet contains anything other than soapland cards and betting slips from ‘98.”

Green eyes darted to the ceiling, a soundless whistle between his puckered lips.

“You don’t have a wallet, do you?” you said as if it was the greatest revelation of the century.

“Don’t need one,” he glared.

You sighed. “There seem to be a lot of things you don’t need.” The ladle tapped against the pan’s side for the excess grains to drop. “Or at least things you claim you don’t.”

“Need? Nah. Want, though?” Toji quickly bounced back, mischief beaming in every aspect of his expression while he rubbed his palms together like some pesky housefly.

“I can think of a few, roomie.”

“Gonna keep it up with that nickname?” you tutted.

“Don’t like it?” You shook your head. “Alright, pitch in some ideas, ‘m all ears.”

“What kind of pretentious asswipe picks their own nickname?” You shoved past him to fetch another container from the fridge, a hint of green glinting underneath the transparent lid. Uh-oh.

“The kind who refuses what others call ‘em.” His neck craned forward as he propped himself against the counter.

The view was much better from that angle. He was able to notice details he previously missed, such as the drops that’d gathered on your forehead from working over heat for so long, how your lips twitched to find the perfect comeback, or the loose strand of hair that dangled dangerously close to his eyes, inspiring him to play with it like a cat mindlessly yanked on a ball of unraveled yarn.

“I have a name, you know.” You caught onto his staring and tucked the hair behind your ear. Tsk.

“Boring,” he yawned.

“Did you just call my name boring?”

“Nah, called you boring, smarty pants.” Toji cocked his head. “Oops. Couldn’t help it.”

It was your turn to scowl, and he’d be damned if the way your fingers clutched onto the counter didn’t bring a stretch to his lips. More so than aspiring to be the one who made you smile, he took pride in being the only one who could annoy you to such great extents.

“Won’t be able to help if your tongue ends in your plate either,” you snarled.

The Tupperware opened to reveal a sea of disgusting green beads, confirming Toji’s worst fears as you stuffed your hand inside and began pouring them into the pan. Although he was nothing short of an omnivore, he never hid his distaste for the healthier nutrients of vegetables and legumes— peas included. You always tried to sneak them here and there, typically in his fried rice or curry, and every single time he’d leave the plate with enough pearls to string a necklace.

You were about to add in a second handful when the way his far more menacing green orbs drilled holes into your skull became apparent.

“Right—”

Your closed fist emptied the peas back into their container— or so would have happened, if it weren’t for the unforeseen snare around your wrist.

“What are you doin’ ?” Toji snapped.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered. “Forgot how much you hate that ‘stinky green shit’.”

“Well, they are stinky and green and taste like absolute horseshit,” he affirmed. “But you still like that shit, don’tcha?”

“I do, but-”

He dragged your hand above the fire, ushering your fingers open, while you stared at him in utter disbelief. “I’ll just spit ‘em out.”

A short breath hitched up your throat and you peeled your eyes off him, the words “How convenient” washed away once you escaped his grip and neared the sink, scrubbing your hands with soap and water.

Toji lingered around the stove a bit longer, sprinkling some more peas and a lot more ham into the pan to even things out. After all, ham was better than peas.

“And by the way,” he rubbed the greasiness against his apron. “There are better ways to shut me up.”

“Hmm?” you missed his voice under the running faucet. “What was that?”

“Said,” he moved closer, plucking the towel from the handle where it hang, and offering it to you with his most charming (read: sleazy) smile. “Could always shut me up yourself if ya wanted to.”

Reluctantly, you accepted the towel, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. He awaited your next outburst of “creative cursing” in about three seconds, but the longer you maintained eye contact, the thinner his patience wore. A million great things about you, but none of them made you any less of a pussy.

And he would have called you out on your one fatal flaw if a sequence of scenes in slow motion didn’t begin to unfold before his awestruck eyes: You beckoning him to come closer; Your slippers tipping forward and your fingers reaching out; A delicate stroke against the crown of his head, followed by another, and then another; Languid circles that didn’t comb so much as ruffled his hair; A tinge of oblivious red on his cheeks, and a conscious pink on yours; The affectionate warmth your voice basked in as you praised him, telling him he’d done well— and heavens, if he was asked what noble deed deserves such praise, he’d have no real answer to give.

And lastly, the shit-eating grin that plagued your lips as you seized victory. “See? Shut you up so easily.”

The part of him that urged to bite your hand in return for treating him like a damn puppy must have been neutered, considering the only conceivable thought that was left in his brain was to give you a reward befitting of a winner. An action more than a thought, and a reality more than imagery.

Without warning, his lips brushed over your skin, landing on your cheek in the gentlest way imaginable. Fleeting enough to convince him it didn’t register until he pulled away and saw your expression shift to that of a sore loser.

“W-what the h-hell was that?” you fumbled with your own words as if they were shoelaces bound together by some despicable bully— in that case, him.

And like every self-respecting bully, Toji enjoyed nothing more than watching his victims shudder. Your brows knitted and knees trembled at the slightest touch, making him wonder just what kind of reaction a kiss on the lips would elicit. Smirking at the notion, he knelt before you to lift the towel you’d dropped, and with a rapid flinch, he settled it on his shoulder.

“Warned ya.” He ignored your attempts at extracting further information as he walked over to the stove and pinched a pea straight from the pot, cringing as soon as it grazed his tongue.

“Stinky green shit.”

The next frame in your newly-assembled album of domestic bliss depicted a trope far too common for those familiar with 1950s movies. The spent husband who’d returned home after a tiresome day at work sprawling his limbs on the nearest kitchen chair available, fingers laced behind his head and biceps flexing in accordance, while the dutiful wife served him dinner with an extraordinarily loving smile carved on her dolled-up face. They’d sit together, laugh at how fortunate their one-dimensional lives were, and name each other “Honey”, if not “Dearest”. And of course, there would be pie for dessert!

But after the film had dried and all the smoke and mirrors were dispelled, what was left were the remnants of a reverie.

The only truth about the husband lay in how he’d spilled over your kitchen’s sole chair -the second of the set standing limp somewhere in the corner- and as for the wife, one could claim it was a honed habit, rather than blinded subservience that’d led her to the table with a most splendid dish in hand. This was as far as similarities went, for you were no husband and wife, and had no intention to break into chortles over your shared misfortunes. Besides, there was no cherry pie to justify such a crude act.

“About time.”

The last traces of pseudo-romanticism dispersed at the sight of Toji’s feet weighing down the table, the audacity in his tone tempting you to ask for a tip. This was no different than working overtime at Sakurai’s, except that old geezer, rotten as he were, always paid your extra hours. Toji, in all his unpredictability, wouldn’t waste the chance to suggest a tip of a different kind.

Casting his feet on the floor, Toji made room for you to drop his plate, and when you finally presented the finished product in all its glory —tomato-flavored fried rice tucked below a blanket of sheer gold and garnished with fine strings of ketchup— the small appreciative dimple etched on the left side of his lip felt like a privilege.

“Gonna keep loomin’ over my head like a vulture?” he gestured with his spoon.

You glanced at your own plate, and then at the broken down chair whose prayers to be fixed were never answered, and decided to dine alone in the living room. Some drama was bound to have its rerun on NHK, but before you could so much as round the table, an arm raised forward like a traffic barrier.

“There’s nowhere—”

“Here.” His other hand patted a seat on his thigh. “Don’t wanna kick ya out your own kitchen.”

“Are you serious?” You were doubtful of his invitation even as he dragged you onto his lap, your omurice all but growing wings and flying in the air.

“Dead serious,” he smirked, his knee parting your thighs while his non-dominant hand wrapped around your hip. “All nice and comfy, aren’t we?”

This is the opposite of nice and comfy, you meant to object.

You could feel everything. Every peak, every crevice, every bulging muscle of a body that was trained against its will to be hardened and rough, impenetrable to any weakness. And when you squirmed around to meet his gaze, they were the unreadable eyes of someone who’d played this game far too many times to keep count of his winnings— the bored eyes of someone who knew scoring another victory was merely a matter of minutes.

“You better not try anything weird, or I’m out,” you mumbled with less conviction than intended.

His thumb rubbed a languid circle against your hip bone as if to remind you of its presence. A battle of wits could go either way, but when it came down to raw physical strength, there was no slinking away unless he decided to let go first.

“Relax,” Toji assured with voice smooth as silk. “Just want us to eat together, that’s all.”

You had a hard time believing that was indeed all, and you were right not to, because no more than five bites into your ham-laden omurice, his knee bounced, and your legs were slung over his lap so effortlessly as though you’d moved them on your own. And in this new position, where his arm engulfed your waist from one end to the other and his fingers slyly cascaded down your skirt’s seams to brush against your bare skin— that was really all he did.

“We need new furniture,” you quavered.

“Nonsense,” he shrugged undisturbed, stuffing a spoonful in his mouth. “What did ya do with the money I gave ya?” he asked once he’d swallowed.

But you hadn’t.

“Hmph, Hmphight!” you grunted, quickly downing your bite with a chug of water. “Oh, right!” you rephrased. “Was gonna return what was left at lunch, but then you dropped the bomb on me and I forgot.”

“No need. Gave it so the kid spends it however he wants.”

“Kenzo is only eight, Toji. If I gave him the money, he’d spend it all on a mountain of cotton candy and umaibo. Got him a nice car-racing set and that was it.”

“Lame,” he sneered, your body involuntarily bending forward as he reached for his glass.

You were compelled to watch the rise and fall in his throat, lips glistening with clear droplets that dribbled to his chin. Some, he wiped with the back of his palm, while others, his tongue licked clean, and you silently wondered if there was a right and wrong way to do something this trivial, because if that was the case, then Toji’s way could only be right.

He made drinking water seem entrancing.

The next dive was imminent, but this time you were prepared. You curled closer to his chest and trusted in his arms that deliberately dipped lower than needed, cradling you even after he’d let go of his plate. You were pleased to find a single-digit number of peas remaining.

You are growing as a person, Zen’in Toji.

His gravelly voice snapped you from your thoughts. “Then, you keep the rest.”

“Well, we could use the rest to buy some extra furniture, such as a bed, a sofa, or… a chair,” you emphasized the last beat.

“Aren’t ya the sensible one?”

His fingers crept under your skirt to bestow a light squeeze on your thigh, a haughty smile spreading to his lips. It baffled you how he acted on every single impulse without hesitance. Just pure action and reaction. Zero contemplation whatsoever.

You interjected before he could get any funnier ideas and peeled his hand off— or at least dragged it to a less risque area of your body.

“And as the sensible one, I get to call the shots,” you declared. “We are goin’ tomorrow.”

A few murmurs of protest buzzed in your ears though none significant enough to defy you. He agreed to drive you wherever as long as you paid for gas, and it was fair, considering he was paying for everything else. And when you recited the list of chores around the house that were postponed due to either lack of height, strength, or sheer laziness, and he inaudibly acquiesced, you thought that this just might work.

“So, you’re crashing the couch tonight?”

No answer.

“Toji?”

“You smell nice,” he blurted seemingly out of the blue, with a strand of your hair wrapped around his forefinger and held near his nose.

“Not letting you use my shampoo,” you scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant, idiot.”

He released your hair with a not-so-gentle yank, coaxing a high-pitched squeal.

What an asshole.

“You’d smell nice too if you ever used something with fragrance,” you said.

“Suggestin’ I reek?” Toji glared.

Much to his dismay, a snort preceded your answer. “That’s not what I meant either, idiot. All I’m saying is you have no real smell. Every self-respecting playboy oughta ‘t least smell like cheap hotel and drugstore cologne, or smoke, or you know. Something sleazy that screams ‘I’ll hump and dump you.’”

His expression remained sour, almost defensive. You should’ve just taken the compliment. A grumpy Toji could turn insufferable in minutes.

“Hey, I-”

“Work calls for it,” He cocked his head. “Can’t be invisible if I leave a trail of peaches and jasmine back.”

“It’s gardenia, actually,” you smiled.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

Even as he faced away from you, his fingers refused to unlatch from your waist—and truthfully, you wouldn’t mind staying like this a while longer. On a typical Friday night, you’d be stuck in front of the TV with a cup of Nissin Noodles, too tired from your shift to consider going through your contacts for some cheap company, and too prideful to hit him up only to have some bimbo answer his phone instead. But he was there now and you felt relieved you didn’t have to stay awake in a cold bed, wondering what color handbag his newest conquest carried and whether it matched her five-inch heels— but most of all, you were relieved that bickering in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“You like your job, Toji?”

You brushed up a question you’d asked far too many times throughout the years and whose answer remained quizzically the same; “Dunno.”

“Don’t you ever want to quit?” you pressed on. “Shower yourself with an absurd amount of perfume, or go ‘round stomping your feet really loudly?”

“Are those supposed to be your arguments for me to quit?” His eyes rolled to the back of his skull while he leaned against his chair. “I’ll raise ya this. Easy cash and double-digit annual workload, versus however many hours you work at that rathole for breadcrumbs. That settles it?”

“Money has nothing to do with enjoyment,” you said.

His tongue clicked into a sharp sigh. “It’s the one thing I can do.”

“That’s not true. There’s plenty you can do!”

You punched his shoulder playfully, and he couldn’t be less thrilled to find what you’d come up with.

“You really showed those carrots who’s the boss," you chuckled. "And, you’re not half as bad as a human chair. Got a bright future ahead of you.”

“You want me to quit?”

His sudden question threw away whatever light-hearted atmosphere and tossed it in the trash, voice cutting with the sharpness of a hundred razors.

“It’s not my place to tell you whether you should or shouldn't quit, Toji.”

“I’ll quit if you ask me to.”

The silence felt… weird. Like a forced cliffhanger in the middle of an episode, your answer gaining more weight than it ought to. However long you postponed, the commercial break never came, and you were left staring into a pair of eyes that flickered back and forth between a state of narrowness and wideness. Of patience and demand. Of sincerity and uncertainty. Of trust and distrust.

Even for a second, he’d put his fate in your hands, and you held onto it so scarcely as if the wrong kind of shake would break it— would break him.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” you confessed, warmth spreading from your voice to where your fingers found purchase on his cheeks, soft thumbs rolling unhurriedly against flushed skin. Because you are precious to me.

“If you got another scar,” you continued “it’d be as if you are permanently frowning. Or,” You nudged the left corner of his mouth upward, “smiling.”

And what was about to come next, you should’ve been able to predict because all the signs were there— His absolute compliance and relish for the slow, kneading motions of your fingers; The intensity in his stare waning past heavy eyelids; The hand that moved higher up your back and the one that wrapped behind your neck to reel you in; His lips eagerly parting before they even had the chance to meet with yours.

The incoming storm gathered one dark cloud at a time, though it took the first drop of rain for you to heed the warnings of your bleary conscience.

“Don’t,” you whispered one breath away from sharing his.

Toji was all but disheartened, his eyes focusing solely on your mouth and ignoring what came out of it. “Let me kiss you.”

The softness in his tone kept you from turning around until the last minute, your aversion rousing spite in him. “I said, let me fucking kiss you.”

And while his hand moved patiently the first two times, it forcefully pushed you onto him the third, your last line of defense being your fingers as they were caught in the crossfire of his lips.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why the hell not?” he hissed.

“Because…”

Because we can’t— an all-time classic.

Because we are friends— an excuse.

Because I don’t want to— a lie.

Because it won’t end at just a kiss— a truth.

And finally, the real reason; Because I love you.

Tears threaded your eyelashes, your vision of Toji turning watery, yet not blurry enough to drown the cadence of emotions in his eyes. Confusion, hurt, and anger. So much anger that it stifled all potential answers and seared your fingertips which were still attached to his lips, and as shallow as it sounds, you were ecstatic to find the one spot that was utterly soft in his slanted scar.

If a scar is evidence of pain, what is evidence of heartbreak? If scars are healed pain, what becomes of a pain that never heals?

Your thumbs slid across his jaw and returned to your sides, the lump in your throat dissolving into a broken sigh as you attempted to dismount from his lap.

“Because new rule: no kissing your roommate unless their life depends on it.”

“Like hell, I agreed to this,” Toji grunted, his grip -desperate now- bruising your waist.

Just when you thought your self-hatred reached its peak, you shoved his hands off your body and jolted up, legs slightly numb from balancing on his for so long.

“Agreed or not, my house, my rules. If you can’t respect that, there’s the door” you snapped, sending whatever desire might have sparked straight to the guillotine.

“So what’s it gonna be?”

His fingers wove through raven hair, his palm concealing the blown pupils as they reached their crescendo; fury.

A pang echoed against the hollow table, followed by the slight reverberation of the cutlery in the plates, his fist the sole culprit. He scoffed, muttering to himself something about blue balls and rules that were meant to be broken, profanities that could make even a sailor’s ears turn red spilling left and right until he gritted his teeth and locked in his final answer.

“Better brace yourself then, because I’m getting that kiss, be it in life, or in death.”

tags: @absoluteindulgence , @evansuvamp , @sarwhorius , @liluvtojineteyam

Anyone else, comment so I can tag your @.

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basilone · 2 months

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Rating: M Fandom: Masters of the Air Characters: Benny DeMarco, Gale Cleven, Original Female Characters, mentions of other characters because they do not live in a bubble here Note: features canon-typical refs to death/dying etc., but if you watch the show you can handle this fic just fine. The only thing you gotta know about this AU before you start is: the history's the same, but there are women added to the bomber crews. References to Catholic imagery and the Italian-language prayers (Our Father/Hail Mary), as well as Benny hailing from Chicago in this one, are firmly based in fact. You might recognize fractions of episode 3 in this one, though it's not a play-by-play retelling by any means! Summary: Benny DeMarco omits one line from his prayers every time he pilots a bomber. The only time he speaks of mortality is when his feet hit the ground. Now, on a run that takes him all the way to Africa, he finds himself connecting with someone who'll call upon anything that's useful – from saints to baseball players – in order to make it out alive.

full of grace

He has lost count of how many Hail Marys he has held in his mind like rosary beads. Ave Maria, piena di grazia… Benny almost raises his eyes to the cockpit’s ceiling in supplication. Fixes his gaze on the point between the flak and debris instead – on that bright blue sky, colored like the robe on Mary’s statue back home – and rounds out the prayer that is taking shape in his mind. Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, please fucking save us, prega per noi peccatori, give us a goddamn break, amen.

There is a part to the prayer he does not bring into flight with him. Can’t. Bad luck all around to even think it, especially now that they’re so close to target. He’d have to do more than rap his bare knuckles on the strip of wood near his seat to ward that off. Would have to pray a thousand more Hail Marys, tumbling into the recesses of his thoughts like a game of marbles, before he’d feel safe flying this thing again.

There’s some things you just don’t take up with you. You don’t take fights. You don’t take grudges. You don’t take pictures of dames – no, Buck, not even Marge-with-the-pretty-smile – and you don’t take a completed prayer. It’s just common sense, like the dice and the strip of leather from Meatball’s harness he pocketed pre-flight. You take the things that bring luck. Leave out all the rest. Live with the feeling of your teeth about to rattle out of your skull with each hit you take, the twang of fear thicker on your tongue than the strongest liquor could ever be, and say a little half-moon prayer on every next breath.

And then, well, then there is that sweet, sweet feeling of being almost there.

[read the rest on AO3!]

#masters of the air #mota #bernard demarco #gale cleven #mota oc #oc: stella #basilonefic #I wrote a 5k goodiebag!#that I really really hope people will enjoy

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cod-dump · 1 year

Text

*Graves is ignoring Soap*

Soap: *grabs Graves’ phone when he gets a message*

Soap: Oh, Price just texted! “Burgers or meatballs for dinner?”

Soap: I’ll text back for you! “Same thing bitch. Just different shapes”

*Soap puts the phone down which immediately blows up in texts*

Graves: YOU FUCKER YOU DID NOT JUST SEND THAT!

Soap: Told you I’ll make you regret ignoring me~

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #john soap mactavish #phillip graves #john price #pricegraves #incorrect quotes

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chronicpixle · 2 months

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“My princess” A Valentines Dazai x Reader Fanfic

Fem reader! Smut!

Nobody knew that Dazai actually took valentines seriously, I mean all he ever really did was try to commit suicide. That’s what shocked you when he offered you a rose and box of chocolates when you came to his house for dinner. It wasn’t unusual for him to get you gifts but this seemed more…genuine? “Happy Valentines Day princess.” You looked at him, in utter shock and disbelief as he gently put the little trinkets in your hands. “Who me?” Dazai raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “You’re the only one at my house.” You nod, your mouth still agape from the sudden sweetness of your boyfriend. “Are you not happy? If you want I can get you something a little more expensi-.” You shout and cover his mouth. “NO! This is perfect I…thank you so much.” Dazai smiles through your hand and takes you into the living room, where some pasta and wine awaits you two. “Dazai you never told me you like wine.” He chuckles and rubs the back of his head. “I don’t, I prefer liquor but I know today is important to you.” You smile at his persistent behavior, he never acted like this it almost gave you a dreadful feeling. “Why are you acting so sweet? This isn’t like you.” Dazai tilts his head is obvious confusion before sitting you down on the couch next to him. “I love you, why wouldn’t I do something special for my little lady?” You chuckle and press your lips against his, he holds you close and sways side to side as he plays with them hem of your dress. You pull away, wiping the strand of spit connecting your lips. “We should probably eat yeah?” Dazai nods and feeds you a meatball. You chuckle as he feeds you like a child but you don’t mind, it’s sweet in an odd way? Once you two finish your meals he takes your hand and leads you down a rose petal path into his bedroom. As he opens the door the room is filled with a lemony scent and heart shaped candles all over. “Dazai, you’re going all out this year hm?” He chuckles and takes you into the bathroom before taking off your heels and dress. “Shall my beautiful princess take a bubble bath?” Your eyes glisten as he picks you up and places you into the tub. He slides his tie and suit off. You look away as he takes his boxers off and gets in the tub. He places you on his lap and lays your head on his chest, you smile as the heat from his body and the tub gives a warm aroma as if a blanket is surrounding you. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” You shake your head, all you want is to spend tonight with your love and relax as he treats you like his own little princess. Dazai sighs as he runs his fingers up and down all the curves and crevices of your build. The feeling is tingly, you can’t help but start laughing as he touches your sides. “What? Are you ticklish belladonna?” You nudge him with your elbow and giggle. “You know where I’m ticklish asshole.” He kisses your neck before nuzzling his nose into it. “I’m just fucking with you baby, I know all the spots. Every last one.~” The change in his voice made your stomach sink, not in a bad way but you had..butterflies?!? “Osamu you-“ He covers your mouth and kisses your ear and neck before sliding his hand down your body. “Let’s just go to my room, hm?” You nod as he takes his hand from your mouth and helps you get out of the bath. Once he gets out he dries you off with a towel and sends you into the room, after a few minutes he’s practically towering above you.

“Does my princess want to feel good tonight?” You sit down on the bed and blush as you try to cover your body. “Please..?” Dazai nods as he lays you on the bed and spreads your legs. “Wait Dazai! I…” He looks at you before placing his hands on either side of your shoulders, hovering above you. “Yes my love?” You can’t look him in the eyes as you look to the side. “I’m…scared.” Dazai sighs and picks you up before sitting on the bed and placing you on his lap. “I promise I won’t hurt you belladonna, do you want to start slow?” You nod, still slightly shaking from fear. Dazai holds you close as he sucks the buds on your chest, he watches as your eyebrows furrow from the sudden pleasure. His voice muffled from your breast practically filling his mouth. “Does it feel that good princess?” You nod, covering your mouth to prevent yourself from getting too loud. He removes your hand and lays you down on the pillow. “Do I have your consent beautiful?” You look at his brown eyes and nod but he shakes his head no and places his fingers on your chin. “Use your words princess, do I have your consent?” You manage to utter a desperate “yes” and he smiles before placing your legs over his shoulders. You close your eyes as he kisses and laps at your pussy. It..tickles? But you push his head up to get him focused on your clit, that’s where the moaning starts. He smiles before kissing and sucking the swollen nub. He slides his middle finger into your hot pulsating hole before groaning into your pussy, only making the stimulation more intense. “Osamu..please be a bit rougher..~” He nods into your pussy and presses against your cunt even harder, fingering your faster and faster before adding another finger. You arch your back and grab onto his fluffy brown locs and squeal his name. He rests his head against your thigh and smiles as you get closer to your orgasm. As you squirm he pulls away and takes his fingers out. “Do you want my cock belladonna?” Your teary eyes and shaky breath makes his dick twitch in excitement, he chuckles and slaps your pussy with his throbbing cock. “How bad do you want it, love?” You slide your hand down to his cock, stroking it and desperately telling him you want it inside of you, he smiles and kisses you before slowly pressing the tip in, hoping to not hurt you. “Does it hurt?” You shake your head and close your eyes to relax yourself. Dazai kisses and sucks on your neck, leaving a dark bruise before giving it a small peck to reduce the slight sting. The tension is too much for you to handle as he continues to move in and out of you, his full length isn’t even in you and you still feel like he’s in your stomach. “Osamu…I feel so full.” Dazai holds your hand so gently it makes your heart melt, he slows down his pace and takes his time with that beautiful body of yours, sliding his free hand on your thighs and ass, giving them light snacks every now and then. “Does it feel good when I’m slower like this?” You nod, biting your already red and swollen lip. Dazai stops you by kissing you deeply and pushing himself all the way in you. You squeal and arch your back as your orgasm finally comes, Dazai sighs and twitches before almost pulling out. You wrap your legs around his waist and push him as deep as he can go. “Please..cum inside of me.” Dazai pants before nodding, he nuzzles his face into your neck and a thick liquid invades your insides. Dazai groans as the finishes inside of you and takes himself out.

“Thank you” you whisper into his ear as he lays face first on the bed pant in like a dog. “Mhmm…” Dazai groans as he continues to hold your hand. Once he catches his breath he gets up and carries you to the bathroom. After your business is done he picks you up and puts you underneath the covers where he holds you so gently as if you’re a porcelain doll. “Happy Valentines Day.” You kiss him and tangle your fingers in his dark dirty locs. “Thank you, my prince.” He squeezes you a bit tighter and lets you fall asleep in his defined arms. “Goodnight, my princess”

Author’s note: Hi dolls yes I’m alive, I just haven’t had any motivation until Dazai came to mind (I love him). I might be inactive again bc I have to get my wisdom teeth pulled soon though 💔💔💔

#dazai osamu #smutty #smut #aftercare #bungou stray dogs #valentines day #dazai x reader #i love dazai #pet names

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thesunshineriptide · 2 years

Note

Hello! Saw you were looking for twst requests so how about how a first date with the nrc freshmen go? (Or the vice house wardens if you prefer) I actually love both groups so much ;w;

I did all the first years and two vice house wardens because I love the vice house wardens very much I am a simp

For the Very First Time

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Jack, Jade, Jamil, Epel, Sebek

Tw// sickness, Jade typical behavior, fish, food

Ace

* You and Ace probably begin dating in early October

* Probably asks you out really casually when you’re just hanging out

* Not the type to ask you with a grand gesture, but he comes off a little shy

* For your first date, he’s taking you to the cinema

* It’s October, which means there’s lots of horror movies out

* He’s the type to make you pay for yourself, but he isn’t taking you somewhere fancy so it doesn’t cost you much

* You guys decide to go see a horror movie because he’s doing the macho thing where he’s like “I’ll protect you”

* He’s fine for the first half hour but he starts freaking out

* Laugh at him for being a dumbass please

* Both of you sneak out while someone’s getting murdered on screen and slide your way into Minions: Rise of Gru

* This is the best choice ever because you both have no idea what’s going on and end up just cuddling in the back of the theater.

* Ace probably throws popcorn at you

* After the movie he’ll take you for a walk

* Unfortunately it starts raining and you two get caught in it

* He takes off his jacket and holds it over your head as you run into a cafe for shelter

* He buys you a cookie as an apology

* Next day he has a cold and whines to you about it while he asks you for another date (and a get better kiss)

* Overall: 6.5/10 it was kinda a shitshow but he’s cute and trying his best

Deuce

* Deuce probably asks you out mid April

* He takes a long time to confront his emotions and psych himself up

* He totally asks you out and gives you flowers (red roses, with one blue one, all from Heartslabyul’s gardens and painted by himself)

* He’d probably ask you out privately as well, and stumble over every few words nervously

* Your first date is at his dorm actually

* He’s been working really hard on two things:

* Making the perfect spaghetti and meatballs

* And learning to make cookies

* Goes out of his way to get permission from Riddle and Trey to do this because he doesn’t want to piss them off

* His spaghetti is pretty good, actually

* Once you’re done eating and chatting, he invites you to make some chocolate chip cookies with him

* How could you say no to a face like that?

* You two have a great time making a mess

* Freaks out when you eat a little bit of cookie dough because he thinks you’re gonna die

* You two drink hot chocolate while the cookies are baking and he does them fancy.

* Whipped cream, marshmallows, cinnamon, and animal shaped crackers are on top

* The cookies come out a little overdone but it’s okay because they were made with love

* Walks you home

* If you forgot your jacket, he gives you his because he’s a good boy

* The next day you guys hold hands on the way to class

* Overall: 8/10 he’s so pure and sweet but very nervous and you saw him reading over some notes he wrote on his palm to make sure he was doing things right

Jack

* He’s the type of guy to fall in love with you slowly

* He asks you out in early December

* Maybe he’s soft, but seeing fairy lights go up and the smell of warmth makes him wanna cuddle up

* He asks you out at lunchtime

* Pays for and brings you your lunch when he asks you, avoiding eye contact the whole time

* Tail wags when you say yes

* First date is to a holiday fair

* There’s a little ice skating rink, it’s flurrying out, and you can smell roasting nuts and cider down the block

* Takes you earlier in the day on a weekend, which means it’s a little packed, but he never loses you

* He’s paying for the date, anything you want you get

* Probably shares a soft pretzel with you

* If you ask him to ice skate he pretends he isn’t excited

* Will guide you around the rink, holding onto you carefully the whole time

* Buys you hot apple cider or hot cocoa

* Every time your face seems to get a little red he reaches over and readjusts your scarf or jacket

* “You have to keep warm, I don’t want you getting sick.”

* If any of the crafts/clothes/ornaments in the stalls interests you, he will get it for you without a peep

* Takes you home in the late afternoon and doesn’t leave until he’s sure you don’t have hypothermia

* Overall 7/10 he’s a gentleman but he’s also a tsundere

Jade

* Jade would probably take years to warm up to you

* Definitely after you’ve both graduated college is when he’s ask you out

* Probably in may-ish?

* It’s beginning to warm, things are springing back to life

* He knows exactly how to charm someone

* Brings you a token of his affections (a necklace with a Jade pendant)

* Invites you to take a walk with him before he asks you out

* On your first date he takes you to an art museum

* He pays for your date, his pride would be wounded if you didn’t let him

* Looked up a map to get a layout of the museum first and checked the flow of traffic through it over the course of two weeks so he could pick the time when there’s least amount of people there, and figured out where to start

* Walks with you slowly, occasionally commenting on an art piece he knows about

* Mostly just chats with you about anything that comes to mind

* You will probably hold up 78% of the conversation so just be prepared

* He doesn’t think about conversational stuff because he’s not uncomfortable with silence. He just likes being around you

* But Jade is Jade so you probably already know that

* After you’re done with the museum he’ll take you for a walk to a pier where you can admire the beach

* If you drag him into the sand he spends most of the time watching you or collecting shells

* Walks you home when you seem tired. WILL have you wear his jacket even if you’re not cold

* Once you’re at home he gifts you the seashells he collected (with you in mind) and kisses your hand as he bids you farewell

* Grab him by the collar and give him a kiss. He’ll be so flustered you might actually get a real smile out of him

* The next day he walks you to your classes, alternating between carrying your books and intertwining your pinkie fingers

* Overall: 7.3/10 points off for accidentally making it awkward but points back for being swoon worthy

Jamil

* Jamil will crush on you for months before asking you out

* Also, he doesn’t ask you out

* No, Kalim intervenes because Jamil is grumpier than usual by ambushing you both with a date.

* It happens on Valentine’s Day, aka the day where sad bitches are saddest

* Kalim begs Jamil for some help with a mystery date he has for his valentine and asks him for his advice and help planning

* Basically, Jamil does the whole thing while Kalim is rubbing his hands together with an evil smile in the background

* It turns out he asked you the same thing, but instead he tasked you with retrieving flowers and a gift for ‘his’ sweetheart

* Cue confused noises when you and Jamil cross paths and Kalim just goes “happy Valentine’s Day!!” And dips

* So, uh, surprise, you and Jamil are on a date now

* It’s awkward for a few minutes before you start laughing at Kalim’s antics, prompting Jamil to laugh too

* “I mean, I was planning on asking you today, but I thought you’d be too busy wrangling Kalim.”

* Jamil’s face heats up and he pushes down a smile, “I was planning on asking you, but then I was busy wrangling Kalim.”

* You two talk over some of Jamil’s cooking, chatting happily about anything and everything and your misadventures in fulfilling Kalim’s requests

* Jamil is softer that night, because apparently Kalim went off to bother Azul since he’s bitchless and responsible, which means he’s in nirvana

* He doesn’t walk you home but he does go pick up Kalim from daycare, and you aren’t far away, so he might as well pop in for a minute…

* You two end up making out on your couch for the rest of the night

* Morning after he’s gone, but he made you breakfast and left it in the fridge with a note asking you out on a second date

* Overall: ???/10 your first date wasn’t planned but it was fun once you got over that

Epel

* Epel doesn’t have the balls to ask you out, okay?

* You’re asking him out

* You just sort of slide up to him while he’s carving apple birds in the cafeteria and ask him if he wants to go apple picking with you

* Immediately says yes, is not aware it’s a date

* Once you two nail out the details of when you’re going, he finally catches up to the fact it might be a date

* This is confirmed when you shoot him a text the day before asking if he’s still cool with the date

* He’s squealing, kicking his feet in the air, screaming into his pillow

* Vil ends up telling him to shut up it’s literally 10:30 at night

* He almost gets too excited about the date that he doesn’t sleep

* He does get a few hours of shuteye once he nails down every detail

* He picks out the best outfit, best shoes, checks his bank account and oh dear lord that’s so empty flies are coming out of it, he even takes a shower on his own

* He has butterflies in his stomach when you come to the dorm to pick him up

* He’s dressed like a cowboy and a lumberjack at the same time please don’t comment on it

* When you arrive at the apple orchard he’s bouncing around like a kid in fuckin Disney world

* Infodumps about apples

* Also comments on the quality of apples and talks about his family’s farm

* He needs help reaching the apples please help him he’s too short

* Has 0 chill but he’s really cute

* Will pick apples specifically so he can make you some apple pie later

* You’re paying for the date, right? He never asks, but never offers to pay either so you can just assume

* Apple boy is excited because it’s his three favorite things at once: you, being covered in dirt, and apples

* He doesn’t bother pretending to be prissy here because he knows you won’t hold it against him, you asked him out you know he’s a gremlin

* Takes home way too many apples with a bright grin on his face and on the way back he tells out funny stories about his childhood

* Falls asleep on your shoulder after a while

* You end up having to carry him inside because he is snoring like a trucker and refuses to wake up

* Next day he shows up at your place carrying a homemade apple pie

* Overall: 4.6/10 he’s having the time of his life which is fun but he’s an acquired taste. His pie is tasty though

Sebek

* He begrudgingly asks you out in March because Lilia told him he needs a life outside of Malleus

* He actually does like you, but maybe not enough to warrant a date just yet, those feelings are still blooming, yknow?

* His idea of a date is taking you to an aquarium and telling you about all of the animals, regardless of if you’re interested

* It’s kind of nice to have someone playing tour guide

* The date has a pretty platonic feel to it aside from the fact that you are forcibly holding Sebek’s hand as you walk around

* “It’s so I don’t get lost!” “I WILL NOT LOSE YOU, HUMAN, THERE ARE FIVE OTHER PEOPLE PRESENT”

* The only time he quiets down is when you reach the underwater exhibit, where he pauses for a moment to just stare at the water

* He begins to quietly tell you some of his more secret thoughts, and is surprised when you lean in to hug his arm and lean your head on his shoulder

* “I think you’re doing amazing, Sebek.”

* He’s softer when you walk through the rest of the aquarium, and even buys you a crocodile plush that you name Sebek Jr.

* He refuses to refer to the plush as his son, but he does blush and get very flustered

* He pays for your lunch, but he also orders for you so there’s that

* “It’s what Lilia-sama recommends!” (It tastes like ass, but it’s free)

* Walks you and Sebek Jr home, bows when you’re about to go inside

* Gets very flustered when you peck his cheek

* Decides that it wasn’t that bad and perhaps he might invite you for another date some other time, but he’s really just not ready for that yet

* The next day you two are closer but not really in a romantic sense yet. You’re both young and Sebek needs a lot more time to really come out of his crocodile cave

* He will absolutely get flustered if he ever sees you and Sebek Jr around again though

* Overall: 5/10 it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t knock your socks off amazing either. You know a bunch of fish facts now though and he paid so

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