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deantfwinchester · 21 days

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Hands

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader as usual (let's just assume these No-Outbreak Joels are all the same couple tbh), established relationship

Summary: Friday nights are reserved for sweatpants and relaxation, of course. But when Joel's work week leaves his hands a bit worse for wear, the night may need to include a break for a little extra attention.

Warnings: extreme fluff once again. expect it at this point. i'm a one-trick pony, i fear.

A/N: finally got around to putting one of my many bulleted notes-app idea fics into paragraph form again! Will we get another one before the year's out? It's anyone's guess! -_-

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Friday nights are your favorites. No dinner to cook or rattling rolodex of tasks to come in the next twelve hours give you both a little room to breathe — to gently unwind from yourselves and into one another. It’s typically quiet, and when it isn’t, the volume is born of laughter from games or stories the three of you share.

Joel comes home from an exceptionally long week. You know he’s been on site every day—the whole team has—working longer and longer hours to wrap up the latest project before the client’s deadline. You’re pleased to hear his keys rattle in the door not long after five o’clock, and relieved because the air’s rapidly cooling earlier each night. Daylight Savings time is coming to an end, and today he barely beat the sunset getting home.

You know the hour means little, however, and are less than astonished at the weary grin he bears on catching sight of you and Sarah on the couch when he walks in the room. She’s already got her purse on her shoulder, eager to head out when her friends arrive, and she’s excitedly recounting the events of the trailer for the movie they’ll be catching tonight. He stands idly in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the two of you chat. You make brief eye contact and smile back, assuring you know he’s there. Neither of you wants to interrupt her avid storytelling.

“Well don’t you sound excited?” he says when she pauses to catch her breath. You both turn to greet him, and he moves more quickly toward you as you attempt to rise, gesturing to you to remain seated. He’ll come to you both.

He plants a kiss on top of Sarah’s head before leaning down to kiss you as he does each night. You place a hand on his chest and pause when he pulls back to get a good look at his face. You see the fatigue in his droopy-eyed smile, but can’t say anything to him. You already know it’s mirrored in your own expression.

The doorbell rings before either of you can speak again, and Sarah jumps up to head out the door. You wish her a good night, and he follows her to the door, checking for a familiar parent in the driver’s seat and seeing her off. You see him hand her some cash to go with his reminder to make good decisions, and he hugs her. You can’t help but giggle when she takes it with a wide smile.

He turns to you laughing when he sees she’s in the car, and shuts the door.

“What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion, but amused at the sound of your laughter.

“Smart girl. I gave her a 20 before you got home,” you grin back at him. He stills in understanding and rolls his eyes.

“You couldn’t tell me that two minutes ago?” he asks you in mock exasperation.

“But it’s so much funnier this way!” you add, giggling again. You both know he’s wrapped completely around her finger, though she so innocently does not. It’s one of the first things you noticed about him. One of the first reasons you fell in love.

He shakes his head fondly, and places a hand on his stomach, which begins to grumble softly at him. You raise your eyebrows and meet his gaze. “Any thoughts on dinner?” he asks, and you grin back at him in amusement.

“Handled. Pizza’s already on the way,” you respond and he feigns relief.

“You’re brilliant.” he says, walking up and grabbing your hand on the back of the couch. You run your thumb in little circles on the back of his hand and give it a light squeeze.

“Duh. Now go get changed! It’s do-nothing time starting now,” you respond, patting the top of his hand in encouragement.

“You read my mind,” he says, leaning down for another quick peck before heading off into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Naturally, you’ve been in sweats for over an hour now, shedding your own outfit immediately, peeling the school day from your skin. The unspoken uniform for these Friday nights is extremely specific.

The pizza arrives before Joel can even return from the bedroom in a feat of incredible timing. You’re gathering plates and filling glasses with ice when he emerges ready for the night. He moves forward to help you grab the dinner, but you shoo him away to the couch.

“Nope, I got this. You sit,” you say, lightly shoving his chest away. You leave no room for argument. He grumbles a bit and raises his hands, backing away to the living room. You follow behind him with the pizza and plates, and return once more for the drinks before settling next to him on the couch. He sits on one end, and you sit in the middle, leaving little room between you.

You lean forward, putting pizza on one plate you pass to Joel before grabbing your own, then settle back against the cushion, both sinking in so comfortably a nearly audible sigh fills the room. The comfort in this relief is palpable, and the decompressing can begin. You grab the remote and put on the series you’ve been binging together recently, more for background noise than anything else.

A few slices and sitcom episodes deep, you’ve set your plates down on the coffee table. With your bellies comfortably full, you’ve somehow slumped deeper, though Joel into the couch and you into his side. His arm is draped over the back of the couch behind you, and you’re nearly laying on him, head propped against his shoulder.

You hold his free hand in both of yours and absently play with his fingers for a second when you notice the aggressive wear this week has lent his hands. They’re a raw, angry red at the knuckles; his nails are cracked in some places and peeling in others. Moving your fingers gently down toward his wrist, you focus more directly on the state of his, catching sight of a few hangnails and stretched cuticles that can’t be comfortable. He looks down as you begin to worry them beneath the soft pads of your own fingers, and you meet his gaze, brows furrowed as you look between his face and hands.

“Keep doing that, please,” he says with a sigh before closing his eyes, “I wait all day to feel your hands on mine. They’re so soft.” He lifts your hand to his lips before pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. He loves the delicate, reverent way you play with his hands, like they’re small, fragile things in need of tender attention. You take his hand once again into both of yours and gently rub it between them, looking back up at him, concerned.

“How do yours feel? They look like they’re hurting you,” you gnaw a bit at your bottom lip in thought, and he tries to assuage your worry.

“I’m alright, darlin’. Nothing worse than I’m used to,” he says. He knows from your deepening frown that you’re less than satisfied with this response.

You couldn’t care less if he’s used to it, he shouldn’t be. You know the protective callouses forged there don’t mean those hands are unfeeling in the slightest.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” you say, rising from his side and hastening to the bedroom. It’s his turn to frown now, both in confusion and at the sudden draft that’s appeared at his side.

You return not a minute later with a small tote around your wrist, and hands filled with half the manicure items you own. You sit down next to him and unpack, laying clippers, files, cuticle oil, and two different hand creams — a lotion he’s seen you use regularly, and a jar that must be a new addition — on the coffee table in front of you, along with the selected polishes and remover you had in the tote bag. You’ve been meaning to do your nails, anyway.

Joel looks incredulously at you, unsure where this is going. Not that he’s a stranger to nail polish — he raised a little girl on his own long enough to have worn the rainbow on his fingers, but tonight?

“Sorry, no color for you today, honey. Certainly not before these are healed,” you say. He’d chip half your handiwork away by Monday afternoon anyway the way he’s been working lately. Facing him, you cross your legs on the couch and smile, holding your hand out expectantly for his. He raises his eyebrows at you, but places his palm gently in your own.

You grab the clippers and get to work on the hangnails first. Any peeling skin or cuticle right there at the nail you clip as gently as possible, making note of the reddened and slightly swollen areas at the base of his nail from which they protrude. Those will need careful attention at the end. He doesn’t squirm or react in any way, but you know they’re more sensitive than he’s letting on.

Next, you clip back any breakages and unevenness in the nails themselves. You’d never find Joel Miller with dirty hands — he gets them clean as soon as he gets home, but all the scrubbing it takes to keep them that way takes its toll. A little trim at their length might help reduce the need for so much each day upon his return.

After clipping, you grab his first hand again and rest it gently in the palm of your left while your right files steadily to even any rough edges left behind and prevent further injury. It won’t take much, but you’re sure to get them smooth so they won’t catch on anything or bother him later on.

The cuticle oil is next. He looks at it questioningly, clearly a bit skeptical, only having seen it a few times when you or Sarah used it. He’s never ventured so far himself. While you brush it gently onto each of his nails, you explain its purpose.

“This’ll just help your nails get a little stronger. It’ll get them hydrated a bit, keep ‘em from peeling so much when your hands get dry. It’s kinda crazy how much better this stuff is for your nails than even water is. Water’ll make the peeling worse, actually. Weird, huh?”

He just nods along, listening to you, content to learn something new as always. Finger by finger, you massage the oil into his nail and nail bed. After the first round you go back through to massage again, both to make sure no oily feeling is left behind, and to prolong the rapidly concluding process. He could use the attention, anyway.

Finally, you pick up the jar he identified as a new addition: a canister of a hand repair cream labeled for “Healing of dry or cracked skin.”

“Never seen that one before,” he says, reading the label, “What d’ya need this for? Your hands are never dry! I think they’ve been soft every time I’ve held 'em since the day I met ya,” he smiles at you, and you bashfully brush off the compliment.

“I don’t need it. I use the other one,” you say with finality, opening the jar and pulling the first of his hands into yours. You don’t grab a large dollop of the stuff. You don’t want him to feel a disconcerting weight, grease, or stickiness from this unfamiliar formula, so you get a little and begin. You add a bit more each time you reach a new spot on his knuckles, palms, wrists.

You take your time, gently massaging into those roughened, tender hands far more than a simple healing salve. He understands why you have the jar now, looking at you knowingly, and you smile back. No words need be exchanged.

Once you’ve finished the last finger and the last stroke on his hands, you squeeze the one in your own, then pat it gently with your other, “There. Gotta feel better now, yeah?”

Joel stares at you like he just watched you reach up and place the moon in the sky, if for no reason other than to light his path.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hand back and smiling reverently at you. You blush beneath his gaze and look away, unsure what to do with the admiration rolling off of him in waves. You lean back against the couch, file in hand as you start going at your own nails.

“Good. Don’t let 'em go that long again, either. Where they start hurtin’ ya? Maybe we oughta make this a weekly thing. Manicure night? Been needing someone to do my right hand,” you grin, wiggling the corresponding fingers at him. He smiles back at you, then reaches over and pulls you toward his side, back to your original position laying against him, head resting once again on his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says fondly into your hair, planting a kiss to your head in the process. You get comfortable once more, foregoing any plans to do your own nails tonight. You both know those “manicure nights” will be for him — and you’ve got Sarah to do your right hand already, when you do hers.

You grab the same free hand once again and admire your work, then lace your fingers between his own, and rest your twined hands on his leg. You’re satisfied knowing the hand behind you on the couch is comfortable now, healing from the week’s toils and melting into the comforting haze of the early autumn evening.

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thew1ldblueyonder · 9 months

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Forehead kisses are for friends?

Here's the thing about Robin and Steve; their friendship is one of a kind, and to the untrained eye their tactlessness, emotional and physical closeness could signal something romantic. But Eddie knows well that's not the case.

He does notice how much of their casual interactions go against the norm of platonic: sleeping in the same bed, sleeping on each other's laps, etc., but Eddie has never cared much about the norm. He himself goes very much against it, still a one man army facing off against conformity every day, at least in the little things.

The problem comes when he has to place himself into the equation that is Robin & Steve.

It happens like this:

Eddie hosts movie night. Normally Steve does, but this time he really wanted to do it. It seemed like a good idea.

Him, Jonathan, Argyle and Steve could smoke up a couple of joints - God knows they're all desperately in need of a distraction - and maybe Nancy would join in too - and if Nancy joins, Robin does too - and what better place to do that than at his trailer? The whole place already smells slightly of weed and the neighbors don't give a shit about it.

It's also a point of pride for him. Yes, the trailer is small. But it's alright. And he wants his newfound friends to find a home there, too. He wants to feel a little useful, at least.

So, people start arriving. Nancy drives Robin up, Jonathan and Argyle come together. Argyle is already spacey. Eddie's got the movie prepped, snacks on the table, and four traumatized monster hunters restlessly huddling up on his couch, and around it. He has placed some cushions on the floor as makeshift sitting places.

It's only Steve that's missing.

Robin and him are sitting on the floor, an empty cushion reserved for him between them, and she looks as restless as he feels.

See, Eddie's been kind if permanently on edge since the upside-down bullshit. He needs these people to be in places where they're supposed to be, when they're supposed to be. The whole thing kinda made him a control freak, sue him. But when his people are where he can see them he knows they're not in trouble. He knows they aren't getting pulled into the air, bones snapping like twigs...

When the door opens and Steve steps through with an apologetic smile Eddie lets out a relieved sigh. Robin perks up, and before Steve could even finish his explanation for his tardiness - something about keys, but Eddie thinks he's lying and would bet that he's just had a bad hair day and has been spending way too much time trying to fix it - she reaches for him, like a child wanting to be picked up.

Steve goes to her immediately, grabs her hands gently, and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

Not unusual. Eddie almost chuckles at the sweet and casual display of affection, ready to be jokingly snarky, to urge Steve to sit down, finally.

Except, faced with Steve Harrington, placing two hands on the side of his head and bending down, his head quiets immediately. It happens in an instant. Steve reaches down, and kisses him between his eyebrows, redirecting his bangs with one hand. It's short, and thank god for that, because Eddie stops breathing entirely for the duration of the thing. Just a quick platonic smack of lips.

He doesn't even notice the way Eddie sucks in a breath, frozen in place. Doesn't seem to see how he stays frozen, even after Steve sits down next to him, chatting idly with Argyle, leaning back against his leg. He's entirely unaware of his emotional turmoil.

Eddie blinks, his head fuzzy. The feeling of soft lips against his forehead still lingering. He looks ahead of him, and then looks at Robin, who's already watching him. She has an expression of curiosity, that he unfortunately cannot satisfy at all.

Steve doesn't kiss anybody else on the forehead.

Eddie spends the whole night thinking about it.

Was it just because he was also on the floor? Was it a bit? Did he somehow become part of the weird symbiosis that's Robin & Steve? Is he a platonic soulmate now?

Can he not be?

Can he get another kiss? (Preferably on the mouth.)

#steddie #steddie fic #Ficlet #st fic #TheWildBlueYonder fic #forehead kisses #I just wrote this real quick idk #just for fun #Pointless fluff just cuz I can #fluff without plot #Fwp? lol #I'm not even going to pretend this won't have a thousand mistakes #Roll with it pls #I'm way too tired

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starry-nights12 · 3 months

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Kinda obsessed with Jinx washing Ekko's hair??? Especially after days of not showering since his last dumpster dive(@oreo-oro-orero)

She massages his scalp and learns how to retwist his locs from him. She drys his hair, then carefully shaves his sides to freshen up his fade.

She made him loc jewelry for his hair and adds them as finishing touches. She inhales his hair deeply then releases a satisfied sigh.

"All done, Little man!" she hands him a hand-held mirror. He looks himself over and admires his reflection.

"I love it," he turns to her and smiles broadly. "Thanks, beautiful." He kissed her cheek and then she giggles happily.

#timebomb #ekkojinx #arcane #my post #my headcanons #fluff without plot #The Post™️#One of Jinx's love languages are acts of services #I love Jinx taking care of Ekko

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sparrowsworkshop · 2 months

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"Alighting the Darkness" by OneWingedSparrow for @dubiiousfood

This is my Loftwing Letter for @dubiiousfood, for the event hosted by @zelinkcommunity ! I hope you like this TP Zelink fluff! <3 Main Tags: Twilight Princess, Post-Canon, Married Zelink, Fluff without Plot Summary: Following the events of the Twilight, Zelda comes to realize how Link places light wherever she needs it. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The populace of Hyrule could perhaps say that they knew a “time before Twilight, and the two times thereafter.” Though most Hyruleans had been unknowingly turned to spirits during the curse over the kingdom, and, were therefore oblivious to the atrocities committed by the Usurper King Zant, they were nevertheless aware enough that, in the past, there had first been a time of grim foreboding; then, a time of great fear; and at last, a grand time where the great fear was graciously extinguished.

Queen Zelda, however, dwelt upon a different timeline. The time before Twilight, and the two times thereafter, mattered not nearly so much as these:

The time before Link, and all time thereafter.

She saw her Hero first in his accursed form of a blue-eyed beast; and, even in the darkness cast over the castle, everything about the wolf before her seemed to gleam. The iron shackle clinging to his leg, the grinning fangs escorting his growl, even the artful patterns streaking his dark fur with a lighter shade. A snarling predator stalking into her chamber should not have been a source of encouragement, but Zelda could sense the spirit within the flesh, and her weary eyes smiled faintly under her hood as she watched him stride towards her.

You are the light, she told him within her mind, as she removed her hood and his growling instantly ceased. The foretold, sacred light Hyrule desperately needs.

She beheld in him the Hero chosen by the gods. She foresaw in him the Hero destined to bring Hyrule back into the light, as a careful goatherd would direct his flock out of the storm and safely into shelter. In spite of her gifted Wisdom, however, she did not perceive in him the Hero chosen to guideherback into light as well. Such an epiphany revealed itself only during their future marriage.

Rebuilding the castle was a lengthy endeavor. While the structure was not demolished entirely, the brutal clash between Midna’s Fused Shadows and the demon beast Ganon left several stones unthroned. While the construction crews travailed the necessary renovations, the queen and her fiancé spent much time outdoors, in the quiet courtyards where pink and yellow flowers still dared to bloom, ever defiant towards the evil that once shadowed them.

Verily, Zelda might have found superior productivity in her study, where her paperwork was not at risk of being spied on by scouting ants or swept away by the teasing breeze. Even so, she chose to eschew her old habits. Her productivity might have lessened outdoors, but her motivation only increased. After all, how could she not be delighted by the golden-bodied beetles Link presented to her with a flourish, or the merry tunes he played for her on whistlegrass when no one else remained in earshot?

In the courtyard, with his subordinates standing vigil, Link never needed to be on constant guard, to uphold his duty as her appointed protector first and foremost. When they would travel Hyrule, of course, checking in on each province, he shouldered his responsibility with grave focus, standing tall as both the Hero of Twilight and the Captain of the Hylian Knights. But here, under the oak trees and the dappled sunlight, where the windchimes laughed and the stepstones wandered—here, as the beetles spread their wings and buzzed away from his open palms, and the blithe melody of the grass summoned a hawk to cheer a chorus—here, with her, he could be simply Link, grinning and teasing to make her smile even while she worked. It felt quite like a forgotten childhood come back to greet them, Zelda thought, or perhaps a bright tomorrow welcoming them anew.

A castle is a fortress first, a sanctuary second, and a home last of all. The larger a window, the more accessible an invader’s point of entry. Thus, many long corridors were illuminated only by braziers, their warmth spaced apart by the ghostly fingers of drafts ever haunting the stone walls. Over her lifetime, Zelda’s eyes grew accustomed to the enclosed dim; Link, however, had a newcomer’s keen eye for all improvements that could be made.

“It’s dark in here,” he said once of their bedchamber, as he scrutinized the curtains and ran his hand over the thick, embroidered fabric. “Does the brown color please you?” “It keeps out the sun,” Zelda replied, but her words suddenly sounded strange. She wrinkled her brow, and, stepping next to Link, reached out, tugging the two curtains away from each other. The day was overcast, but a grayish glow whispered into the room, gracing their boots with a shy, soft brightness.

She glanced at her husband. “How do you feel about ivory?”

From that moment onward, Link’s transformations of Zelda’s once dark world became all the more apparent. For the first time, she noticed the multiplication of candles around their dining table—most of them scented cheerfully with pumpkin, transported all the way from Beth’s Sundry. She counted the vases of bright-colored flowers strategically positioned around the Great Hall, like devoted soldiers standing at attention, and knew only one person who would trek so far into the forest to collect such particular, elusive species.

Her favorite of his transformations, however, was when Link commissioned the court artists to paint not a portrait of himself, as most royals would, but rather, a mural of the pastures of Ordona. The grass in the painting practically dripped with morning dew, and the circular horns of the goats glittered like fairy wings; a brilliant dawn broke through the dark woods beyond the flock, and spilling sunshine over the tranquil field.

That vision alone would have rendered the painting wonderful; but Link’s directions went further, and the artists happily delivered.

In the foreground stood a figure, facing the dawning sun—black cloak slipping from her shoulders, while the wind swept through her hair.

“Do you like it?” Link whispered in her ear, the day his surprise was revealed.

Only one thing would I change, she thought at first. Where are you in this lovely story?

Yet, when she turned towards him to ask, fierce, bright blue eyes caught hers, and she saw for a moment in him the wolf who once brought Courage to her gloom.

Enlightened, Zelda smiled.

“Of course,” she said, and cupped his face in her hands, to lose herself in his gaze just as the woman in the painting lost herself in the powerful sun.

You are the light...my light...as always.

#thanks for reading!#twilight princess #link #zelda #zelink #tp zelink #post canon #sparrow fics #alighting the darkness #fluff #fluff without plot #salt and light #zelink community #loftwing letters #loftwingletters24 #dubiiousfood

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chubbyreaderchan · 1 year

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you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter | Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warning: I write with a plus-sized reader in mind. Female reader. AU where Billy gets to be happy, no real plot, might need to actually come back to this but idk, I didn’t edit, and I was in my feelings for it.

“What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?” Billy asked.

His arms wrapped around her middle her head resting against his shoulder. He was dumb and a complete dickhead, he never saw what she had seen in him.

“I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch”

“Everything,” she said softly. Her fingers danced over his hand, tracing each part of the worked flesh.

He was peaceful there, watching yet not quite paying attention to the news on the TV. It had been two years since they ran away from Hawkins, sure it was still in Indiana. But it was freedom.

Freedom from his father. Freedom from hers. No need to run and hide or sneak into bedroom windows to be with her. He just has to come home and call her name, though there were some fond memories.

A lot of firsts happened with her in his bedroom in his dad’s house. She was the first girl he’d let leave shit in his room and not immediately throw it in the trash.

“Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place”

“It wasn’t like you didn’t fight for me,” she teased.

Billy swallowed.

“We’re still fighting, sweetheart,” Billy replied.

“I know, I’m trying to get a manager position at the restaurant,”

Billy grunted, annoyed. He hated that she worked, sure, feminism or whatever, but he didn’t want her working. He lived for the idea of her staying at home, taking care of the house and kids or maybe some dogs. But he wasn’t done with his mechanic apprenticeship. It would be a minute before he was making good enough money for that. The thought of her taking on more hours stressed him out. He leaned forward, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and his lighter from the table. He lit the stick and took a puff blowing the smoke away from his girl.

“And we got bills to pay We got nothin' figured out”

Billy wrapped his free arm around her tighter, looking at her pretty face. She met his sleepy blue-eyed stare.

“I hate that shit,” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’d have dinner ready—”

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t like you working at all period,”

He flicked ash into the stolen hotel ash tray. Billy took a deep breath like she had shown him, he didn’t want to get pissed over something he couldn’t change immediately. They didn’t need to have a fight.

“Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter”

She leaned up and pressed a kiss into his soft lips, he kissed her back hand heavy on her spine pushing into the fiery kiss. His hands creeped up her belly in a comforting manner. He only pulled away for a breath of air, gently running his thumb on her shoulder.

“I still don’t get why you stay with me,” she said softly.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“And I remember that fight, two-thirty am 'Cause everything was slipping right out of our hands I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street Braced myself for the goodbye, 'Cause that's all I've ever known Then, you took me by surprise

“I’d never leave you alone,”

He pressed a kiss against her head.

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x plus size reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things reader insert #fluff without plot #fluff #mild angst

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akashigadabi · 1 year

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Lovebug

Prompt: Hug. Original list here.

Pairing: Yandere All For One x Consenting Reader

Summary: After a shit day, you just need All For One to hold you.

Word Count: 1137

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Everything Is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts

Rating: T

Warnings: Soft Vibes, Reader Being Soft, Soft All For One, Consensual Relationship, Established Relationship, Suggestive Language

Other: Reader has a quirk. Reader is written so reader is gender neutral as far as gender/gender identity and romantic or sexual orientation.

Ao3.

“I just need you to hold me right now.”

All For One closes his laptop without hesitation, every speck of his attention transferring onto you. It still seems remarkable even now to have him divert his focus at the drop of a dime because you asked for it, but you would never abuse this superpower. Right now you just need comfort after what you had to deal with today. Hell, after this entire week you have no greater desire than surrendering yourself into his care. What are husbands for if not comforting you every time the world tries crushing your spirit?

“Come here, then.”

He gestures for you to approach him, so you do. Once you’re close enough, he tugs you into his lap. His face burrows into the junction of your neck and shoulder to press a kiss to your exposed collarbone. Several moments then pass as he shifts you around to a comfortable position. Only after you settle does he comb his fingers through your hair. More kisses alight onto your face. Three land on your left cheek, one falls on your chin, another flutters over your right eye, and the last trails from your nose to your throat.

A sense of comfort seeps into you, some from the bond but the rest from within yourself in response to the shower of affection. As if you weigh nothing, All For One shifts you around again. This time you straddle his lap, legs dangling on either side of his hips. Your forehead rests against his collarbone. His large hands smooth along your spine as he nuzzles his cheek against the side of your head in a manner reminiscent of a feline. A litany of purrs follows, further lending to the impression. Swaddled by his embrace, you sense your distress start to dissolve. You close your eyes, content to sit there until one of you gets tired.

“Thank you,” you murmur with your lips hovering inches above soft white fabric. All For One gave you a light squeeze before dropping an additional kiss at your temple. Bliss saturates the very air, palpable even without the glowing presence of it permeating the bond like warm sunlight. Such pure, bright energy mellows out whatever gloom remains. Few people can cloak you with an aura so full of delight.

“As if you really had to ask. I enjoy few things more than holding you in my arms, little mate.”

His words ring true, mirrored in the euphoric cloud surrounding him. All For One revels in the trust you show him. It gladdens him to no end knowing you come to him for comfort like this, that you trust him with your weary heart. That he picks you up without fail every time you stumble or falter only fuels said trust. He despises anything that robs you of your own happiness, and makes it his mission to distract your mind when melancholy hits you. Your work as The Heretic isn’t always easy and often takes its toll.

“Tch. From what I’ve heard, I can guess some of those other things.”

Laughter bubbles out of his throat. It’s one of the most beautiful melodies you’ve ever heard. Not many other songs compare aside from his heartbeat or the rhythm of his breathing. Perhaps his actual singing voice, too, or those desperate little noises he makes sometimes when you’re making love.

“I’m sure you can, sweet one, yet I stand by those assertions.”

Peeking up at him from underneath your lashes, you offer him your own fond expression, so that your next words sound full of endearment rather than chastisement. They land softly against him, lacking any true judgment. You adore him as much as he adores you. Little could change that.

“Shameless man.”

A wicked smirk blooms across his otherwise angelic face, giving the impression of a fallen angel unabashed by his status. What a tantalizing juxtaposition. It’s fetching to an absurd level how he can appear so divine while harboring such a sinful nature under the surface. Almost like a trickster concealing their true nature.

“What about me ever suggested I feel shame?”

You reach up to cup his cheek in your hand, palm grazing his jawline. Smooth skin greets your delicate touch. Of course someone as sturdy as him does not require such ginger handling, but he appreciates it nonetheless. His eyelids slip halfway shut, hooding his pretty crimson eyes.

“Hmph, and I thought there was hope for you.”

All For One tips his head so he can plant a kiss on your wrist. Elongated canines nip at the sensitive area, though not hard enough to draw blood. Still, it draws a shudder out of you. From the glint in his eye, you gather All For One desired that very result.

“Would you have me any other way?”

The answer floats easily from the depths of your heart, showing in your eyes as your other hand sinks into his soft white hair. You wish it was longer, if only so you could truly tangle your fingers amongst the strands. It would certainly make pulling on it easier. All For One might even be persuaded to consider growing it out if he knew. No doubt he too would enjoy added length for similar reasons.

“…No, I can’t say I would.”

All For One grins, incorrigible as ever. Your heart flutters in your chest at the sight. Love for him pours from the depths of your heart, dousing the bond in a second layer of an intoxicating cocktail. Affection, devotion, adoration, admiration, commitment, compassion, and more all swirl through your connection. Something about All For One visibly softens another degree.

“Nor would I ever desire for your nature to change, sweet little mate mine.”

The two of you stretch to meet in the middle. Your foreheads touch, as do your noses. You stay there basking for several long moments. Despite your shitty day couched within a shitty week, you feel at peace. All For One tilts his head so that your mouths slot together in a sweet kiss. Somehow being enfolded within his loving grasp just erases every hidden worry.

“I love you, Haji-chan. Never change.”

“Never fear, my sweetling. I will never stop loving you.”

Unconditional love shimmers down the bond from both directions. When both sides converge, sweeping through each other, dizzying waves of euphoria slam back toward each of you. It leaves you both feeling lightheaded. If not for the steadying presence of All For One’s desk or the fact that you two had already been seated, it would have literally swept you off your feet by bringing you both to your knees, or more likely, bowling you over like ninepins. Right now though, a tangle of limbs sprawled across the study floor doesn’t sound like such an awful idea.

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yxami · 11 months

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currently on my period & I'm feeling bloated and crampy

What would Kauno do if his darling was on their period? :(

Spoil you with sweets, snacks, chocolate. Anything that would please you? He would run himself to get and retrieve just so you’re satisfied.

He would probably cuddle you all day acting like your personal heat pouch wrapped around you while the two of you watched movies and shows. He would cook and never let you out of his sight!

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baldursgrave69 · 3 months

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You're No Fun

Summary: Agnes (the Dark Urge) never gives herself a break, Enver Gortash tries to convince her to take a rest.

Pairing: Gortash x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 716

Tags: fluff, fluff without plot

While writing this I was listening to: Gooey by Glass Animals

Agnes had her head lying on the desk in Enver Gortash’s room, her hair had fallen in a curtain around her face. Her hand was wrapped around a mug of ice cold coffee as she waned between asleep and awake, her eyes fluttering open every few minutes.

“Agnes, have you seen my-” Enver entered the room, his eyes trailing over to Agnes slumped over on the desk. He smiled to himself as he made his way over to her, walking to the front of the desk. He held the back of his hand up to the coffee mug, trying to determine how long it had been sitting there. Enver knelt down in front of Agnes, gently pushing the hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open, a smile crossing her face as she looked at him.

“Mm, hi,” she mumbled, picking her head up sleepily.

“Hi. What are you doing?” he asked, resting a hand on her cheek.

“I was, uh,” she started, her eyes drooping again. Enver looked at her with a concerned expression as she tried staying coherent.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked, standing.

“Well I was sleeping until you woke me up,” she sighed, leaning back in the chair and crossing her arms.

“I mean properly slept. In a bed,” he said, his tone pointed.

“I slept for a few hours yesterday. Or was it the day before?” Agnes couldn’t remember the last time she took a break to sleep. Or eat. She sighed, rubbing her temples. Her head ached. Her whole body ached.

“Agnes, you can’t keep doing this. You’re going to kill yourself!” Enver scolded, picking up an ashtray that sat on the desk. “And this? You can’t live on tobacco and coffee,” he said with a huff, slamming the ashtray down.

“Fuck off, Enver,” Agnes growled, standing up from the desk. She stood entirely too quickly, her head spinning causing her to stumble forward. Enver caught her, helping her steady herself. “Ugh, I hate you,” she groaned, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. Enver wrapped his arms around Agnes, leaning his chin on the top of her head.

“Oh hush. Let’s get you to bed,” he said, pulling back from her and scooping her up in his arms. Agnes wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head on his shoulder as he carried her over to his bed.

Enver set her down, kissing her forehead. He tried pulling away from her, but with a swift yank she pulled him on top of her.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. Enver chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows and hovering his face over hers.

“You need to sleep, pet,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“I’m not tired,” Agnes pouted, wrapping her legs around the tyrant's waist and pulling him closer to her.

“Agnes, I found you asleep on the desk. You really should-,”. Enver felt her lick a stripe up his neck, her lips trailing up to his ear. “You’re such a brat,” he said, pressing his lips to hers. Enver pushed his tongue past her lips, devouring her. Agnes smiled against his lips, clawing at his shirt, trying to pull it up. He pulled away, narrowing his gaze at her.

“You need to sleep,” he repeated, pulling away from her.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, laying her head back on the pillow.

“Is that so?” He said with a smirk, bringing her arms up over her head and holding her wrists in his hand. Agnes bit her lip, smirking up at Enver. He rolled his eyes, dipping his head down to her neck and lavishing her neck with kisses. Agnes hummed, closing her eyes as he laid kisses to her neck and jaw. Enver could feel her relax beneath him, a sigh escaping her nose. Enver pulled back to look at her, noticing that she had fallen asleep under him. He chuckled to himself, releasing her wrists and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Sleep well, pet,” he whispered, trying to gently get himself off of the bed. Agnes mumbled something, turning away from him and curling up on her side. Enver pulled the covers up over her, leaving her to get some much needed rest

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warcats-cat · 1 year

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Pumpkin Seeds and Cherry Syrup

A/N: If people can have Christmas in July, then I can have Halloween in March! I had wanted to post this for Halloween but the time got away from me, and then it just felt too short. But I fleshed the idea out a little so, please enjoy some spoopy family fluff featuring a Human, a Gargoyle, and four puffballs of unknown species.

Once again a gift for my beloved @muppenthings, who's adorable AU's and OC's inspire me and comfort me more than words can say. I love these little nuggets so much <3

Also, as always, please let me know if I need to add any tags! Enjoy!!

Read on Ao3.

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"Virgil…" Roman's voice was hesitant, nervous, "What is this?"

The gargoyle in question had the grace to at least look a little sheepish, as he tried unsuccessfully to hide the large knife he was holding behind his back. Instead of answering, the gargoyle's smile grew more nervous as he said, "You're home early."

Roman continued on to look around in stunned confusion, taking in the house around him. There were spider webs in every possible corner and crevice; plastic bats, both cartoon and realistic, hung haphazardly from the ceiling. The kitchen table was (thankfully) covered in plastic tarp, and on the counter was a line of incredibly detailed jack-o'-lanterns, each dedicated to a different classic horror film. The gargoyle's fangs dripped with cherry syrup blood.

"My brother brought some weed to the party and was trying to start something I didn't want to be around for…" Roman replied, looking around the suddenly spookified house. He dropped the backpack he'd been holding with a soft thud.

Chirping sounded from the kitchen table, and Roman moved a bit to see, sure enough, all four of the little muppets on the table. Seemingly painstakingly separating pumpkin seeds from pumpkin pulp.

All of them in little costumes.

Roman felt a little smile breaking out across his face. "You know, if you wanted to decorate, you could have just asked." Removing his shoes, he finally moved away from the front door to inspect the decorations. There were cartoonish pictures that changed depending on the angle you looked at. The windows were splattered with more cherry syrup. The living room looked like the Pumpkin King himself had thrown up on it.

The Muppets cheerfully greeted the artist, Heart sitting back in his hind legs and wheeking until Roman gave him a little scratch under his chin. The little blue puffball was dressed like a tiny pumpkin himself, right down to a little hat with the pumpkin stem.

Stormy was also fittingly dressed, with miniscule horns and devil wings. He squeaked at Roman with a surprising smile on his face, and then from behind one of the pumpkins pulled a piece of candy corn, cut in half. Roman really hoped Virgil hadn't given the muppet a lot of those…

Sherlock's costume was probably the most fitting: teeny goggles and a white lab coat. He seemed to be leading the group effort of cleaning the pumpkin seeds, but paused obligingly for an ear scratch with a low whistle.

Goldie's costume was by far the most confusing; they also had a little lab coat, but it had been cut down the middle, with a black suit/cape thing sewn to be the other half. They also had a little bowler hat balanced between their feathery antennae, and they peeped with their typical regal air in lieu of letting Roman pet them.

Roman gestured vaguely to the table, looking once more to his gargoyle roommate for help.

Virgil lit up a little more as he pointed to each Muppet in turn, "Obviously, our little phone thief had to be a mad scientist. And happy little buddy was kinda too cute to not dress him up like a pumpkin." He paused, reaching for Stormy, who hissed and snapped a few times before grumpily allowing Virgil to lift him. Virgil looked far too pleased with himself as he said, "devil baby."

Stormy squawked and began to wiggle once more until Virgil released him. With a final attempt at a menacing hiss (which sounded surprisingly similar to an upset kitten), Stormy waddled back to his pumpkin seed cleaning.

"Okay…" Roman watched the angry Muppet chitter to his friends, before a smile broke out on the artist's face. "You know, one of these days Stormy's going to leave something nasty on your head for when you wake up, and you're totally going to deserve it."

Virgil shrugged, still smiling himself. "Eh. He deserves it too." He shrugged, and finally gave Goldie, who had been waiting for their red carpet announcement with surprising patience, a little pat.

"Ok, but explain them to me." Roman asked, looking over the long-furred floof. They were purring under the attention, posing like a glamorous little fashionista in the gargoyle's hands.

"Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde." Virgil replied, looking sheepish. "I was having trouble with a good character for them, but they liked the cape and the little hat." He released Goldie back to the table with the others, who had apparently decided on a break and begun munching on some of the seeds.

"Speaking of," Roman started, taking another look at the extravagant decorations. "Where did you get all of this?"

"That craft store down the street." The gargoyle said simply. Roman let the silence hang for a moment, before prompting again.

"And where did you get the money for all of this?" He eyed Virgil playfully, but also a bit nervous. His budget was tight enough as it is. But Virgil simply shrugged again.

"Well, the store was open but nobody was there! I only grabbed a few things. Nobody followed me or anything." He looked almost proud of himself; almost smug. He knew fully well what he had been doing.

The stone trickster probably waved at the anti theft cameras on the way out, too.

Roman sighed, shaking his head, but he couldn't help the wide grin on his face. "I cannot believe you, but also, I'm not even a little bit surprised," he said. He finished putting his things away while the gargoyle carefully finished cleaning out another pumpkin, dumping the mess into (Roman assumed) the designated area for fresh pumpkin seeds.

Roman took his time walking through the kitchen, inspecting the different jack-o'-lanterns lined up there. It, The Thing, The Shining, The Exorcist, and Saw so far. There was a little bowl of water with various wood carving utensils soaking off vegetable matter in the corner.

"Where did you learn this? These are so cool…" Roman said softly as he took in the fine details.

"Black magic," the gargoyle responded simply with a mischievous smirk; Roman rolled his eyes, but said nothing more as Virgil grabbed a few tools from the bowl and lined up the freshly hollowed pumpkin.

The artist watched in rapt attention as the logo from the original Halloween movie began to take shape, wondering if this was what the gargoyle (or perhaps the muppets) felt when they watched him paint.

After a while, he spoke up again, "So… they know they can't keep all those seeds, right? They'll never finish them all before the seeds go bad…" Virgil only shrugged, taking a long time to carefully carve thin slivers for the light to shine through, as if he was creating shading on a pumpkin.

"You and me are gonna eat some of them too." The gargoyle finally replied.

At that, Roman moved into Virgil's view, raising an eyebrow in lieu of asking out loud. The gargoyle shrugged again.

"I heard you and Re talking about Halloween a week ago, okay? You sounded like you missed being a kid a little bit. So I've got the Bugs cleaning the seeds off, and we'll bake most of 'em for them, but you're gonna show me how to roast a couple cupfulls like you said your mom used to, and we're gonna watch scary movies."

Roman felt his face warm up a little, and he looked away for a moment.

"That's, uh, really nice of you, Virge." He said softly.

The gargoyle grinned again, all sharp teeth and excited eyes. "Don't know what you're talking about; this is an entirely selfish endeavor." Virgil said, but Roman only shook his head. His trickster roommate had really gone all out for this after all.

Roman left the gargoyle to his work, wanting to watch the muppets a while. It looked like Sherlock was leading the efforts, but all four of them were working equally. Sherlock and Goldie were passing the seeds along, inspecting each one as they went. Every once in a while, one would make a high whistle, pull the seed from the pile, and nimbly toss the wet mush over the side of the table, into a bucket that had been placed on the floor.

After the seeds passed inspection, Heart and Stormy would pull them along and carefully clear the gooey pulp away with their tiny paws, scooting the brightly colored mush along a little trail which also went over the edge of the table and into the bucket. It was impressively efficient, and the way the four worked so harmoniously only more strongly reminded Roman of a little family. They chirped and whistled at each other, probably talking as they worked.

"You guys are so talented," Roman said, without thinking. All four stopped for a moment and looked up at him at the interruption, but they didn't look upset. Smiling, and blushing a little, Roman continued in earnest, "Really, it's super cool to watch you work together like this."

Heart lit up immediately, tapping his tiny front feet on the plaster tarp and wheeking again, as if he was a puppy who had done a particularly good job at something. Stormy hid his face under one paw and his little cape, but whistled a few notes as well. Goldie, regal as ever, simply posed and peeped at him with their little nose in the air like a debutante.

Sherlock's was the most adorable reaction, the little blue ball of fluff preened at his words, and Roman could see his feet tapping excitedly as he went back to work; not as big and vibrant as Heart, but clearly glowing with the praise.

Roman made a mental note to tell him he was a good boy more often, because despite being a little thief, Sherlock was very intelligent, and it was obvious the praise was a welcome surprise.

Roman felt a tap on his left shoulder, and immediately fell for the gag, looking left and seeing nothing before finding the gargoyle on his right, grinning like a spoiled cat.

"I took the pumpkins outside. Ready for some movies?" He asked, faux innocent.

"Yeah, whatever," Roman said, lightly punching the Gargoyle's arm and laughing.

The muppets finished cleaning the seeds with surprising speed, and the human and gargoyle spread most of them out on a baking pan to be dried, while about ⅕ of them were tossed into a pan to be roasted with butter and a little salt, and perhaps a few spices that Roman added last minute, to pay homage to his mother's not-so-secret recipes.

They ended up watching more kids-oriented Halloween movies, mostly for the Muppets' benefits, but it was still fun. A long night of Hocus Pocus and Scooby Doo and The Nightmare Before Christmas, among others, which left all four fuzzballs enraptured. Virgil had clearly found a spooky little kindred spirit in Stormy, and the two tricksters (Roman likes to call them Mortal Frenemies) only threw seeds at each other for about thirty minutes. (The muppets, of course, were eating seeds without butter, although Stormy and Sherlock teamed up in the middle of Coco, trying to steal the more savory treat.)

In Roman's mind, it was way better than a party. It was Halloween with his family again; memories of being ten, and falling asleep on the couch with the muppets nestled close together in a warm, purring pile on his stomach.

#warcats writes #muppen floof au #the floofs #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides #sanders sides au #familial DLAMP #nonbinary Janus Sanders #Patton sanders #Logan sanders #Roman sanders #Virgil sanders #there are two virgils #Halloween Fluff #fluff without plot

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accio-sriracha · 5 months

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Peter Pettigrew and The Marauders

By: Accio_Sriracha

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: (minor) Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, (minor) James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter

Characters: Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom

Word Count: 5k :)

Additional Tags: Peter Pettigrew is a Marauder, Peter Pettigrew Needs a Hug, Good Peter Pettigrew, Young Peter Pettigrew, Peter Pettigrew-centric, POV Peter Pettigrew, Nice Peter Pettigrew, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Please Don't Hate Me, Fluff, Fluff without Plot

Summary:

An ode to the young Peter Pettigrew.

To brotherhood, to love and carefree laughter, to the man who brings the snacks on roadtrips and to study groups; though he may not be the glue, he will always be the warmth of these four childhood best friends.

#marauders #harry potter #marauders era #peter pettigrew #good peter pettigrew #young peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew-crentric #POV: peter pettigrew #nice peter pettigrew #marauders fanfiction #please dont hate me #fluff #so much fluff #fluff without plot #peter pettigrew needs a hug #hes such a soft boi #i love him so much #please let them be happy

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kisses-for-kai · 1 year

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💖 Valentine’s With Kai Chisaki 💖

(Aka Red Day in Japan)

With the new episodes coming out this week, the demand for angst makes sense BUT I want fluff and I’m writing this for my own enjoyment SO for those that enjoy fluff this is a present for you!!! Context: Fluff with no plot; International couple; Reader isn’t from Japan. Reader is female just for the context of Red day but other than that this fic works as gender-neutral y/n!! Obviously written with AU Kai’s personality in mind; as well as a demi/grey ace projection for him. Content is SFW but romantic. Please enjoy my belated Valentine's prompt!

You’re used to the big romantic displays of affection and how people celebrate Valentine's back home. A lot of couples wait to propose on this special day, some others shamelessly carry giant teddy bears all the way to their partner's doorstep just to impress them. Dozens of roses, fancy restaurants, you name it. But since you moved to Japan, you noticed there’s a bit of a difference. Christmas was considered the most romantic day of the year here, and Valentine's- or Red Day was focused more on chocolate as simple gift-giving. Back home it was kind of expected for guys to do the gift-giving and romantic stunts on Valentine's but in Japan, it’s the other way around. So it was up to you to take the lead on how you wanted to spend this special day with Kai. You spend the night over on the thirteenth so that you could optimize your time spent with Kai the moment you wake up. In contrast to your deliberate planning, it completely went over Kai’s head on what day today was. He woke up as normal, from having maybe four hours of sleep tops as he started mentally equipping what workload he needed to cover today. To Kai, it was just another Tuesday. You could imagine his confusion when you asked him to take the day off. Your boyfriend insisted if there was really something you wanted to go to, he’d take you on the weekend. You pouted and told him “It has to be today!” It clicked in his mind that today was Red Day, but it didn’t clear up his confusion about why that was important enough for him to ditch time that could be worth a full day of research. The most he was expecting from you was maybe a box of mint chocolates when he returned back from working late. You kissed his forehead and told him he deserved a day off, and that Valentine's should be a special day spent together.

He once again insisted that he couldn’t afford to take a day off, and attempted to stand up from the bed that you shared. You hooked your arms around his shoulders and anchored him to sit back down. You smooched him quickly multiple times, from his now feverish cheek, to his soft jawline, and again on his forehead where he liked being kissed the most. He huffed “Angel- please-” convincing himself that he wouldn’t melt from your touch. Being with you continued to confuse him, you were a walking dichotomy. Normally, he hated touch, but you were the exception. With his rose-tinted glasses, he saw you as completely pure. While the feeling of kisses and hugs were still new to him, he couldn’t admit that it was possible for him to feel touch-starved. The combination of your kissing bombardment and sweet talking convinced Kai to ditch work. He’s undeniably stubborn in every other way, but your presence creates this unique effect on him. This was one of the rare opportunities where he caved into your wishes before his own.

You smiled and told him that was a smart choice and you reassured Kai that he deserved a day off. After all, he’s a workaholic. You cupped his face in your hands lovingly and told him you wanted to pamper him all day.

He clicked his tongue and furrowed his eyebrows, shutting down that idea immediately. He’s not going to let you baby him all day and then insists if there was anything else you had in mind.

You hum and tell him you weren’t set on anything else but to take care of him.

You knew he was up all night, so the first thing you wanted was for him to doze off back in bed while you got up to prepare him a decorative breakfast. He took that as a fifteen-minute power nap before joining you in the kitchen, to your surprise.

He asked you what you were making for breakfast and you told him you were going to make little heart-shaped pancakes. You were adorable to him, but he still had the audacity to tell you pancakes in the morning were way too sweet for him. You retorted saying that he only ever makes a cup of coffee for himself in the morning and that this alleged “dessert” for breakfast was still healthier than his go-to. He couldn’t argue with that, and he let you cook.

_______ Taking the day off felt absolutely alien to Kai, but he was happy to have your company. You would typically go out for dates at night, so seeing the sun hit your beautiful face was a privilege. He wasn’t exactly one for mushy words, but you could feel his golden-eyed gaze on you in admiration.

Time felt slower, and that was a good thing. You were the only person that Kai wanted to talk to for hours. You listened to him and his complex thoughts, and his spiels never felt like a tangent when he conversed with you. You understood him, and at times when you didn’t, you put in the effort to stay on the same page. Hearing your own thoughts, and how they contributed or challenged his own opinion, felt emotionally intimate.

To Kai, this was his equivalent of cuddling; casual but close, as any couple would be. It made him feel vulnerable, and a part of him hated it. But your presence, your intelligence, your complexity; reminded him of how he fell in love with you. And having this time now to talk to you in-depth for hours made him feel like he was falling in love all over again.

You recalled how different Kai acted when you first met him months ago. And you remembered the threshold you had to pass before Kai felt comfortable with physical contact at all. Let alone any display of physical affection. Only after that feeling of emotional intimacy, did Kai allow you to touch him. It was something you had to ease him into, from hand-holding and soft hugs to start.

Nowadays he let you hug him tight, and kiss him anywhere on his face, to his neck and shoulders. He’d never admit it, but your kisses felt addicting to him. He didn’t know it was possible for him to feel touch-starved until you entered his life.

You left him in a pool of serotonin as you drowned him in smooches on his cotton bed. Once you gave yourself a second to breathe, it also gave Kai a moment to recall where he was. One second the two of you were eating breakfast and chatting, and suddenly you two were back to his blankets. He could feel his face burn bright red, from your passionate pecks, and he knew you enjoyed seeing him so flush. Kai asked you if this is all you meant by indulging him on Valentine's, and he warned you that his own stamina could only last for so long. You giggled and told him you needed to get it out of your system.

You stopped bombarding him with kisses and laid on his chest for a bit. The two of you bantered back and forth as you normally would before Kai decided to sit up. While he was happy to spend time with you, he wouldn’t let himself spend an entire day lazily in bed.

You clasped your hands together, satisfied as you were sure you had your boyfriend for the whole day now. You asked him what he’d like to do together and he replied anything that was relatively private. Pressing your luck, you tried to sweet talk him into bringing you to that modern art museum you were dying to visit in Chiyoda. Kai groaned and told you that was too far for a last-minute trip. You begged him to go with you, and he continued to decline. Saying how art wasn’t his thing and he couldn’t understand the charm in it. On top of that, he told you he wasn’t in the mood to take the train just to get there, knowing how stuffy public transport can be with people.

You sighed and scrapped the museum date for now. You knew you could bring it up to him again if you’d planned it ahead of time. You decided to go through a list of date ideas and you told Kai had to agree on one thing. Eventually, the two of you compromised with visiting a botanical greenhouse. It was simple, calm, and most important to your boyfriend- it was private. Plus it was a nice way for the both of you to enjoy some greenery in the cold month of February.

The two of you got dressed, ready to go out for the day. Kai pulled out the same black and grey business attire he’d wear any day of the week and that (slightly atrocious) iconic green jacket of his from his closet. You packed extra clothes ahead of time, knowing you wake up at his place. You were ready to change and your boyfriend panicked, shielding his eyes with his hand while quickly exiting his bedroom to avoid your indecency. You’ve been together for months now, but Kai was shy to physical stuff like that. You didn’t mind it all, in fact, you found it sweet how clear it was that he felt attracted to your personality first far before your looks.

_______

You were strolling through the greenhouse garden. It was more humid than what you were used to, but the garden was lush and tranquil. Kai was hesitant to show PDA when you guys went out, but he was more flexible with it today because of how little traffic the greenhouse path had on a weekday morning. He let you hold his gloved hand the entire time, and you’d occasionally swing it back and forth playfully. Throughout the slow winding path, you’d point out the flowers you liked the most. You were amazed to find how much variety the greenhouse actually held, let alone the size of the place, and how high the glass panels were built. You pointed out other flora that reminded you of home, and you took pictures of them excitedly. Kai thought it was cute how easy it was for you to enjoy something so trivial, and he liked seeing you smile.

You passed by a patch of hydrangeas and pointed out how they were the same type of flowers that grew at his father's place. You noted that his dad liked to garden when he had the time, and Kai nodded, appreciating you remembered that small fact about Pops. You mentioned how hydrangeas were one of your favourite flowers, especially the pink ones. Kai challenged that and said you told him pink roses were your favourite just a couple of weeks ago. You told him you have multiple favourite flowers so long as they were your favourite colour. Your partner responded saying that’ll make it easier to remember the next time he buys you a bouquet.

After you took your sweet time browsing through the indoor garden, Kai let you guide the way home, predicting that you’d want to take a detour across the city before settling back at his apartment. Not a moment later, he was proven right when you asked to check out a cute cafe you haven’t gone to before.

You were already out, so it made sense to check out a couple of things while the day was still young. Kai complied, and you squeed, pulling his arm as you eagerly entered that adorable cafe. As you looked through the menu together he squinted to make sure he saw the prices correctly. A tiny piece of cake here costs 1500 yen??? You told your boyfriend that you’d cover the cost and you easily had the disposable income to cover it. He denied your offer and said he wouldn’t want to come off as a cheapskate letting you pay for everything. You asked him if he was sure that was okay, knowing he needed to be tight with money and he reassured you. He mentioned that the pancakes you made earlier were sweet enough for the day and that he’d just get himself a black coffee. It was still overpriced all things considered, but it’s not like he couldn’t afford it.

Once your tiny tray of desserts and drinks was served you eagerly pulled out your phone again to take pictures of everything. Especially with how delicate your mini cakes were decorated adorably in season for Valentine's day. The moment you started taking photos, Kai reminded you to keep him out of the shot, knowing that you’d post them on your Instagram. You knew he needed to keep a low profile, and you reassured him that you wouldn’t forget that so easily. You showed him the series of pictures you did take, and how you could only register maybe an unfocused glimpse of his gloved hand and torso at best. Asking him if any of those were fine to post, he gave you his approval and you happily uploaded them. _______ You spent the whole day doing domestic, lowkey things within the city, nothing too extravagant but certainly enjoyable. Your original plan was to spoil Kai all day, but you should’ve known that he’d try to do the same for you- so it turned into a little cheque dance every time it came to paying for something.

You were happy with how your day turned out, and it felt a little more synonymous with what you remembered Valentines being like back home. While Kai didn’t participate in the whole Western ordeal of buying you a box of chocolates and red roses, you were happy he caved in and took the day off just to spend time with you. Having his company was the best gift- but you had to admit the small perks of having him treat you to a cute cafe and a little bit of shopping was pretty nice too.

You understood Kai wasn’t much of the mushy type and he wasn’t super transparent with his words, but you knew he was glad he took the day off as well. Stress got to him easily both inside of work matters and in his personal life, and you felt like skipping work was something he certainly needed, even if it wasn’t something he’d admit out loud.

Aside from the art museum, there was only one other thing you really wanted to do today- which was pampering your boyfriend. Once you two arrived back at his apartment, took off your shoes and set down your shopping bags, you brought it up again. Kai clicked his tongue again and furrowed his eyebrows like he did the first time you asked him. He told you he wouldn’t let you baby him, and you told Kai that wasn’t it, all you wanted was to take care of him. You told Kai that he deserved a nice massage to unwind and that you wanted to play with a skincare routine on his face.

He paused, thinking about it and you waited patiently for his answer. You prefaced to him that you didn’t have to if that’s something he wasn’t comfortable with. He let you know his personal space bubble was completely different from you than other people. Normally he hated anyone being closer than a meter in his vicinity, let alone touch but that didn’t apply to you. He trusted you, and he saw you differently than everyone else. You were pure in his eyes, you were his angel. He told you that touch wouldn’t be an issue, but that he was simply puzzled by how adamant you wanted to take care of him.

Sure, you were together romantically for months now. And he started to get a better feel for your personality, how you acted, what you liked about him, and how you two were happy together. But he couldn’t wrap his head around this yearning you had to take care of him. It was foreign to him. He knew he loved you, and that he wanted to protect you and keep you safe, he knew he dedicated himself to you. And he knew you loved him but… he couldn’t process that fully. He couldn’t understand the fundamental reason why you would. You frowned hearing his tangent. You wish you could figure out how to articulate to Kai that he is human and that he is completely worth being loved, and that he deserved to be. You wished you could admit to Kai that he had an issue with depersonalizing himself, but it was a nuanced, tangled issue that you couldn’t easily drop in a sentence or two. And you worried if you brought it up with poor execution, he’d think you’d only love him out of pity. You wanted to let him know these small things you picked up since you two started dating, and you knew you’d address it in the long run, but in the meanwhile, you were determined to let Kai relax. To let him feel okay in the moment, even if it was temporary. You responded to him, saying how he was overthinking, and that he needed to accept and trust you loved him even if there wasn’t some logical root or “ethos” to your love for him. You gently pushed down on his shoulders, indicating for you two to sit on the couch. You shuffled over and kissed him on his forehead, and then you kissed his lips. You told him in a soft, low voice “let me take care of you.”

He gave a small nod and mumbled “...alright.” You started to massage his shoulders and made your way to the crook of his neck. Most of his tension was here, and you could imagine how a stiff neck would contribute to his own stress. You told Kai you knew there was a lot on his mind, even if today was a nice breather for him, and you asked him if he wanted to tell you about it. He told you he didn’t know where to start, but you let him know you were here to listen whenever. You loved him, and you made him feel safe. And so he spoke.

#kai chisaki #mha overhaul #overhaul #fluff #oc x canon #reader x character #oc x overhaul #reader x overhaul #reader x kai chisaki #oc x kai chisaki #fluff without plot #fluff with no plot #valentines #lovecore #valentines fic #fanfic #mha kai chisaki #bnha overhaul #bnha kai Chisaki

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tiredfloridianbutverygay · 7 months

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Just a day in the life of the Rose-Branwen family. After a long mission, Summer's looked forwards to reuniting with her girls.

#rosebirdweek #rosebird #fluff without plot #domestic fluff #summer rose #raven branwen #they are married!#married life #Day 2 Small Comforts

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sparrowsworkshop · 1 year

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“The Song of Stormlight” by OneWingedSparrow

Inspired by this wonderful art by @louwhose!

Fic Summary: Left outside in the rain during a Weeping, bridgeman Link introduces his fellow slave Sheik to a secret about spheres.

P.S. You don’t really need to know anything about The Stormlight Archive to enjoy this fic, but I highly recommend reading the books because they are very good ;) Main Tags: Ocarina of Time AU, Stormlight Archive Setting, Zelink, Sheik / Link, Fluff without Plot, Bridgeman!Link, Darkeyes!Link, Darkeyes!Sheik, Music, Song of Storms

Read on AO3 Written for the @zelinkcommunity Opposites Attract event! Week 4: Hidden / Revealed. Reblogs are appreciated!

~ “The spheres are singing,” Link said softly. Leaning against the bars of the cage, Sheik tilted her head. “What do you mean?” Link’s ears twitched slightly, one at a time, gradually angling in different directions like a chull’s antennae. “Can’t you hear them?” Sheik closed her eyes too and focused, but the rushing wind drowned out everything else. “It’s too loud.” “May I?” Sheik opened her eyes to find Link staring questioningly at her. She raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he requested, but somehow trusting him regardless. “I suppose?” Slowly, Link scooted closer, his hands reaching out for either side of her head. Sheik couldn’t help but tense a little as his face neared hers. Storms. His dark brown eyes were rich and warm in shade, but somehow sharp and fierce too; both welcoming and dangerous, alluring and terrible all at once. Like a barbed spear with an elaborately gilded shaft, or a beautiful Shardblade with a bloodthirsty, serrated edge. Why...why was it that darker eyes were considered inferior, again?

His hands found her ears, and gently, hesitantly, pulled the mask away from them. Not enough to unveil her face—which was fortuitous, because Sheik could feel an embarrassingly strong blush raging on her cheeks.

Thankfully, he let go quickly, and backed away into his corner of the cage. “That oughta help,” Link said, absentmindedly looking out through the bars. “You can...you can try again now, if you want.” Sheik nodded, even though he wasn’t looking her way.

The slave driver’s bag of spheres sat on the ground a few yards away, faintly aglow from within. The splintered floor of the cage scratched against her ragged clothing as she moved closer to press her nose against the cold metal bars. Torrential rain wept down her face, but drenched as she already was, Sheik ignored it. Breathing carefully, Sheik tried once again to listen.

Splashing. Pattering. Puddles bouncing. Ripping, roaring, rushing. Her nose began to run, not unlike the steady stream thundering off the roof. A standard symphony for a Weeping. She still couldn’t hear anything new.

Until Link started singing.

Back and forth, up and down, never ending turnaround.

Bid me once to stay, else I fall away….

Colors flashed before Sheik’s eyes.

Blue. White. Purple. Green. Each glowing boldly. No distinct form, no identifiable shape. The colors took a rhythm of their own, and danced around Sheik’s vision, like some sort of musical spren. She knew not where they came from. They were gone in an instant.

But the spheres on the ground...they followed that rhythm, and pulsed to the same beat. And as Sheik stared, wide eyed and awestruck, a faint voice seemed to emerge from within them, drawn out by Link’s calling.

Seek the shore!

Dare not drown!

New beginnings can be found….

“Rid of all farewells and pain,” Sheik murmured along with their voices.

Her heart jolted. Where had the words come from? How did she know? She frantically glanced over at Link for an explanation, but instead of a sagely expression, Link possessed the biggest, brightest grin she’d ever seen on a living bridgeman.

“I thought you could hear them,” Link said with satisfaction. “What with you being musical and all that.”

Fingers shaking, Sheik pulled the mask back over her ears.

How much...did he know about her, anyway?

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thefuzzzz · 2 months

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Klance WIP bingo #5!!

Summary:

Word Count: 464

Chapters: 1/1

Description:

That night was different than most. Usually, Keith curled up and fell asleep, contained to his side of the bed and only allowing Lance's arm to drape over him lazily once he was dead asleep.

However, tonight, Keith moved just a bit closer and laid his head on Lance's shoulder. Lance thought he was having a heart attack.

—————————————

Keith is more affectionate than usual, fluff ensues

My Card:

#KLIHWIPBingo #KLIHServerEvent #KLValentinesWipBingo24 #fanfiction #oneshot #klance #playing with hair #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #fluff without plot #no plot just fluff #cuddling #keith x lance #lance x keith #🪻fanfics

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akashigadabi · 11 months

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Sunshine

Brought to you by the Junicorn 2023 prompt list. The unicorn is perhaps not as literal as intended.

Pairing: Yandere All For One x Consenting Reader

Summary: You enjoy the sunshine as you sit in your garden amongst your loved ones, including your brother in law, Yoichi, and your children.

Word Count: 485

Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Slice of Life, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Crimes & Criminals, Organized Crime, Villain Couple, Villain Family, Villains

Rating: T

Warnings: None 🥺

Other: Reader has a quirk. Reader is written so they’re gender neutral as far as gender/gender identity and romantic or sexual orientation.

Ao3.

You lean on your hands, pressing them into the blanket underneath you. Your legs stretch out before you and your head tilts back to enjoy the soft morning sunshine. Your youngest son Akihiko slumbers peacefully in your lap, his little violet eyes closed against the light. He fully favors you the way Kimiyo favors All For One, and Mikage looks a little like both of you with his white hair, violet eyes, and mixed facial features. Chiharu has shifted so that their fringe shows white, while the top half of their hair remains their natural color until it fades into pink at the bottom. One of their eyes is violet, and one is red. You wonder briefly what the next little one will look like.*

A happy shriek has you open one eye to glance at the children. You follow Kimiyo and Mikage, ages six and five respectively, as the two white-haired siblings dart around the garden. They’re playing with Aina the Second and Giran’s son, Hanzou, while Chiharu sits on their own blowing bubbles with a large pink wand. Azuki lays on the grass nearby, head on her paws but ears pricked as she watches over you all. Sushi lounges against your thigh while basking in the sun, having rolled onto her back. Her front paws stick cutely into the air, and every so often she twitches from whatever dreams visit her mind. Mochi hasn’t moved from where she flopped onto her side next to Chiharu.

A butterfly flutters past your cheek, alighting onto a beautiful red flower All For One brought into the garden just for you. It’s a variety of Camellia japonica known as Middlemist’s Red. Before he paid discretely to have a cutting delivered to your gardens, it grew exclusively in two locations in the entire world. Now it grows in a third, all because he thought you might take pleasure from the sight of it. Well, and because he enjoys hoarding exquisite beauties and rare specimens due to his Quirk. All For One sought out a few additional Quirks to make the endangered flower proliferate, and now there are yards of it in full bloom surrounding you in all directions.

Behind you, the door opens to allow Yoichi into the garden. You know because you can hear his cane tapping on the dirt as he makes his way towards the bench near you. All For One will join you all in an hour. The day is too exquisite for him to spend it on the family business instead of the family. He’s bringing sweet wine and cakes from your favorite bakery.

You close your eye again as Yoichi finally reaches his bench. The sunshine kisses your skin, gentle and warm. The children fill the air with their joy when they rush past, all dimples and giggles. You can’t think of anything better than glorying in the midst of such perfection.

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