Hello? I- Yes I'd Like To Die Like This Please

no im not stalking this amazing beings page >:0 what an insult :( I'm worshipping it 🧎‍♀️🛐🛐🛐🧎‍♀️

i love the tymps couple so well 😭😭 Tsukki is so cute in it, i love the way you wrote him 🥰 I was wondering, if youre willing to write it, how would tymps tsukki and the reader be during an arguement? I can only imahine how petty tsukki would be 😂

I don’t usually take requests but I had the perfect idea for this n I can’t get my mind off it 😭😭 thank you for this anon… I’m obsessed with them! Really! Truly!!

link to the og “tymps” couple fic!

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

Tsukishima can’t say that he exactly remembers what this argument is about, all he knows is that you’re pissed, he’s pissed, and he just really wants to let this go. Let the disagreement roll over and just hug you, take you to bed and let you smother him with kisses like you do every night.

But he can’t back down, not when he’s so infuriated by your stubbornness that he can’t think straight. His hand in shaking from anger, and he can see tears tease your waterline. (Tears of anger, not sadness. Do not be mistaken, you like to remind him.)

“Don’t be stupid.”

You offered. You so politely offered to sleep on the couch and let your boyfriend wallow in his bitterness. You offered to leave him alone, and now he’s declining?

“I’ll do what I want. And right now, I want to sleep on the couch.”

You do not want to sleep on the couch. It’s as comfortable as a couch gets, scratches and dents to prove it’s years of usage. You love that leather couch, but it’s far too cold for you rest in.

“I don’t give a shit. I’ll die before ever let you sleep alone. You’re sleeping on the bed with me.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my dad, fuckface.”

He rolls his eyes. You just never listen. You’re far too stubborn for your own good.

“You’ll freeze your ass off on that couch. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He walks off to your shared bedroom, leaving you in the small living alone. You turn your head and find your little kitten on the couch, sleeping soundly despite the storm surrounding her.

You sigh. “I hate him.”

-

You’re out of the shower some twenty minutes later, climbing into your bed angrily. You know Tsukishima is awake—his breathing is a clear sign—but you chose to ignore him. You wrap yourself in the warm sheets, turning your back on your lover.

Two minutes pass. Three. Five.

“Where’s my goodnight kiss, dumbass?”

It sounds silly, coming from the man who just spent the past hour angry at you, but he couldn’t be any more sincere. For every night that you’ve been with him, he gets a goodnight kiss placed on his cheeks, his forehead, and lastly, on his lips. You’ve never failed to do so, and he will not let a petty argument stop this streak.

“You don’t get one, you piece of shit.”

He chooses silence. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move.

Thirty seconds pass. A minute.

The soft feeling of your lips is soon on his left cheek, then his right, the centre of his forehead, and finally, his lips.

“I hope the devil shows up in your dreams tonight.”

He laughs. A genuine laugh—he can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. Amidst all your anger, you still find a way to humour him.

He pulls you into him, and you don’t reject him. Your back to his chest, he places a sweet kiss at the top of your head.

“You too, Princess.”

-

He wakes up the next morning at 6:30 AM.

He finds you tangled in him: your legs on top of his, your arm somehow found its way into his hair, and there may be some drool on his chest (he doesn’t really care enough to confirm).

You look adorable.

But he is still annoyed.

So he swiftly jumps out of bed, careful not to wake you up, and heads to the kitchen. The coffee maker is turned on, just enough for two cups, and he gets breakfast ready.

He has to clock into work by 8:30 AM, giving him just enough time to prep breakfast and rush off for the day. He’s quick with his movements; your coffee is poured in a flask to ensure that it’s still hot by the time you wake up, your breakfast of pancakes is airy and light, and you have a bowl of fruits cut up and ready.

He leaves for work by 8, a sticky note taped to the flask.

It reads,

morning.

Do not skip breakfast. I’ll know. Eat everything I made. Lick the plate clean if you have to.

You’re a piece of shit, but have a good day. I’m still mad at you, but you drooled on my chest and you looked adorable doin it

i love ya (not rlly),

Tsukishima

⑅ ۫ . ෆ ˟ ໒꒱ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME?

al haitham x f!reader ౨ৎ . . . 17+ only ໒꒱ ⋆˚✩. fluff! fluffy fluffy mega fluff :3 / sensitive eared al haitham snifl ;;n;; he's so kwuit / maybe ooc al haitham? / suggestive undertones / al haitham calls reader a "minx" at one point ‹𝟹

al haitham doesn't have his earpiece on the first time you fall asleep on his shoulder. it's in the comfort of his own home, it's a good day and there's a good book in his lap and his good friend is sitting next to him— he has no reason to keep it on.

it doesn't catch him off guard when he feels the familiarity of your weight on his shoulder and the warmth of your body as it falls slack against his own, something he's felt countless times no thanks to your several clumsy trips and slips here and there. he looks down at you to find you asleep, and he's almost tempted to maneuver you into laying on the couch and throwing a blanket at your face to avoid all the whining you'll be doing about your neck aching after you wake up.

"tired, are we? it's only noon..."

but his gaze softens as he continues observing you— the sweet innocence gracing your face and the slight part of your lips as you begin to quietly snore— and he can't seem to find it in himself to remove you from him. and he sighs a defeated sigh, because al haitham is quick to come to the conclusion that he enjoys having you lay on him like this, that he likes how adorable you look when you aren't yapping your mouth at him. and he decides he can be selfish for now, damn the little neck ache you'll feel from straining it like this.

he lets you rest on his shoulder silently while he continues to read his book, but it's not long after when you begin to whimper incoherently in your sleep, brows furrowed and your arms wrapping around one of his own. he watches, patiently and curiously as you snuggle into his chest, nuzzling your face against his neck in search of more comfort.

"oh? this is new." he grins and muses to no one but himself, a brow cocked up as he continues to watch you with interest, trying to decipher whatever it is that you're mumbling.

and then he hears it— tiny, repeated whines of his name spilling from your lips without a filter— 'haitham... 'haitham, like you... like you s'much... you breathe blissfully against the shell of his ear and al haitham swears his heart skips a beat.

huh. it's never done that before.

and so he purses his lips, grinding his molars in an attempt to swallow the perturbed grunt that bubbles in his throat as your nose continues to graze along his ear, softly smoothing along the cartilage. the book lays long forgotten on his lap as his hands ball into white-knuckled fists, spine lit ablaze with tingles that rush through his nerves at every breath, whisper, touch you lay over his ear.

there's no denying his ears are incredibly sensitive to both sound and touch, the latter always causing him to react in more... salacious ways.

and even with all the self-discipline and resolve al haitham has built up over the years, he is still a human by nature, and he begins to find it immensely difficult to keep his blood from flowing south. his pants seem tighter all of a sudden and his crotch begins to ache and oh, the feel of your skin against his makes him feel like he's being scorched alive.

"you little minx." al haitham whispers cooly and matter-of-factly, the neutral expression on his face a stark contrast to the flames that grow blue in the pit of his heart.

but his choice of wording is absolutely incorrect, he knows this, because you, never the wiser, are about the furthest thing from a minx. there's nothing cunning or impudent about your current actions, but god— it feels like you're reaching straight into his chest, tugging at his heartstrings and carving your name into the organ, because all he can think, feel is you, you, you.

"if you're trying to get me wrapped around your finger..." he stops to sigh, shaking his head with a defeated smile. and the more he looks at you, the more he's tempted to flick your forehead, poke it with his finger until you wake up and discover your body curled up against his; just to see you embarrassed and quiet and avoidant of his gaze. but, no— instead, he leans into your forehead, lips barely grazing over the skin just as your lips did his ear, before pulling back, deciding that perhaps this, a teasing conversation and a forehead kiss would be best saved for when you're awake. "you're doing an excellent job of it."

from coco ๑‧₊˚ ෆ he is my littl honeyboy ! i kiskiskiskis so soft .... yeah . hav dis littl thing i thought up after his teaser video yesterday >0< hope ya like it , even if its only a bit ! comments + reblogs + feedback of any kind ! r supa ! dupa appreciated !! thankies a billi for reading ໒꒰ྀི∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩꒱ྀིა

THE TRANSITION AND CONTRAST OML DIDJDJSK 😩🙏🙏🛐🛐🛐

deliverance (ft. a little bird that didn’t make the cut)

this had so much word flavor oml 🫶🫶🫶

soulmate trope | todoroki s.

Todoroki’s route of soulmate trope.

Wow, you sure seem to be injuring yourself more than usual. That can’t be related to anything significant.

warnings: extremely mild self-harm. secondhand embarrassment.

~11k words

Keep reading

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Keep reading

a comic about meeting your younger self :)

Thank you for reading :)

rules of rationality.

summary: You’re one of the few people Alhaitham trusts to take care of him when he’s injured.

notes: 1.5k words, fic, mentions of injuries + blood, slight suggestive content

He always comes to you when he’s injured. 

Alhaitham never explains why, and you know better than to ask. He simply shows up at your door, methodically reciting his list of potential injuries, as you guide him to the couch and press gauze and disinfectant on his wounds. 

There could be any number of reasons that he’s been hurt, though you had joked that you didn’t think being the Akademiya’s Scribe was such a dangerous job when you first met him. Now, you think that it’s less of his job that’s the cause of all his little altercations, and more of a symptom of his personality. 

“You might need stitches,” you say. “I recommend going to a doctor.”

Keep reading

Gojo not taking care of brats more

KAEYAS PART HITS DIFFERENT WAIT THAT HURT LIKE A BITCH OML

𖤐 * ∿  SOMEONE TO HOLD

𖥻 SUMMARY

pt 2 of before you go

𖥻 CHARACTERS

diluc, kaeya, albedo & gn! reader

𖥻 GENRE & WARNINGS

hurt/comfort, alcohol

𖥻 LINKS

masterlist

𖥻 NOTES

please like and rb if you enjoyed ! 

𖥻 ALBEDO

it’s been six months since you left mondstadt, and albedo doesn’t let himself stop and think

he buries himself further in his work, ironically enough. because every time he pauses, every time he lets his mind drift to you, he feels something twist in his chest

and he thinks he’s doing fine. when he’s working, he’s okay

still, he sometimes finds himself looking over his shoulder to find you — expecting you to be sitting next in the stool that he had always reserved for you. only to remember that you’re no longer there

still, he keeps the stool there. a reminder, and a hope

he sometimes finds the small trinkets you’ve left behind for him — the bracelets you’ve made

he finds little sticky notes that you used to stick around his lab with little reminders of make sure to eat :) and love you 

and every time, his heart constricts

but the worst is when he stops and rests, and he’s alone in his bed, wondering how he thought this would last forever

when you used to talk about going to liyue, you used to say that you and him would keep in contact through letters. but his mailbox remains empty

and it’s deserved — he knows it’s deserved, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of despair that clutches his chest

and sometimes, after a long day of work, he wants nothing more than to collapse in your arms as you hum and brush his hair out of his face for him. he wants nothing more than to just lean on you as you read, and fall asleep

but the lights to the house are always off. and it’s always empty

emotion is something that albedo doesn’t express often — but sometimes when he’s left alone and he’s too tired to work anymore, he leans his back against the door and puts his head in his hands and cries

he hears of your return from sucrose — its said that you were at the tavern, saying your hellos to everyone again

he abandons his experiment in an instant

(more under cut)

Keep reading

switch up your verbs (part one) ~

walked - hiked - moved - shuffled - toddled - sauntered - ambled - tiptoed - meandered - strolled

laughed - chortled - chuckled - giggled - snorted - guffawed - howled - snickered - shrieked

wanted - ached for - wished - craved - coveted - fancied - pined - aspired

ran - sprinted - galloped - scampered - bolted - trotted - dashed - raced - jogged

jumped - bounced - hopped - leapt - hurtled - vaulted - barged - bounded