Dabi Coming Into Ur Room, Annoyed That Your Not Paying Attention To Him, And Giving You Shit Playfully

Rory, I have 4 words for you: mother in law Kutchel 😮‍💨😮‍💨

oh my God, mother in law kuchel is giving me butterflies aaaaghh

even before you and levi got married, kuchel has always been the kindest to you. the day when levi first introduced you to his mom was something you will never forget because kuchel took it upon herself to act as your second mother; fussing over you, putting more food on your plate, and asking you if you feel alright after the long travel to levi's hometown. after a hearty dinner, kuchel was telling you stories of little levi running around their house screaming he's the almighty hero or little levi being the absolute angel almost every day of his life (the pictures in the album proved it). that left levi in a red-faced mess beside you, with you always shushing him if he tried to butt in the conversation or wanted to change the subject. you had to kiss away the pout forming in his face and kuchel would gush over how perfect you two look with each other. internally, levi was glad that his mom liked you, his gaze softening as he watched you ramble stories about levi in university to his mother.

kuchel was the first one to know that you said yes to levi's proposal and she was the one who planned the wedding a few seconds after levi said goodbye to her in the video call. you two have a day all reserved to yourselves, where you go out to eat lunch and shop (she calls it girls' day and levi would occasionally remark how original that name is, dry tone and all). if you and levi have kids, kuchel will volunteer to watch over them if it means giving you and levi a break, just the two of you.

there are times when she comes over to your home with brunch and levi just awkwardly stands in the doorway of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand and appearance haggard after a sleepless night of watching over your toddlers. he gapes at the way she coddles you while you two set the table for brunch. it's like kuchel is treating you more as her child than her own, who was just waved off after attempting to get a small piece of garlic bread on the table. you laugh at your scowling husband, giving him the piece of garlic bread he was eyeing to ease his grumbling. his scowl deepens because his mother didn't scold you for taking away one of the food. with a shrug, he lets you feed him, the aw coming from his mother making the heat travel from his neck to his ears. at least he got his garlic bread.

mother in law kuchel has always viewed you as her daughter, way before you officially became one by marrying her son, and it warms her to know that you're the one levi settled down with.

nicknames — genshin impact

summary: if any at all, what are the different nicknames genshin impact men would call you??

characters: ayato, zhongli (i love these two, geo gramps came home so <3), diluc and childe.

warnings: fluff, fluff, wholesome and nice fluff, some hints of possessiveness here and there, nicknames duh. also this was written before ayato’s release so beware of the ooc-ness!

author’s note: y'all drop nothing in my inbox for requests so here’s this. you’re welcome.

AYATO would definitely and absolutely go with a nickname that lowkey gets on your nerves. he somehow gets a kick out of the exasperated sigh that leaves your mouth whenever the irritating endearment is caught by your ears. things like “squirrel” and “sweetcakes” are definitely his favourites because whenever he’s stressed out from all his works as a clan head and the yashiro commisioner, he calls you out in these cringey af names as loud as he can, so loud that all the seven nations and celestia might hear. when you asked him how in the name of the archons did he come up with it, he just said that your cheeks looked like a squirrel’s when you were stuffing them with the cake he bought for you and boy when i say that you get the worst case of cringey secondhand embarrasment upon yourself whenever he says it, but you can’t blame him, your reaction is too adorable! other times, however, when you’re not in the best of moods or had had a very exhausting day or when the tiredness gets the very best of him, he’d put his own mischief aside and engulf you in a very soothing embrace, whispering all sorts of comfort to you in the most gentle possible voice whilst calling you “my darling” and never once did you leave his embrace with any spot of negativity in you.

“how do you do today, my fair squirrel? WAIT COME BACK I’LL STOP CALLING YOU THAT!!”

“hm…? ah… it’s you, darling. come, the night is still young… would you care for some tea? it seems that you have much to tell… pardon? a hug? you know that you never need ask, right?”

CHILDE would go ahead and use something that lets every person in a 5000 mile radius know that you’re taken. give or take, he’d be lowkey possessive and being honestly, it either ends up with you getting a stomach spasm with how you laughed or your cheeks feeling like every pyro vision had been pressed against them. say you’re out shopping with him (and you confirm that this happens more times than is legal) and some person looks at you any way that would be classified as “funny” or “inappropriate” in his mindest, or archons forbid, if they try and to get touchy feely with you and you yourself don’t like it, he would be behind or beside you faster than you’d seen paimon dashing for food. then, he’d casually wrap an arm around your waist or across your shoulders and look in the other direction while saying in the clearest possible voice, “doesn’t that shop make weapons? i was thinking of getting my arrows sharpened. c'mon, sweetheart, let’s check it out. and you were thinking of getting a sword, weren’t you? i think that shop has a good variety, babe.” or something like that. he’d always make sure to get at least three or five nicknames in. hey, don’t blame him. he knows you’re perfect, and he doesn’t want to be sharing that with anyone. he also likes to call you “partner” when you both are sparring (you cannot tell me that you don’t spar when being with this man right here istg). it makes him feel satisfied and complete. and besides, it’s most fitting for someone who is you! you’ve been with him and beside him through the hardest possible things, agreeing to do basically everything he pleads you to (not that you didn’t enjoy the shenanigans he got up to with you), that makes you both partners-in-crime and partners-for-life, doesn’t it?

“come on, partner, that all you got?! you’re making this too easy, wanna lose the bet and kiss me that bad, huh? oh yeah? put your money where your mouth is, let’s how long you’ll last, sweetie.”

DILUC . thinks that your name is the most beautiful and endearing thing that will ever leave his mouth, even if he’d never let kaeya poke into his opinions on you, who manages to capture the eye and heart of the stoic red haired man. more often than not at all, he’ll call you “love,” but that will be behind closed doors and when you’re both alone with each other. it’s not that he’s embarrased and ashamed is something he will never ever be when he’s with you. quite the opposite, actually. he cherishes you, he loves you, because the feeling of warmth, of home, of gentle and accepting love, he didn’t realise how much he needed it, how much he craved it until you came into his life. that’s exactly the reason why he doesn’t quite like a nickname, he just thinks that your name, the name of the person whom he could show his worst to and not have to have his true emotions sealed away behind that placid mask of gentlemanly indifference with, is the very perfect one for you, there’s no other title, or alias or reference that can match up to that. it’s a very beautiful name, and somehow rolls of his tongue just right. whenever he thinks of it, your bright grinning face over some dessert or your embarrased sputtering when he gifts you something that you’d consider off the charts expensive flashes through his mind, leaving the streets of mondstadt gawking at the sight of the diluc ragnvindr of dawn winery smiling, was the world to end tomorrow?

“hm..? what is it? your hands are cold… well, that’s what you get for not listening to me when i asked you to go bring a pair of gloves because it would be cold tonight, [name]. mine will be too big for you, well… would you like to hold my hand, then?”

ZHONGLI stands on the very pinnacle of being a gentleman and he makes sure to let you know how precious and irreplaceable you are to him, and so the a quite frequent yet heart-touching nickname he calls you is “beloved.” it became a very frequent word to leave his mouth, so much so that it had become instinct for him to refer to you as such. he completely and utterly adores your name, don’t get it wrong, he loves how aesthete it is and how easily it slips off of his tongue, but calling you his “beloved” seems so much more fitting to just show how much you meant to him, who had spent millenia and after millenia alone and constantly loosing dear people. more often than not, though, you might catch him calling you “dearest.” the sheer affection that the name comes laced in never fails to make your heart and brain go haywire. you didn’t know how simple words that meant very little when said by other people would become one of the best things you ever would look forward to hearing when it came from him. one of the particular moments he remembers that relate to his was when he had a purposeful slip of tongue while you both were travelling across the minlin region, just for a getaway from the busy life you both lived. you were just about to fall into slumber’s welcoming arms, when he leant over and unexpectedly whispered into your goddamn ear “sweet dreams to you, my fairest.” and zhongli himself didn’t know what he found more adorable, your aflamed visage or your 2 minute late reaction.

“good afternoon, beloved, should we head to xinyue kiosk for lunch? i’ve heard they’ve come out with a particularly interesting dish that has been inspired from inazuman cuisine. hm? oh… mora… it seems i… forgot to take that factor into account.”

“put those papers away, dearest. your work ethic will show no signs of improvement unless you get adequate rest. shall i brew you some tea?”

— GENSHIN BOYS + REUNIONS

feat. kamisato ayato, zhongli, arataki itto, tartaglia

note. grrrrr

AYATO returns under the gentle touch of midnight. your hair swirls in sakura-scented wind, a salted sea breeze catching upon his skin as he draws closer, sword drifting in tow. when you finally meet, it’s the sweet brush of fingertips over your cheeks, a thumb swiped over the rise in them, the tickle of an eyelash against calloused skin—and he laughs. the sound just as delightful as that of waves against rocks, rain against rooftops. and when he kisses you, finally, you can feel yourself being drenched in everything that is him.

ZHONGLI knows you as well as any memory, your skin coveted by antiquity, by the movement of your body and the air that bites at your nose, your cheeks, the tips of your fingers. there’s a warmth in his hands, in the caress of his skin over yours, in the wake of his breath against your shoulders—sweetness that could feel like energy itself. it’s a reunion of divinity, earthly only in the sense of the sublime. it’s pull to you that feels like something melancholy, and yet kisses cascade down the skin of your back like they could only exist from joy.

ITTO could be the warmth of the sun—hands fluttering over your cheeks only to be followed by kisses. he’s laughter, the unbridled kind, sweet enough to be the petals of lilies and roses. he smiles against your skin, pulls you close enough to bury himself in you. this kind of reunion feels like one of a thousand years, but it’s only the second thunderstruck sunrise, and he’s treating it as the last. so he kisses you. again and again. pulling you into him to make you more than memory.

TARTAGLIA returns with the scent of dusk and slashes of some kind of saccharine horror. when your hands follow the soon-to-be scars, he bows his head to you. it’s a movement of apology, of retribution, almost of atonement. if his sins could be written along the expanse of his skin, across every freckle, every scar, it would be your cleansing touch that would set him free. and so he returns. he returns, he returns, he returns.

bokuto as your boyfriend

request:  The type of lover fic is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read 🥺 could I request relationship headcanons with bokuto?

a/n: AH thank you for loving it!!! i like writing those types of things whenever im in a mood to write but not write *seriously*! and yes i LOVE bokuto he’s such a HIMBO my BABY GOD – also i’m trying a different layout for hcs! i think i like my old ones better than making a separate header for each character but,,,,we shall see

[bokuto boyfriend headcanons]

-bokuto, obviously

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My teeth are rotting over how sweet this is ugh. 💜

something for @veenxys <3

"i love you," tomura says under his breath as he watches you sleep. the glow of his tv shines faintly against your figure; face half shown and arm hanging off the foot of the bed, pinky linked with his. he finds himself doing this often during commercial breaks—even though the tv isn't as loud as usual and he's close enough to hear your breathing, he always needs to check that your still there. the hold tightens and he lifts it up, ever so gently to admire it. "i don't tell you it enough..." he pauses, letting your hand down and pulling away from the embrace. a breath leaves him and his eyes are once again glued to the screen, "but i really do."

Tokyo Revengers: Flashing Scenes #1

────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────── Loss (Shinichiro Sano x Fem. Reader)

─────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────

The sea was brimming with the shades smudged up on it by the dull sun hanging over the sad New Year sky.

It had been two years. Two years since the last time Mikey saw this very sun rose up from the east with his people. His people. It was a precious collection of faces that could burn up his soul even when this life had turn it into ashes.

Time... it was beautiful with them.

"Are you missing them too, Taiyaki-san?" mumbled Mikey to his beloved fish-shaped cookie. "Are they missing me too...? I wonder whether Kenchin is doing good or not these days. Because... last night, Emma requested me to check up on him. But you know, I just could not..."

"...why so?"

Came a voice and Mikey frowned.

"You can speak Taiyaki-san?" he said. For a second he thought, with extreme bewilderment, that it was his beloved cookie who asked the question out of his sentence.

However, when Mikey heard the same voice giggle at his foolish words, it became clear to him that it wasn't the case as he pronounced.

For when he turned his head slightly to his left, he found a female leaning against the wharf on which he was sitting beside the ocean port.

She turned her face towards him and Mikey watched the cruel January winds ruffling its fingers past through her (h/c) tresses.

"Such a beautiful morning, isn't it, Mikey?" said the female, smiling a warm smile. "Such a beautiful season to miss your loved ones."

"Who are you?" Mikey asked with the frown settled on his lips deepening.

Exactly.

Who was she?

Coming out of nowhere.

Calling him by his name.

But it seemed, as though she was not in the mood to answer his question as she parted her lips to speak again.

"Shinichiro always used to say that one must always sway away from meddling with the evil. Because it's consuming. The evil. It's treacherous. It came in the night to creep up your chest. To cut through your fibres. To make home inside your heart."

'Huh? Is she delusional?' Mikey thought and said, "what do you mean by this?"

"You know very well already, Mikey."

No he don't.

And how dare she call his name in the same manner his late brother used to say.

"He won't be happy to see you like this, Mikey. All this blood and violence, he never approved of this style and I don't think so that he ever wanted his little brother to engage himself with such things too."

She tilted her head. Her (e/c) orbs took to gaze into his own black ones and Mikey felt them peering deep inside his tattered soul.

"It's been so long..." she mumbled and tore her irises away to look up at the hazy winter sky.

"Let all those who left you live through your sufferings, Mikey. But don't let the void their absence created being filled with anything but sweet memories you made with them... okay?"

The female leaned away from the wharf and took to rummage her hand inside her bag. From inside it, she pulled out a pack of Dorayaki and placed it before him.

"Happy New Year, young Sano. May this year bring you back to warmth."

And, she raised her hand. Brought it closer towards his face so her fingers could grace his cold skin.

The touch...

It was like she just dusted off all of his bad corners.

How could someone who you only met could feel so much like home?

"Who are you?" Mikey asked. This time hoping that she would reply. But all he got in return was her sweet smile.

"Ask your brother," the (h/c) haired female said. "He will tell you about me." And with this, she turned to leave.

But in the process, Mikey caught a hold of a glinting necklace that stayed hanging to her neck.

He knew this necklace...

In his memories. He had seen it in them.

And, he felt, images pouring before his eyes. He felt them carrying him away.

Away... to that day.

"Woah! This is so beautiful, big bro! Can I have it?" Emma chimed. Her eyes shining with admiration as she sat, looking down at a quiet simple floral necklace.

"What are you talking about?" Shinichiro said, looking over his shoulder.

He jumped, the moment he noticed what Emma was referring. Jogging to her, he tried to take the necklace but she hid it behind her back.

"Uh! Emma! Give it back to big bro— from where you found it?"

"It just fell from your pocket," said Emma. "Now, can I have it, please? It's so pretty." She requested. Batting her lashes innocently but Shinichiro shook his head. With a soft face he said, "I will buy you another, Emma. One more prettier than this, okay?"

"No! I want this one!"

"Understand it, Emma," Shinichiro panicked, watching Emma being ready to unleash her stubborn side.

"Pwease, big bro—"

"—Emma, I said I'll buy you another—"

"And as you can see, this is the live footage of two Sanos fighting over a cheap necklace. Behaving like irrational donkeys like always—"

"MIKEY!!"

Now he could see it...

She was there...

There behind Shinichiro's panicky face. There behind his "I might be late for lunch todays."

She was there. That day. She was the one yelling at him for getting into the meaningless fights over the telephone line.

She was his...

"Who's Gourmet Cream, Shinichiro?"

I remember asking him. I remember him choking over his soup. I remember him snatching his phone and blushing for straight one hour.

"Come inside, (f/n)," said Wakasa with tears strolling down his face. "Shin needs you to put his soul to rest..."

She was there.

There outside the church.

Playing hide-and-seek with the shadows. Mourning with the tunes played by her cracking heart.

Her knuckles... they were all white.

Because she was clutching onto that floral necklace so hard. It was as if... as if it was whispering something to her.

As if it was the only thread stringing life into her.

I remember her.

She was big bro's twenty-first proposal and his only yes.

Heh!

And she was his Gourmet Cream.

So, Shinichiro, does that mean that she is broken from the same place as I am?

Does she have this same wound.

The wound which I call....

loss?

this problem has been bugging him for weeks. how dare you, a measly, meaningless extra, dare to make bakugo katsuki, the bakugo katsuki, fall in love with you. the audacity, really. but that’s not the end of it. he wants these butterflies in his stomach gone, and according to Wikihow.com, the best thing to do would be,

— a confession.

so he makes one (after he thinks about it for weeks). it’s probably the best confession you’ve ever recieved, he thinks to himself, if not the only one. a smirk plays on his face, ha, i’m so funny.

the classroom starts to empty out as the bell for dismissal time rings. bakugo walks past your desk, sliding a small, folded note on the surface of the wooden top. “what-” you don’t even get to finish your sentence, because he glares at you with blushing cheeks and runs away. “ok”, you say, laughing at his antics. the note unfolds into a crumpled piece of notebook paper, and there you see in his ugly, scrawny, writing ;

“date me or be lame.”

© solaxena : all rights reserved. do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own.

JJK BOYS’ WHEN YOU CALL THEM BY THEIR LAST NAME !

an. ur so cute when u reblog aha

ft. itadori, fushiguro, gojo, nanami, inumaki, junpei x gn!reader

wc. 0.6k

genre. fluff

► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►

ITADORI YUJI — POUTY. think he’s done something wrong or something to make you angry, so he subtly acts more affectionate throughout the day, makes sure not to piss you off in any way, etc - and you have to hold back your laughter all the while. yuji isn’t the type to be confrontational about but if you do decide to keep up the act for a while, he’ll nervously ask you later on - “are you mad at me?” - he looks like he might cry with those puppy dog eyes of his, please tell him it’s a prank and shower him in affection as an apology <3

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[ TO LOVE ] SCARAMOUCHE.

to love is to betray—at least that’s how scaramouche has always seen it.

and then he meets you.

“this is my bath,” you tease him lightly, and even despite the shooing motion of your hand, even despite the soft glare sent your way, you still make room for him to settle between your legs.

“well, it’s also mine now too,” he huffs.

he leans his back against your chest, let’s his body melt in against yours, let’s the soft trace of your hands fill the empty cracks with something he’s lacked for long time.

scaramouche is almost certain you realize he’s in love with you before he comes close to knowing himself. and it’s funny—even though you fall first, he falls harder.

maybe it’s just the world being cruel once again, just as it always has been with him. it’s cruel, downright evil, really, that something about you makes him forget so easily who he is, who he’s supposed to be. love has always written itself as betrayal—but you make it seem so promising, luring out the softest parts of him, the naive ones that hope and hope…just to crumble in the end, like always.

but then you wash his hair, lathering shampoo into your hands and working through his hair softly, slowly, delicately like he’s fragile.

“admit it. you just like it when i wash your hair, huh?” and you’re still teasing, still using that slightly amused tone when you speak to him. he should be insulted, he thinks, but there’s a smile on his face.

for a moment, he notes that he’s lucky his back is facing you and the smile stretched across his lips is hidden—otherwise you’d have the satisfaction of knowing you’re right. because he does love when you wash his hair, he loves the closeness and the safety and the feeling of being wanted. of being cherished. of being something to someone without having to earn it first.

but he can’t bring himself to admit it, so instead, he scoffs, leaning more weight onto you as he quirks a brow.

“well, why wash it myself if you’re around?”

it’s his way of giving himself the upper hand—his way of convincing himself that love is not the reason why he so desperately chases the tenderness of your fingers against his scalp. no, instead, he convinces himself that mortals such as you were made to serve him like this. to treat him like he’s holy and divine, like he’s the god you’re meant to worship as you kiss his shoulder with a giggle.

“that’s true,” you hum, “why would you do it when i can take care of you?”

but you’re different—and it scares him a little. you don’t worship him like he’s a deity, like he’s all mighty and the answer to your prayers. instead, you simply love him, like it’s a choice, like it’s something you want.

you cover his eyes as you rinse out the suds. love. you cup his cheek and admire him. love. you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, teasingly grazing over his lips before pulling away. love.

everything about you is completely in love—but to love is to betray, and he knows the inevitable will be soon to come.

so he denies the urge to pull you back in, ignores the almost painful need to feel your lips press against his, turns away every part of him that screams to let i love you spill from his lips.

because every time he loves, every time he so graciously gives every piece of himself—like the heart he doesn’t have, even offering the parts that don’t exist and giving them up anyway—love always tastes like a bitter sip of betrayal.

i love you, he wants to say. but he knows as soon as the words slip, so will you from his fingers. just like the last time—just like the first.

“you don’t need to take care of me,” he grunts, “i’m fine on my own.”

“on your own,” you hum in thought, as if you’re carefully taking in his words. “isn’t that lonely?” you ask softly. by now, your hand has resigned to rubbing slow circles into his chest, pulling him in closer, almost as if proving a point.

i’m right here. you’re not alone.

“no,” he says stubbornly, “i’m above needing—”

“cause sometimes i’m lonely,” you admit, cutting him off. there’s no shame in your voice, not even a trace of hurt or sadness or even hatred. instead, you smile, pressing another kiss to his shoulder, and then the crook of his neck as you murmur, “but i guess not so much when i’m with you.”

“me?”

“yeah,” you nod, resting your chin on his shoulder, cheek pressed against his, “you. cause i love you, you know?”

and once again, scaramouche realizes he’s in love. he’s been so painfully in love for so long—and he thinks you’ve known it for even longer.

and to love is to betray, he thinks—but you’re still here, still holding him tight in your arms as you smile into his skin. so he finds a little hope, a little relief, as he closes his eyes and listens to your heartbeat against his back.

after a moment, with a tight grip on your thigh and wobbly lips, he quietly whispers, “i think i love you too.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

ft! kei tsukishima , ryuunosuke tanaka , rintarou suna , && kiyoko shimizu ! 

˗ˏˋ aka : how they say i love you.  ˎˊ˗  

⋰˚☆ KEI TSUKISHIMA !

━━━━ the way he speaks to you in a softer tone than he has for anyone else; ruffling your head when you make a joke; sending links to playlists he made for you, and only you, at midnight; helping you study; saying that you’re his idiot; reading to you in his room as you head rests on his chest.

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