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While working on the full version, I just felt the urge to chibi-fy it.

bf sukuna >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

QUESTIONS I’VE NEVER ASKED MY BOYFRIEND [one]

RYOMEN SUKUNA X FEM! READER

[ series materlist ] 

- in which the reader asks a series of question to her boyfriend that she haven’t asked before.

- modern time period

You: Are you ready, babe?

Sukuna: Yeah, ready for your stupid questions

You: Oh shut up, you’re probably excited deep down

You: How do i look?

Sukuna: Filthy

You: That’s you way of saying i’m pretty? I get that you’re shy i’ll take it

Sukuna: You look pretty

You: Okay, let’s start

You: First question, let say that you’re single

You: What’s the first thing that attracts you in a girl?

Sukuna: Ass

You:

Sukuna: I’m joking baby, umm let me think

You: It’s probably ass that’s why you’re taking too long

Sukuna: Shut up, i’m answering not you

Sukuna: Good teeth maybe

You: Huh?

Sukuna: God, i hate people with bad teeth

You: Whatever, it’s better than ass

You: If you could change one thing about me, what would it be?

Sukuna: I won’t change anything, dummy

You: My attitude?

Sukuna: I wouldn’t like you if you had a different attitude

You: Even when i’m stubborn??

Sukuna: Even when you’re stubborn

Sukuna: If i don’t like you’re attitude, i’ve already broken up with you and found someone else

You: Try and i’ll cut off your dick

Sukuna: Whahahaha stink

You: When you first met me, what was your first thought about me?

Sukuna: Eh annoying

You: Be serious

Sukuna: I thought you were annoying, doll. Met you through Yuuji and that boy is annoying so you probably were too

You: So why’d you asked Yuuji all about me? Hmm?

Sukuna: Cause you we’re interesting

You: What do you mean?

Sukuna: You didn’t wanna sleep with me i found that interesting

You: Boy, not everyone wants to sleep with you

Sukuna: Shut up doll, now you’re obsessed with me

You: Okay, so remember you gave me your number on the second night we met and i took it but i didn’t text you or anything

You: What was going through your mind when i didn’t chat you like i said

Sukuna: I thought i wrote the number wrong or you just don’t fuck with me

You: So when i came to the tattoo shop and you saw me, what did you think about that?

Sukuna: That it was destiny, love

You: You don’t even believe in destiny

You: Did you enjoy tattooing me? The first time?

Sukuna: Yeah, you were staring at my body that time

You: Shut up! I wasn’t, it’s weird that you tattoo shirtless dork

Sukuna: That’s not my problem, dollface

You: So the night of that day, i texted you. How’d you feel?

Sukuna: Happy

You: Just happy?

Sukuna: Yeah, happy

You: You don’t like commitment, why were you sure of a relationship with me?

Sukuna: Because i like you. It’s not that i don’t like commitment there’s just no one i wanted to take seriously. I felt that with you. Ever since i met you i’ve been losing control, you know. I thought that i would’ve been miserable if you found someone else

You: You said, you’re first impression of me was annoying

Sukuna: Wanna know a secret?

You: Hmm?

Sukuna: One year

You: Huh?

Sukuna: When we first met i already liked you for months. I still thought you were annoying but i liked you. That night at the party you were the one who talked to me that’s why i had a chance to give my number to you.

You: Eh? You liked me even then???

Sukuna: Hm yeah, i guess? Saw you walking with Yuuji all the time. You had the face that i like.

You: You didn’t even know how i was as a person

Sukuna: I liked Yuuji’s stories about you

You: Do you think i love you more than you love me?

Sukuna: Impossible, sweetheart

You: Okay, this is an interesting one

You: If we ever break up, what do you think will be the reason?

Sukuna: [Name]

You: I just wanna know :(

Sukuna: We won’t

You: How sure are you???

Sukuna: Hmm very, you love me too much

You: Fair enough

You: Do you remember our first fight?

Sukuna: Um what was it again?

You: When i thought you were cheating on me but you weren’t and you got mad because of the fact that i don’t trust you

Sukuna: I was annoyed

Sukuna: Angry even

You: I’m sorry bub

You: It happened in our early days as a couple so i get a pass

Sukuna: Can i ask a question too?

You: Kay, what is it love

Sukuna: How much do you trust me?

You: Hmm i trust you enough to the point were i know my future will always be with you

Sukuna: Good save

You: I mean it!!!

You: You know how i don’t like thinking about the future because it’s scary?

You: When it comes to you i don’t feel scared of the future because i know at the end of the day everything will be okay when i’m with u

Sukuna: You’re getting emotional, don’t cry here

You: I’m not, next question now

You: Do you get annoyed when people assume you’ll just hurt and leave me?

Sukuna: I don’t care

You: Really?

Sukuna: I’ll only care if you actually believe them

You: I don’t believe them baby

Sukuna: I know

You: How do you know?

Sukuna: Cause you’re my girl

You: When you first met my parents, how did you feel?

Sukuna: Nervous, cause of the tattoos and stuff

You: What do you mean?

Sukuna: Well i don’t think face and body tattoos are good impression to your girlfriends parents so i was nervous that they won’t like me

You: They liked you though

You: My mom loves you

Sukuna: Hmm, also me and your father will grab dinner later

You: What???

Sukuna: You can’t come, boys only

You: The fuck?

You: My ass or boobs

Sukuna: Your ass

You: Why?

Sukuna: I like grabbing it

Sukuna: Smacking it also

Sukuna: and burying my face in it

You: How often do you think of sex?

Sukuna: I think of fucking you all day babe

You: Ew

Sukuna: You’re saying ew and you’re blushing

You: Am not, this is makeup

You: Okay last one, finish the sentence

You: [Name] is my … ???

Sukuna: Bitch

Sukuna: [Name] is my bitch

You: Not that

Sukuna: My whore

You: Nooooo

Sukuna: Hoe?

You: I hate you

Sukuna: okay

Sukuna: She’s my lover

Sukuna: [Name] is my lover

Sukuna: Good answer, eh? Now you’re blushing

You: Boy shut up, gimme a kiss

likes and reblogs are appreciated. this is base on my imagination don’t take what i write too seriously!!! thank u 

*spongebob voice* you like your baby sister dont you chara

forgetful.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.

"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.

"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.

"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."

he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.

"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.

"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."

"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."

"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."

squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.

despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.

"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."

he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.

"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.

"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."

you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.

it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.

before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.

"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"

"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"

"people are staring!"

"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."

"i take it back!"

you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.

"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."

he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.

"how do you have my gloves?"

"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."

you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.

"pretty much, yeah."

once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.

"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.

minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.

"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."

because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 01.01.2024]

🌸📱

Finger hearts Finger guns

I know I've been away from this save for some time but idk who the hell taught this kid how to walk already.

i ship them too!!

Sum smoochies from Drifty XD

For @winteriron-week

Prompt: First Meeting

this is what happens when you text and walk, you meeting the love of your life.

I was gonna draw them at a coffee shop but I got lazy

YESSS!! 😻 😻 I live for this now

So, in your "M'ma Cabrera adopts Gaby" headcanon, please, please, tell me, i need to know. Does Gaby get a cute nickname the same way Fenton is M'ma's "Pollito" ??

Yes! Definitely! At the start, she doesn’t have one. M’ma Cabrera just called her Gabriela and even if Gabby didn’t like it that much, she let her because M’ma fought tooth and nail to get her out of a cell, and she wasn’t going to be ungrateful. If not until, one day, Gabby slips out and calls Mrs. Cabrera “Mamá” (picked up for all those times that Fenton said it) that M’ma does get her a nickname (that Gabby despises cause it’s so childish but M’ma likes it and it’s sounded really intimate like family and well, at the end Gabby does like it a lot.)

Now, the nickname she gets depends on why Fenton has “Pollito” for a nickname. And, it’s interesting that he does have that instead of “Patito”, that would be the most logical option. I have a group of different headcanons for it, simply because there’s absolutely nothing in canon that gives us a signal lmao

If it’s just something that occurred to M’ma at the moment and thought it was simply cute, she would probably go with the same route with Gabby, calling her “Pollita”. If it was some teasing way to address M’ma Cabrera (maybe someone joking that she was a Chicken-hen with the way she worried over Fenton), then she simply would choose “Pollita” too. But if the nickname has some specific story to it (like maybe Fenton, when he was a child, firmly believed he was a rooster instead of a duck, and M’ma indulged him lmao or his dad was actually a white rooster and he named him like that and it just stuck), maybe she would find something else, I’m still not sure what species is Gabby (I’m between an owl or parrot), so the nickname maybe would have something to do with that, maybe “Lorita” or something of the like. 

But would be childish and embarrassing and Gabby would hate it and love it at the same time lmao

Flake in Rohwedder - Documentary (2020)

Tiny business babies: Skzoo and Aniteez Rival business partners, worst enemies. (But only on the clock. After hours they’re best of friends 💛)

So sweet!!! 💕

PILLOW TALK — DAVIS MITCHELL 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and davis baked you a cake and built you a pillow fort. oh! and nothing was demolished during your birthday celebration, so what more could you ask for?

warnings: i’m going off the rails pretending i understand demolition on a profound level, eating, fluff. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1830

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the third time, making it everyone’s problem with a self indulgent fic during which i enjoy some cozy time with my wife, davis. 🛋️ thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“What do we do with a couch like this?” Davis looked at you with a small grin on his bearded face. He pointed his index fingers down at the couch while he sank further into the cushions.

Your first instinct was to say to buy a new one. And your instinct was not wrong, the couch had seen better days. The seats were worn out, torn at the seams. It got bumps in some places from when you had struggled to carry it in the living room. It could benefit from never carrying the weight of your world again and passing along this responsibility to a fresher, newer couch. Despite all of those thoughts running through your head, you did not speak. You watched. You watched Davis while he pulled the couch apart.

He plopped the decorative pillows and blankets on the floor. He dragged the couch away from the wall and grunted while he flipped it so that the back rest now created a roof. He used the big seat cushions as walls on each side and he surprised himself, realizing that it seemed sturdy enough to keep this shape.

You watched him demolish and build anew. It was not the first time that he transformed your living room in a pillow fort, but there was something different about the way he built it, like he was putting his heart into it. There was something different about him, period. With that thought lingering at the back of your mind, you tried to intervene. He turned down every single offer of help that you made and he insisted that he could do it alone.

“It’s your birthday." Davis simply answered, as if this specific date on the calendar prevented you from doing anything at all. Even when you two were baking a box cake mix together an hour ago, he only let you preheat the oven. He did the rest all on his own. Well, he tried to. The last time he had attempted to make a cake this way, it was with his mom years and years ago. He murmured under his breath that it wasn’t considered fancy enough so he stopped having them.

The idea sparked in his mind when you told him that you did not have anything planned for your birthday. He showed up, dressed in baggy pants and suspenders, with the box of overpriced chocolate cake he somehow found at a gas station that carried some groceries, for emergencies and last minute plans. You were lucky that it had not expired already.

Davis insisted that birthdays required a cake. So he got to work. Davis insisted that he must prepare it for you, so he did. He wanted to give you this special attention. This special attention came with the secret term and condition that he must eat the batter straight from the spatula until the oven beeped, announcing it was ready. You did not quite have a cake anymore, the mould was half empty (”Half full,” Davis rectified).

It was the thought that counted. And you definitely appreciated Davis’ thoughtfulness. You laughed when he told you he did not care about the stains of batter on his clothes, the army surplus had many more he could buy. You wiped the dishes dry after he washed them, laughing again at how he was making a mess of soapy water everywhere. It was not the cake that held sentimental value, it was the moment you were sharing together.

“Your castle is waiting for you, milady.” The upper half of Davis’ body peeked out of the pillow fort. Somehow he had found a flashlight in your living room and he used it to light up the inside of the fort. A wide smile, from ear to ear, greeted you when you walked across the living room and got on all fours to crawl into the mountain of cushions and pillows.

Before you crawled, you handed the plate of leftover cake to Davis so you both could have a snack in the cozy fort. You took a bite as soon as you were settled in. Soon enough the air was getting warm under the blankets and you took off the cardigan you were wearing.

Davis grabbed it and set it aside for you. He looked at you, still smiling wide. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” You pushed the plate of cake in his direction. He made the last few bites of the chocolate dessert disappear. It caused him to giggle at himself and the happy sound of his boyish laugh made you smile back at him. “It’s been a very happy birthday with you.”

Silence crept between the two of you. He was not a very talkative man, for the most part, and it was hard to come up with a conversation topic a lot of the time. You were learning to welcome the silences. And you were also learning to accept the more random conversations, the wild thoughts that ran through Davis’ mind and that he spoke out loud, half intentionally and half accidentally. “I like this couch.”

You chuckled and nodded slowly. “You do?” You encouraged him to keep talking.

“Yeah. It’s... You know, it’s comfortable. It makes the room comfortable.” He fidgeted with the spoon in his hands. He was sitting, cross-legged, with his back making a bow. It would probably hurt tomorrow. But tomorrow was another day, another set of problems. There was no problem in this moment, with you. “I hated my house. It was just shiny stuff.” 

His eyebrows arched on his forehead, creating wrinkles that you found yourself thinking of kissing.

“I love your house. It’s just full of you.” He shrugged. “You’re everywhere in this house. I like that. That’s where I want to be.”

“I’m happy you feel like this. Thank you for telling me, Davis.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave you a corner smile and brought a hand to his head. He quickly scratched his scalp and knocked his knuckles on his forehead. It looked as though he was holding himself back, or that he was getting lost in his thoughts.

You couldn’t tell. You offered silence instead as you watched him.

You watched him switch positions from sitting to laying down. “Do you want to do something tomorrow?” He marked a pause. “Together?”

The question surprised you. He did not make plans, usually. He was more of a show up at your door, ringing the doorbell and hang out until his social battery died kind of guy. You knew that about him, only you had always wondered why he would hang out for a longer period of time with you than with anyone else. “I’d love that.”

The flashlight flickered a little bit. His eyelids were getting heavy. “I’d love that too.”

“Good.” You looked at him, your eyes squinting while trying to read what was going on behind those blue eyes.

Davis’ legs were sticking out of the fort, uncovered and exposed to the much cooler air of the room. He rested his head on your bunched up cardigan and he laid on his side, watching you watching him.

“You look tired.” You smiled faintly, he yawned as you spoke.

“Is it midnight yet?” He was not used to staying up late. He got better at it than before, but his body woke up ridiculously early every day like clock work. When you shook your head no, having quickly peeked out of the pillow fort to look at the clock on the wall, he took a deep breath. “I want to be with you until the end of the day.”

You smiled again, this time wider. You decided to lay down next to him. Your faces and bodies were close, but there was a comfortable distance. “You know…” Davis’ big puppy eyes stared at you. “Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Your eyes were met with Davis’ usual blank stare, one that left you perpetually perplexed. It seemed as though there were a million thoughts running through his head but also none at the same time. He took another deep breath. His eyes looked at yours, then looked at the rest of your face and down to your lips. He did not respond with words, but he still gave you a surprising answer.

Your eyes widened from the surprise when you saw him moving closer to you. He got closer and closer, slowly and tentatively.

Davis erased the distance between the two of you and kissed you, gently and tenderly. His lips moved slowly against yours while he made the kiss last for several seconds. His heart was racing, and so was yours. He pulled away and studied your face briefly.

You thought he was afraid of your reaction, when he buried his face in your neck without waiting for you to say or do something. You could not be more wrong.

He kept his face there, hidden in your neck. The smell of the perfume on your skin, the scent of your baking shenanigans on your clothes, the warmth of your body as well as the familiar feeling of your embrace when you wrapped your arms around him… It made him feel safe, it made him feel good. So good that his body relaxed in your arms. Soon enough, you realized, by the way his breathing slowed down and by the faint snoring noises that he made, that Davis had fallen asleep on you.

You relaxed too. Your hands started to stroke his back until you stopped, feeling the urge to hold him close and tight against your body. You looked up to the blankets draped over the couch above you. One sudden move and it could all fall apart. It was a good metaphor for your birthday. One sudden thought and you would spiral away. However, if you stayed right here and there in this moment, this simple yet agreeable birthday celebration would carry on.

Davis did not tell you what was going on in his head nor did he tell you, in full honesty, what he truly and genuinely cared about when you asked him earlier. You dropped the question like a bomb while he was mixing the ingredients of the cake. He told you that the last time he truly cared about something, it went all the way back to when he was a kid and he wanted to run faster than his peers. You could tell this was not the truth, but you let it slide. There would be another time to ask this question, and hopefully another time to kiss again. He let the kiss, this shy yet meaningful peck on your lips, speak for himself. 

The pillow talk was nice, but that kiss was even nicer. The butterflies in your stomach that appeared because of the kiss (perhaps they had been flying quietly for a long time prior) were the greatest birthday gift he could have given you.

Taking the Time to Laugh

Summary: Young Peter had a rough week at school. When the weekend hits, he still pushes himself to study and stop whatever little crime he can catch. Let’s just say some certain Avengers remind him to have fun every once in a while.

Word Count: 2676

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