Breakbee Snowman

Haha gay

୨୧. 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐮𝐩 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥

: ̗̀➛ when was the last time this man got a good night's sleep? pairing: toji x fem!reader. fluff, fluff, fluff...

an: just needed to get this out before i do my hw lol. i picture this as like pre-relationship :P wc: ~600

toji recalls one of the moments he realized he was whipped.

after hopping from place to place, staying in shitty motels and abandoned train stations, he got his first true and proper rest with you.

he’s used to waking up to the sight of an empty bed, a dirty ceiling or, hell, even the open sky when things got really rough.

so when he opens his eyes, refreshed, one of his arms draped across your waist, the assassin is a bit dumbfounded. toji is quick to settle, blinking a couple of times until you come into focus.

“oh, you’re up.” you smile, leaning comfortably against the headboard. "welcome back, sleeping beauty."

why’re you awake? he thinks. usually he’s the one up and at ‘em, rising before the sun.

by the looks of it, you’ve been up for a while. the television was on, playing one of your favorite shows, the volume lowered. you have a mug in your hands, your eyes brighter than any sunrise he’s seen thus far.

he lifts his head and props himself up on one of his elbows, his hair a mess of black strands pointing in all sorts of directions. “yeah.” he yawns, running his fingers across his scalp before he grumbles. “i’m up, i’m up.”

fuck, is this what actual sleep felt like? he hadn’t felt this good in a while.

his eyes catch sight of your alarm clock and he has to rub the excess sleep out of them to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

“eight in the morning?” he sits up, his shoulder brushing against yours as he rests his weight on the headboard. that's a good three, maybe four hours later than he's used to.

you look at him like he has two heads, unable to keep from letting out a light laugh.

"it's not that late." you pause, keeping a tease from slipping past your teeth as your fingers come up to wipe some dried up drool from the scarred corner of his lip. "you were knocked out."

he clicks his tongue, gently swatting your hand away and finishing the job himself. since when did he drool? "yeah, yeah, i'm not a damn baby."

the bed creaks as he adjusts his position, crossing his legs at the ankle and stealing the mug of coffee in your other hand. his nose wrinkles at the sweetness, at that little splash of creamer you usually add.

"you could've fooled me." you retort, taking back your coffee. "plus, it's sunday, so just go back to sleep or something. i already got breakfast on the way."

toji doesn't know what's worse, the fact that you expect him to stay or the fact that, fuck, he wants to.

his response is just a grunt, a stubborn sound of acceptance. the bed is still warm, the company is good and he knows there's no where else he'd rather be.

he'll think about that later, or maybe he wont. for now, he won't deny himself an extra few minutes of rest while you continue to watch your shows.

he lays back down, blanket over his shoulders, and drapes his arm over your lap, head resting against your hip. "you got extra meat, right?" comes his gruff inquiry, more child than man.

"extra meat." you affirm, one hand bringing that sweet caffeine to your lips while the other laxly combs through his hair.

with that, he seems satisfied enough, finding it odd that his head is feeling so heavy. when he drifts off into sleep, his shoulders rising and falling at a steady pace, he dreams of a big breakfast and the promise of a lazy day with you.

Who's the last one? 🤔

Choose your fighter

Sea the wolf

A mother

Looks innocent, actually is not

Most friendly of them all

Actually cares about the fanbase

Likes milk

Ricardo is her husband

Gay af

Can get overprotective when it comes to Anne

Hates it when anyone ships anne with anyone except her

k i n k y

Wife of the year

Everyone loves her

Can be pretty mean

Hates her son

Bullies her son

(seriously stop wth)

Keekee

let her sleep

tired of this shit

Likes animu uwu

Her waifu is a frog

Actually gay for anne

Hates porn

homie #1

hates to play osu

(because she can't)

The youngest of them all

She is a baby

Let her keep her innocence

Ane

Is a weeb

Homie #2

Has a kink for hair

She's so innocent yet deadly

The second most youngest

Insecure

No one can tell her sexual orientation

A FANGIRL.

SERIOUSLY HELP HER.

Doesn't give a damn about fanbase

At least she pretends to

She's actually really shy

uwu i hate myself

Gay-hoe

Asian

Addicted to gaming

Is fucking tired of this goddamn shit

Probably the most mature one of them all

has abs

daddy kink

Actually a cinnamon bun

Depression

Likes soup

A weeb

CONFUSED.

,,What the hell is going on??"

Lets anne borrow his clothes when she's cold

dead™

A cutie 💖💗💓💞💕❣️💝

Likes aesthetic things

OwO

Likes anime

C u t e

A d o r a b l e

Reading smut on a daily basis

Not innocent.

But still cute uwu

Plays roblox

Suddenly appeared on tumblr

We love her

His Spring — Geto Suguru x Reader

It shouldn’t have happened, not really, not at all—not then.

Careful; he should’ve been careful, and alert. For now he sat in the corner of the room, in a part he didn’t want to be at—with people he didn’t know, wearing clothes he watched to tear apart and let his body breathe—but all on top of that, stood you.

“Wanna join me in this party tonight?” Glossed lips and bashful grin—it didn’t take much, or any persuasion for that matter for him agree. Now, he wasn’t sure why he agreed, or if he did at all and you just assumed his dazed nod, something very natural he’s gotten along doing you, to be a yes.

So now he sat alone in the corner, eyes drafting to every movement of yours, your hips swung— left, right,left —he’d been observing you for a while now, anyone observing him would deem him a stalker at this point.

“What is your type in women?” The question rang in his mind again—something, weirdly enough that had been bouncing back into his mind every few days—his type? He’d wondered then, not really sure.

But he knew now, one look at you and he knew what his type was. One look at you and your silly graphic t-shirt of some anime and he knew his favourite fandom; one look at your converse and he knew his next expenditure; one look at your hair and he knew his hands were perfect to braid them; one look at you and he knew, he knew, he wanted to wait.

Wait everything out—in midst of all that was happening, in the midst of a tragedy his eyes had spotted you. Trained themselves to even see you as he slept.

To where his mind once questioned his existence, he now lay wondering if you liked poppies better of roses. To where he once questioned running away, he now knew he’d run away to you. He could run away to you.

Suguru used to feel he was nothing but a sad, lonely, tired winter, trudging along until the better Spring came about—until the spring made people forget of him- until the winter was no more.

Wrong.

But then again, could you blame him at all? In those black sweatshirts and black pants he’d assumed he’d find himself dead- in that cold shivering winter he thought he’d end—in that gloom, he thought, he wouldn’t continue any longer, he couldn’t. He didn’t know, right? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know, if he could at all live to see another Spring.

When he saw you, the question wasn’t to catch a spring or no, but the fact that he managed to and he considered you his achievement, the most prized one. He could sit and deny it to himself, as he’d tried initially but no, he ached for you. Day and night, he ached for you.

So pitifully wrong he knew he was back then, as your form approached him, a grin on your face, “C’mere,” you’d shouted over the music—so wrong he was.

For while you pulled him closer on the dance floor, of a party he disliked, he clung onto you- his dark hair ruffling to your shoulders too—for just then he knew that you were his Spring. You made him forget about his lonely, tired winter, you made him breathe. As you wrapped your hands around his neck and danced close to him, nothing romantic and yet he wouldn’t complain because Suguru lived every moment spent, had it been around you, basking in your Spring.

And as he held you close, supporting himself with you, knowing you loved it too, he smiled.

—

“What’s your favourite colour?” You’d asked with a grin, brows raised and a chart in your hand, “We’re gonna paint your house that colour!”

He’d smiled, and before he could say anything at all, “Wait let me guess,” you chimed in quickly, “Yellow? The light kind,” a smile adored your lips, a squeal bursting to escape and it did too as he nodded with a chuckle.

Your arms found themselves wrapped around him, “I know you so well,” you’d laughed and stared into his eyes—he stared in to yours, knowing all too well that until the word ‘yellow’ had escaped your lips, he was sure he hadn’t known that colour properly at all. And now that you’d said ‘yellow’ he knew he’d fallen in love with a colour too—a colour of life, he’d smiled.

But the truth lay all too bare for until you had said the word ‘yellow’ Suguru hadn’t found his favourite colour at all.

Taglist: @illogicallyx @immurrsed @rizzmin @abitoldschool @bbytamaki

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geto as zoro

Graves breathes:

Alejandro:

I think TOO MUCH about their stupid drinking partys in the saloon or smth