#guiltscorched

this feathered idiot has impressive boyfriend-sensors and as soon as he hears his man approach, he's spinning to catch him and hold him tight. and just like that, the world slots back into place. his chest expands, breathing in the familiar smell and soaking in the feeling of a heartbeat against his own.

despite all that, he's pretty casual when he speaks - as if he hadn't just spent the last few moments greedily re-familiarising himself.

❝hey there, handsome. come here often?❞

   It was like a dream to be in his arms again, warm in his embrace. Shino purred like a happy feline as he felt his mate tighten his grasp on him. He missed this. Missed the way Keigo’s lips would brush so tenderly against his own, the love in golden eyes, sharp and keen like a predator staking claim to what was his. Feral yet oh so gentle all at the same time.

‘‘Hmm, just flying by~” Tokage teased before yanking on the blondes jacket to tug him into a starving needy kiss.

@guiltscorched​ said: 💓 — sender lays their head on receiver’s lap. /  aizawa for emi!

this is all so new. she still has a hard time believing that it was honestly happening at all. it was only a few days ago that shouta had succumbed to one of her many pick up lines, and even then, she’d thought he was messing with her-- and look at them now.

there’s a cup of coffee in one hand, the other is raking through raven locks at her hip. her ankles are crossed, socked feet up on her coffee table. when shouta had decided to pay her a visit this evening, she wasn’t about to turn him away. the question was, how’d he know how to find her apartment? did he have his own tabs on her this whole time? cheeky. 

smirking, emi scratched lightly at shouta’s scalp, sipping her coffee. emerald eyes left the tv playing idly before them to look down at him. she couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so relaxed when he wasn’t sleeping, good. he needed this. she’d be his pillow as long as he allowed her to be. 

till the end of forever you need to be loved unconditionally. you need to be reminded that love is not temporary, that you deserve it. that those who love you will not leave. you need to be loved the way angels love humanity. or how devils love angels. you need to be loved in greatness, in fullness, you need to be loved hard and fierce. loud, shout it to the ends of the earth, your love won’t leave. you need to be loved when nothing else will be. you need to realize you are worthy even through the end.

Tagged by: @chaosbled (( thank you <3 ))

@guiltscorched​​​​​​​​​ said: [ REST ] sender places their head in receiver’s lap.  /  late inbox call! fyodor for sigma, if this is ok!

soft action prompts [ REST ] sender places their head in receiver’s lap

   Sigma looks down in a blend of surprise and concern when the winter demon lays his head upon his lap. Is he okay? Does he feel unwell? Does he need to lay down? The questions fly to the tip of his tongue, held back like a glass door by observing eyes. Fyodor is more of an enigma than other people. Even with Sigma’s gift in observing people to respond, he is not so easy to contain in the way his patrons are. But he doesn’t mind that. If something was wrong, then he’s certain Fyodor would have said something or given more of a clear sign.

   His features soften now with the tension of alarm dismissed, a faint smile painted upon his lips. He must be comfortable to relax likes this. It makes a bird in his chest sing with delight to know that he can offer Fyodor somewhere that even he can be at rest and peace. There are no threats here in the sky where the angel rules above all. It may not be the safety of the underground, but it is a place that will always be welcoming to those seeking refuge and escape from the world below. Even for the Russian.

   Hesitant fingers hover above black locks for a moment before Sigma lowers is hand to gently comb through midnight silk strands with featherlight touches. But they aren’t light from fear. On the contrary, it was with tender reverence and care offered to only the most important symbols. How cold he not? Fyodor was a savior in his eyes - the first who’d treated him as a person, to be truthful to their word. Something like this felt like the least he could do to show even just a fraction of that.

   Not to mention, he did worry for the other man sometimes. Even if Fyodor could evade the traps that would have brought down nearly anyone else, there were other matters. If he slept enough, if he ate enough, if he took time just to breathe. Perhaps it was silly. So be it. Sigma would worry for him all the same.

✘ ☆ . ⊹ ˗ˏˋ @guiltscorched ( Fyodor ) wants to play ! ˎˊ˗ ⊹ . ☆ ✘

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ —ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ You're NOT from the mafia ! ❜

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃, the child found themselves curious as they stared at the man that obviously didn't belong. He stuck out like a SORE THUMB even ! That white clothing of his looked more like PAJAMAS than normal street clothes; much less the formal attire of the Port Mafia. And why was his hat so WEIRD ?

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ NOBODY in the mafia wears a FUNNY HAT like that ! ❜

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐏 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍  ,    bare fingers upon porcelain skin    ━━          friction of leather barrier castaway  ,    tender caress of unveiled hands a grace reserved for the brunet only   .     gentle but firm  ,    leaving no room to refuse  ,    the ginger coaxed amber hues to meet with sapphire gaze  .      words were an accessory with them  ;    hollow visage languid    &.    lethargic movement were stories untold  ,    riddles syllables would never voice  .     but chuuya knew his partner would do little to tend to harm inflicted  .    ❝    yer bleedin’  .    lemme take care of yer wounds  .    ❞

a small smirk forms on the scholar's lips as he feels familiar hand upon his chest, arms draping over him like a second coat and cape for the well-dressed sumeran. his own hand reaches upwards to scratch gently 'pon the ear and blonde hair of the architect.

❝ bad day? perhaps i should attend your conventions personally to request that they treat you with more... care. but i will allow you to hold me like this, should it provide you with ample comfort. ❞

"i heard it was your birthday." yuri does not offer where he'd come by such information; all he'll present is an enigmatic smile and a velvet-wrapped pouch. within, there's a deck of cards  -  and, somewhere within that deck, a note slipped between cards expressing that he is glad to have met claude. smile widening to a grin, yuri teases, "oh, and there's a birthday kiss in it for you, too."  

[ Claude’s birthday bash ; accepting ]

"How did- no, there's no point in asking, is there?" Claude shakes his head with a fond smile. Yuri has his ways. It's not like Claude's birthday is a well kept secret anyway; those who want to know will find out. Those who don't care, won't. He takes the present, and pulls out his cards. He clicks his tongue affectionately with a smile.

"You know just what I like. The old cards are, well, old. I don't even think it's a full deck anymore. Thanks Yuri." As he examines the cards, a slip of paper falls. He picks it up. "And it comes with a heartfelt letter! If I didn't know any better, I'd be worried you're trying to keep me sweet." He probably is.