musei-thoughts

[musei-thoughts]

He’s driving (me insane)

[musei-thoughts]

he’s so beautiful i love him

[musei-thoughts]

🥺💖

haikyuu dad blurbs <3

ft. my fav haikyuu men! (tsukishima, sugawara, kenma, and osamu)

warnings: osamu’s includes the use of mother and suga’s includes mommy/daddy. note: in my heart tsuki is also a girl dad so… part two w/ more babies? and maybe more characters?

✧｡ kei tsukishima

your husband definitely had a busy schedule. between training and volleyball matches with the sendai frogs, and his museum job, it was quite rare for him to have many days truly off to spend fully with you and your son.

today, however, he was able to get time off to completely dedicate this day to you two.

“did you bring the strawberries?” he questioned you, as he held your one year old son on his lap.

“of course,” you replied, ruffling through your basket to show them to him, “i also got the strawberry shortcake you love so much.”

he gave you a grateful small smile and set your son down on the picnic blanket. he immediately started babbling and moving around. luckily, your baby hadn’t learnt how to walk yet – but sometimes his crawling everywhere felt just as bad and nerve wracking. you both made sure to keep an eye on him constantly, because with his curious attitude, who knows where he might wander off to.

“this is nice,” he said. “i’ve missed having a day off with you two.”

you grinned, “yeah, it is nice to spend the whole day together. he’s definitely missed hanging around his dad all day,” you added, seeing your baby being more clingy towards his father than usual — always finding ways to cling onto him. tsukishima definitely fell for his tricks, too, always carrying the little troublemaker around everywhere.

after a few moments of silence, tsukishima spoke up, “i asked for time off”

“huh?”

“i want to spend more time around you. missing so much of him growing up is killing me,” he said. “so, i asked for a few weeks off. we should take a vacation, somewhere nice.” he nodded to himself as he finished talking, already set on the idea.

“what about your training, though?” you asked, feeling slightly guilty. you would never want him to miss out on something important to him because of you.

“i care about you more,” he stated. “you two are more important to me than anything.”

you smiled softly and leaned close to him. he met your lips with his, delicately cupping one of your cheeks.

you broke away when you heard a little voice babbling louder than usual in the background. tsukishima looked down and gasped, quickly picking up your small child. he looked at your son with a betrayed look in your face, one you had to try your hardest not to giggle at. your husband looked as if he had just been stabbed in the back.

because what your child had just done was smash his head directly into his father’s strawberry shortcake, the one he’d been so excited to eat.

the sight of your son with cake all over his face, and your husband’s disturbed face as he looked down onto his lost desert made you finally lose your composure and break out into a fit of laughter. your baby boy soon started giggling too, as he does have a habit of always laughing alongside you.

even the kei tsukishima couldn’t resist his lips turning upwards at the sight of his adorable family. so, he gave in – right after giving you his usual attitude and rolling his eyes, of course. but he made up for it by kissing your baby’s chubby cheek and bringing him close to him for a tight hug, all while mumbling something about some cake-stealing brat and how lucky he is to be so cute.

✧｡ koshi sugawara

there was something about seeing your husband having tea parties with your little girl after a long day of work that made you want to give him another baby. opening her bedroom door and spotting him wearing a pink tutu while holding his pinky up as he takes a sip of a flower-decorated tea cup made your heart swell.

“umm,” you giggled slightly as you spoke, “am i interrupting something here?”

they both looked startled as they spotted you in the doorway, but both of their faces soon broke into excited grins.

“mommy!” your daughter squealed as she ran up to you and hugged your leg tightly. you chuckled, leaning down and scooping her in your arms.

“what are you guys up to, huh?” you asked your over-excited toddler.

“daddy agreed to play dress up with me!” she exclaimed, “now we’re having a tea party with my plushies!”

“oh, really?” you said, finally turning to take a good look at your husband, who was standing in front of you two. now, having him here, you were able to take a closer look at him – and after looking back at your daughter, you were able to come to a silly conclusion.

“you did daddy’s hair and makeup, huh?” you questioned her, trying your best to hold back your laughter.

she nodded eagerly and pointed to her face, gesturing you to look at the masterpiece she was able to create. you gasped in surprise, pretending to be amazed at her work.

“you really did that? all by yourself?” she nodded again, “oh, wow! you are even better than me!” you exclaimed, feeling proud of yourself at the cute giggles she gave in return.

now, you finally focused your attention back onto your husband.

even with a messy lipstick and an insane amount of eyeshadow on his face, and the wild ponytails on his hair, you couldn’t help but feel he still looks remarkably handsome. damn him and his pretty face.

“did you two have fun while i was gone,” you asked.

suga laughed, “well, mr. poof was sad, so we had to host this party to cheer him up.” you daughter nodded at his comment, seemingly feeling empathetic for poor mr. poof.

you feigned being upset, “awe, without me?”

he rolled his eyes, but your daughter, ever the sweetheart, apparently felt really bad for not including you. she looked up at you with her big, hazel eyes and chubby cheeks, and pouted, “i’m sorry for not waiting for you mommy.”

she laid her head on your shoulder, and hugged you as tightly as she could. your heart swelled at how adorable and considerate your daughter was. that certainly is a trait she shares with her father, who was now looking at the scene in front of him with the gentlest smile ever, and eyes that showed nothing but adoration for the little family you both built together.

suddenly, your daughter perked, looking excited as ever.

“i know!” she declared, “you should join us!”

“join you?”

she nodded exaggeratedly and moved to have you set her down, which you did. now, she was jumping around, incredibly excited at her own idea, “i can make you look more pretty! and daddy can make more tea!”

“alright,” suga chuckled and shook his head before shrugging, “well, you heard her,” he said as he walked past you, not without giving you a kiss on your lips first (an action that caused your daughter to screech “gross!”), and went on his way to make more tea. your little girl didn’t waste a second before grabbing your arm and pulling you to sit down in front of her, the bag of makeup and hair ties already on hand.

all you could do now was laugh softly and silently accept your fate.

✧｡ kenma kozume

when you have a six month old baby, waking up in the middle of the night usually means your child is up crying loudly somewhere nearby. this night, however, the only noises you heard when you awoke were the loud sounds of guns and open fire.

well, it seemed your dear husband was awake.

slightly curious over why he wouldn’t go to sleep – especially since he had a special stream planned pretty early in the day, you slowly crept your way over to his office, which mostly consisted of all his gaming setup and other needed things for his job(s).

you cautiously peaked into the room, only to find kenma sitting idly, playing one of his shooter games, with your baby napping on his lap, looking peaceful as ever.

“...kenma?” you called softly, careful as to not wake up the baby.

he turned to look at you, bewildered. he, apparently, had not expected the noises to wake you up, or at least that’s you deciphered from his surprised look.

“why are you awake?” he asked you, “i thought you said you were tired.”

you gave him a look as you raised your eyebrows, “i am tired,” he cocked his head at you, “but i was forcefully awoken by your game noises.”

kenma opened his mouth slightly in shock. somehow this man really hadn’t expected them to wake you up.

“seriously, why are you playing this late at night? and with the volume up?”

he had the decency to look apologetic as lowered the game volume, and shifted slightly to turn to look at you, while still trying his best to not rustle the baby out of his slumber. 

“he likes it,” he finally said.

“huh?”

“the baby,” he said, as he gestured towards the sleeping infant on his lap, “he started crying non-stop. i tried to get him to go back to sleep but nothing was working.”

he chuckled a little bit, as if his thoughts suddenly amused him, “he only stopped crying once he heard the game noises coming from a video i got on my feed. so i… started playing, and he calmed down instantly.”

you looked at the sleeping child in his lap, utterly shellshocked. sure, you’ve heard of babies having certain songs that keep them from crying, but video game sounds? not only that but from a shooting game?

he smiled softly at you, “i don’t know how you slept through his crying, but woke up at the game sounds. it’s kinda funny, actually…” he paused, then added, “but i am sorry for waking you up.”

kenma did seem remorseful, and after hearing his reasoning, and taking a look at your baby boy resting soundly on his father’s lap, you didn’t have it in you to be mad at him. you tiptoed slowly towards him and kissed his cheek tenderly.

“he definitely takes after you.”.

✧｡ osamu miya

onigiri miya usually had its fair share of customers all throughout the week, and osamu made sure to hire hard-working people to help him around the shop. all of his workers were treated equally and paid respectably. just recently, though, two new members joined the staff, and some might say that the honorable owner of the onigiri shop had clear favorites.

but, really, who is he not to give his little princesses special treatment?

your two twin girls had just turned five a couple of weeks ago, and all they wanted to do was come work with their dad. well, you both agreed to let them help out and ever since then they’ve been non-stop nagging you to let them go there every day.

“what do you say when a customer leaves?” osamu asked the eldest twin while holding her small hand. she had assisted him in taking a table’s order and bringing it to them, making the customers at the table chuckle at the small girl’s silly attitude.

“thank you!” she squealed out, over exaggerating the last part and making a cute pose, causing the costumer’s laugh once again.

an old man, probably around eighty, shook his head before chuckling, “ohh, she’s gonna be a star, i’ll tell you that much!”

osamu smiled, “she sure is,” he said, picking her up. these days it kept getting harder and harder to pick her and her sister up, since they seemed to be growing non-stop. it made him feel emotional sometimes, but also so incredibly grateful he’s here to watch them grow.

he bid goodbye to the customers, feeling glad the shop was now fully closed. he groaned as he sat the eldest twin down on a high chair and scanned his eyes around the shop. 

finally, he spotted her.

the youngest twin was way more relaxed than her older sister. she was too shy to help out with the customers, so instead he gave her the chore of counting ingredients (under her mother’s supervision, of course). though, once you’d left to go buy the groceries you needed for the house, the young girl had immediately bundled up in a booth near the corner, and went to sleep.

he smiled softly at the sight of her looking so calm and peaceful. there wasn’t a day when his heart wouldn’t swell at how adorable his two babies were.

in some ways, the twins resembled atsumu and osamu themselves, a thought osamu always found quite funny.

he was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a bell ringing, usually meaning a customer had arrived. but, guessing from the sign that now read ‘closed,’ he surmised it was probably you. and it was.

your eldest daughter jumped from the chair to hug you tightly, while the youngest still remained deep in her slumber.

“hi, baby!” you greeted the little girl, crouching down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“hey, ‘samu,” you said, standing back up and patting the girl’s head lovingly. “ready to head home? i bought us dinner.”

he gave you a grateful smile, “sure, lemme just finish closin’ down some stuff and i’ll be right out.”

you nodded as you grabbed your eldest daughter’s hand, before looking back onto your sleeping baby.

“i’ll carry her back to the car,” osamu said, “don’t wanna wake ‘er up.”

you grinned softly, it was always sweet how caring osamu was to his little girls. “okay,” you replied, “but hurry up, we don’t want the food getting cold, now do we?”

he playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled softly, “yeah, sure, sweetheart.”

[musei-thoughts]

Need I say more 🥹

Bakugou Katsuki driving a PORCHE–

WOF WOOF BARK BQRK GGGRRR WOF GRRR BARK BARK GRR GRRR WOF WOOFGGRR BARK AAAGGHHH GRR MEOWWOF WOOF BARK BQRK GGGRRR WOF GRRR BARK BARK GRR GRRR WOF WOOFGGRR BARK AAAGGHHH GRR MEOWWOF WOOF BARK BQRK GGGRRR WOF GRRR BARK BARK GRR GRRR WOF WOOFGGRR BARK AAAGGHHH GRR MEOWWOF WOOF BARK

[musei-thoughts]

U-UHHHHH...H-HELLO?? 😳

Deku-sensei is getting caught by a group of villain that attacks UA!

What will he do :( ??

[musei-thoughts]

izuku midoriya did not expect you to barge into his class right in the middle of teaching.

your face was sweaty, a almost panicked look in your eyes as you stood gasping at the doorway, your hand clutching a white plastic bag.

he couldn't really blame his students for becoming startled, because you did look rather ominous with your all-black clothing and that crazed look on your face—you were so adorable though, even if you seemed like you were about to set fire to his classroom—so he lifted a single hand to calm down his shouting students.

which didn't work.

"sensei! is that a villan-?!"

"we're all dead we're all dead we're SO DEA-"

"shut up, we're literally in a building full of pro-heroes-!"

"who is that-"

"bean."

izuku sighed, giving up on controlling his class. he walked over to you, looking rather handsome with his green hair all touseled, his perfectly tailored clothes fitting his lean frame... oh you fell in love again, just by seeing that gentle look in his eyes.

resist. resist. you will not be weakened by a single charming grin-

you nearly melted into a pile of mush as he smiled at you, wrapping a singular arm around your waist.

"h-hey. what are you doing here?"

you frowned up at him, brandishing the plastic bag at him, the annoyed facade dripping off with each second. a small flush covered his face as he peeked inside.

"you forgot your lunch." you mutter, gazing at the class.

a very rowdy class. you squirmed as they all continued to stare at you, the arguments slowly silencing as everyone became aware that you were probably not a villain.

it got silent.

were those crickets chirping in the background?

"i should probably go-"

"yeah... yeah, maybe. do you think you can... come back to eat lunch with me?" he whispers, a hopeful glint in his emerald eyes as he clutches his bento box.

you chuckle and nod, "yes. i'll be back later, 'kay? try not to miss me that much."

izuku nods, stars in his eyes—its you. you're his star—and he presses a quick kiss against your lips (because fuck pda) and watched you go, red prominently shown on his face and a dreamy smile on his wistful face.

oh right he has students. he's supposed to be teaching.

he quickly turned to the class, gingerly putting the plastic bag on his desk as he attempted to form a proper explanation.

the class bombarded him with questions before he could even say what was about to fall out of his mouth.

"sensei, who was that?!"

"was that another hero?!"

"is that your partner, sensei?"

he nods absently, his mind absently replaying the moments he had with you, a love-struck expression on his face.

he looked like a fool in love.

mainly because he is a fool in love.

[musei-thoughts]

No words, just ☺️😭💖

the katsuki bakugou effect

synopsis: where your husband, katsuki, has a way of calming your daughter like no one else can.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki’s ability to calm your daughter is nothing short of magical.

it doesn’t matter how fussy or inconsolable she gets; the moment he holds her, everything changes.

her tiny fists are no longer clenched in frustration, her loud cries slowly taper off, and her little body relaxes in his arms. his presence soothes her in a way no one else’s can.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been at the end of your rope, trying everything you can think of to calm her.

you’ve rocked her gently, hummed her favorite lullaby, even tried a little soft talking, but nothing works.

when your baby’s tears start to escalate, and her little body trembles in distress, you find yourself on the edge of exhaustion.

but then katsuki walks in.

he steps over to you, and with a quick kiss to the top of your head, scoops her from your arms, then instantly, the tension in the room lifts.

his rough hands gently cradle her, and he murmurs something too quiet for you to catch.

you can’t help but watch in awe as she goes from wailing to calm in just a few seconds, her little face nuzzling against his chest. it’s like a switch flips, and you swear you can see her sigh in relief.

it’s always the same. as soon as katsuki’s around, she settles. she looks at him with a calmness that’s impossible to ignore, her tiny lips pouting slightly as she stares up at him.

her little hands grasp weakly at his shirt, her body relaxing into his hold as if everything is suddenly right with the world. and katsuki just holds her, always.

“you’re a softie,” you tease one day as you watch him rock her back and forth.

katsuki shoots you a glare, but it’s softened by the sight of your daughter curled peacefully in his arms. “shut up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. and you can’t help but smile.

you cross the room, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. he stiffens for a moment, but the warmth in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“I’m serious,” you say. “you’re the softest guy I know.”

he lets out a gruff chuckle, his scowl deepening, though it's clear he's enjoying your attention as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

a few weeks later, you’re all at a class 1-a reunion, gathered at the old dorms. the atmosphere is lively, with the familiar banter of your old classmates filling the air.

midoriya’s sitting on the couch, holding your daughter carefully in his arms, cooing softly at her as the rest of the group laughs and talks around them.

but suddenly, the peaceful mood shifts. your girl begins to fidget in midoriya’s arms, her little face scrunching up in that all-too-familiar way before the whimpers start.

a soft cry escapes her lips, and then it builds, escalating into the full-blown wail you know so well. midoriya looks startled, glancing around as if searching for some way to calm her.

“uh, uh, it’s okay,” midoriya says, trying to gently rock her in his arms. “it’s okay, sweetheart."

but your baby’s cries only seem to grow louder, her face turning red as her hands flail helplessly. you glance at katsuki, already knowing what’s coming next.

without a word, katsuki stands up from his seat, the others giving him a bit of space as he walks over.

his eyes lock on your daughter, and there’s something about his gaze that makes everything else fade into the background. he’s not rushing, not frantic.

he just calmly steps in, his arms outstretched.

midoriya silently hands the little girl over. as soon as katsuki has her, everything shifts. he holds her against his chest, and his rough hand gently pats her back.

his thumb brushes against her little arm, his voice soft. “it’s me,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady. “it’s okay.”

your little girl hiccups, her cries fading almost immediately, and then she stops. her lips jut out in a pout, still a little upset, but no longer in distress.

she stares up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if recognizing him. and then, she settles into the crook of his arm, her tiny hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

the room is silent for a moment, everyone watching in awe as your girl rests peacefully in katsuki’s arms. he doesn’t even seem to notice the attention.

his focus is entirely on her, his expression softening as she calms.

you smile to yourself, watching him from the sidelines. even after all this time, katsuki never ceases to surprise you with how much he’s grown, how much he’s learned.

you remember when he first found out he was going to be a father, and how nervous he’d been (though he would never admit that).

but now, here he is, effortlessly calming your daughter.

“man, you’re a real softie now, huh?” kirishima teases from across the room, a wide grin plastered on his face.

katsuki’s eyes narrow immediately, and he glares at his friend. “shut the hell up, red.”

but the teasing doesn’t stop there.

kaminari, who’s been silently watching the entire scene, leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t believe it…the ‘explosion hero’ is actually the baby whisperer now?”

katsuki frowns, and his glare remains trained on the two of them. but there’s a slight restraint in his movements—one that’s only noticeable to you.

he’s trying to stay calm, and it’s all because he doesn’t want to wake your little girl up. you can practically feel the tension in the air as his patience wears thin.

sero, naturally, chimes in with a smirk of his own. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, man. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be ‘aww’ing over a baby like some mushy ball of fluff.”

katsuki’s mouth opens, ready to fire back, but then he glances down at your sleeping daughter, her little chest rising and falling peacefully, and he shuts it again.

for a split second, his fierce expression softens. he takes a deep breath, holding the baby a little tighter.

“you’re lucky she’s asleep, or I would've blasted your asses to oblivion,” he grumbles, but the threat is half-hearted.

kaminari lets out a nervous laugh. “jeez, man, alright, we get it.”

you can’t help but chuckle softly, leaning against the doorframe as you watch them. 

katsuki’s eyes narrow in warning, but despite his frown, there’s a warmth to his expression that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks back at d/n.

it’s moments like these when the rest of the world seems to disappear, and it's just him, her, and the quiet calm they share.

sighing in resignation, he shifts slightly, walking over to you. you watch as he makes his way across the room, still cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she drifts into a deeper sleep.

you don’t say anything at first, but as he gets closer, you meet his gaze with a soft smile.

there’s no denying the softening effect he has when it’s just the two of you—well, the three of you, if you count the tiny bundle in his arms.

he leans into you as he steps to your side, his broad shoulders brushing against yours, and without a word, he tilts his head slightly toward you, seeking the quiet comfort of being beside you.

“I told them to shut up,” katsuki mutters, his voice lower now, quieter. his usual fiery energy is subdued, and he seems content to just be in your presence.

he exhales slowly, letting the weight of the situation fade away. you reach up and gently touch his arm, a soft laugh escaping you.

"she's lucky you’re her dad," you murmur, your eyes flickering down to where your daughter is curled against his chest. "you’re so patient with her."

katsuki scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

“I’m not some damn pushover,” he mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you want to kiss him.

and you do.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[musei-thoughts]

I have melted into a happy and contented little puddle on the ground (with severe cuteness aggression) 😭💖

THREE PEAS IN A POD . . . husband ! katsuki bakugou featuring your two babies / f ! reader / fluff / the both of you are already parents!

katsuki definitely prides himself in having two beautiful babies and the family you built together.

one girl, one boy (he’s older just a bit), and it’s funny how despite you being the one carrying them for 9 months his genes won in a landslide. however, your baby boy has eyes just like yours!

what you didn’t know, was how much they actually took after their dad. it was beyond their physical attributes.

katsuki finally had a day off and as much as you wanted to skip work that day and spend time with them, the projects just kept piling up that you couldn’t even fake a cold.

he reassures you that he can handle them.

katsuki’s woken up by his two little runts, shaking him in excitement. he’d pretend to sleep for a bit, peeking with one eye open to see them frowning at each other because he’s taking too long to ‘wake up.’ only to sit up and grab them. they squeal in surprise as he pulls them down to his chest, twisting and turning—putting them other the covers, already having so much fun at the start of the day.

after he made them breakfast he wanted to take them out to the mall, spoil them a little bit. they were really well behaved (something you taught them well!) and didn’t fuss even when they missed you. thinking that if they’re sad you’re not here, daddy will get sad too and they wouldn’t want that—today’s supposed to be a happy day!

at the mall he’d get a few compliments and whispers from moms and fans. how they look so much like him, how they even walk like him! it’s really adorable how he made them wear matching outfits, even sunglasses! two mini bakugou’s!

but genetics weren’t the only thing they got from him you see. they visited all types of shops, getting a few things of what they want here and there because katsuki always said to “just get anything you want.” their eyes are so bright and full of excitement. he has to slouch a bit while they’re walking hand in hand, bringing him to every aisle they take an interest in while he follows happily.

still, a phrase would always pop up from one of them. “maybe mommy would like this!” or “should we buy these for mommy too?” and they’d be showing it to him so proudly he’s almost melting. feeling so proud that a part of his love for you transferred onto them as well. they’re absolutely his kids, no doubt about it. ends up getting everything they wanted to get for you.

doesn’t even care if it’s obvious that you’re their favorite. chuckling to himself that the bags he’s carrying is mostly stuff the kids picked out for you. besides, you never asked for anything, but they listen real well, just like their father. “i hope mommy’s happy with all the things we got her!” your daughter says while he helps her with her seatbelt. “she definitely will be.”

and when you get home you see he’s watching them from the couch as they set on their little chairs drawings happily. when they realize you were there all three of then stands up to greet you. and you give each of them a kiss.

when you helped sort out some of their ‘shopping’ you see a this really expensive coat that you were eyeing just a week ago while your little girl slept on your lap (you didn’t know she was peeking from time to time).

you’re so happy you ended up hugging him so tightly, “oh my katsuki, how’d you know?” and he would shake his head with a smile, “i didn’t pick that one babe, she did.”

yeah, they definitely take after him at least eighty percent!

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : papa katsuki cradling his little ones in each of his arms while carrying the bags without the need of a shopping cart… i’d be asking for baby number 3 idk what to name these two ><

[musei-thoughts]

🥺💖

a morning behind the explosions

pairing: timeskip bakugo x reader (married with kids au)

notes: this was waaayy back in my old drafts so enjoy reading :P

The early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The soft murmur of your children’s voices could be heard from the kitchen, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. You smiled, knowing that the morning chaos had already begun—your two kids were always up bright and early, full of energy, ready to face the day.

You rolled over in bed, only to find that Bakugo’s side of the bed was already empty. You sighed with a smile, knowing exactly where he was.

As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Bakugo, his red eyes narrowed in concentration, wearing a faded “Kiss the Cook” apron over his usual black compression shirt. He was standing at the stove, one hand gripping a spatula while the other tried to balance a skillet full of eggs.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. "How’s the kitchen going today?"

Bakugo grunted, not turning to face you. “Don’t laugh. I’m making breakfast, alright? The kids wanted pancakes.”

You watched him flip an egg with surprising precision for someone who usually preferred to blow things up rather than cook. Despite his fiery personality, Bakugo had become a surprisingly competent cook over the years—especially after the birth of your first child. He didn’t want to admit it, but you knew he loved taking care of his family, even in the little things.

“Do they always expect you to cook?” you asked, stepping into the kitchen and moving to the counter to grab a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, well, they love my pancakes,” Bakugo said with a huff, his back still to you. “And if I let you cook, they’ll be crying ‘cause you’re too slow.”

You chuckled, watching as your youngest, a rambunctious four-year-old boy, scampered over to the kitchen table. His bright blond hair—so similar to his father's—was a mess, sticking up in all directions.

"Daddy! Can I have the biggest pancake?" he asked, his wide, eager eyes shining up at Bakugo.

"Quit being so damn greedy," Bakugo grumbled, but his voice had softened. He slid a plate of pancakes onto the table for your son. "Eat this first, then we’ll talk about the ‘biggest’ pancake."

Your heart swelled as you watched Bakugo gently serve his son, his gruff demeanor melting just a little when it came to his kids. It was a side of him that you had fallen in love with—the fierce hero, the protective husband, the devoted father.

As your son dug into his food, your daughter, who was just a year older, strolled into the room with her hair tied up in a messy bun. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, still half-asleep, but already demanding attention.

“Mom, can you make my pancakes in the shape of a heart today?” she asked, her voice still sleep-ridden but sweet as can be.

You smiled at her, walking over to give her a quick hug before turning to your husband. “I think she’s requesting a little extra love this morning,” you teased.

Bakugo rolled his eyes but was already pulling out a second skillet to make heart-shaped pancakes. He didn’t say anything, but his subtle smirk told you that he didn’t mind.

“Are you still planning to take them to the park later?” you asked, stirring your coffee.

“Yeah,” Bakugo replied as he flipped another pancake. “I said I’d take ‘em, so I will.” He turned to look at you, his fiery red eyes softening. “You can stay here and rest. You’ve been working all week. I got this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to sit on the couch while you do all the work.”

“Tch, I don’t need you hovering over me,” he muttered, but his voice was softer than usual. “It’s not a big deal.”

You gave him a knowing smile, watching as he poured batter into the pan, a small frown on his face as he tried to make sure the pancakes were perfectly shaped. “You’re getting good at this.”

Bakugo shot you a glare, but there was no heat in it. “You don’t need to act so surprised. I’m not some idiot who can’t learn stuff.”

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. I love seeing this side of you, you know?”

He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed into your embrace. “Shut up,” he muttered, though the faintest blush crept across his cheeks.

Your son, now finished with his pancakes, climbed into Bakugo’s lap. "Daddy, can you play with me later?"

Bakugo gave a small sigh, but the smile that tugged at his lips was soft. “Yeah, I’ll play with you after I finish here.”

You watched them, your heart full as you saw the fatherly bond between them. Despite the explosive nature of his quirks and his harsh exterior, Bakugo was, without a doubt, the most dedicated father. And it was in these small, quiet moments that you saw just how much he cherished being a family man.

You grabbed the plates and began setting the table, glancing over at him. "You know, Katsuki, I’m really proud of you."

He scoffed, but there was no hiding the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Tch, don’t get all sappy. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek quickly before returning to your task. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you.”

As the morning unfolded, you all sat down together at the table, sharing breakfast and laughs. The chaos of family life, while loud and often overwhelming, was something you had come to cherish. You didn’t need grand gestures from Bakugo—his love for you and the kids was shown in the small moments, in his quiet care and dedication to making sure everything was right.

And in that moment, surrounded by the noise and joy of your family, you knew that no matter how intense the world got, you had your own little piece of peace right here.

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[musei-thoughts]

My prayers will always be for the victims of war all around the world. May God comfort you amidst the crisis that's happening in this cruel world. God, bless everyone ♡

Thank God that God was kind to my family (my children) and protected them, thank God 🥺🤲🏻

These are the missile fragments that penetrated the tent where my young children live. Thank God they are fine, but I do not know what could happen to them over the days because there is no safe place and they suffer greatly from the repeated displacement. What is the fault of the young children that they do not live a safe and loving life?

Can we get them out of the war before the end of the new year and before my daughter (Layan)'s health deteriorates with your support?

Please do not hesitate to support me and share my campaign with your friends

Please don't ignore us, take care of us, I don't know how to explain to you how difficult life is and the pain while he is away from his young children, especially in these circumstances and my feelings after losing everything we have, and asking for help is very difficult 😓

[musei-thoughts]

this new illustration is…… uni student kuroo dropping by to check on nekoma 3rd year student kenma and karasuno’s 2nd years…….. haikyuu you will always be my everything

[musei-thoughts]

Mohanad and Farah: War Stole Our Dreams

My wife Farah and I once had a dream home in Gaza, filled with hope. But the war destroyed everything. We lost our jobs, our apartment was bombed, and we were left with only debt.

We married quietly amidst the chaos, and since then, we've been forced to move between shelters and tents, always uncertain and struggling for basic needs. Now, we share a small rented house with other families, still living in fear of what might come next.

This video shows the details of our story; I kindly ask you to watch it and support us

Despite it all, we hold onto hope.

Vetted by @gazavetters, Number (#42) on this list

Vetted by association in this post

To donate 👇🏻👇🏻

Thank you for your kindness and support 🌸💚

Mohanad & Farah

[musei-thoughts]

🚨 Help Us Escape the Devastation of War 🚨

Hello, everyone.

My name is Mohammed Abu Swierh, and I’m writing to you from Al-Nuseirat, Gaza, where my family and I face unimaginable hardships. My wife and I are raising our three beautiful children: Mira (6 years), Bakr (3 years), and Maria (1 year). But our once peaceful lives have been shattered by the relentless conflict that has plagued Gaza for about a year. 💔

Our home, which once held so many dreams, is now damaged beyond recognition. Every day, our children live in fear, surrounded by destruction, without the safe place for our children to grow up. The war has stripped them of the freedom and childhood they deserve. Instead, they are growing up in a world filled with fear, uncertainty, and despair. 😔

After many sleepless nights and countless prayers, we’ve come to the heartbreaking decision that we must leave Gaza. We are hoping to build a safer, better future for our children, a future free from war and filled with hope.

But we can’t do it alone. Here’s where you can make a life-changing difference for our family:

$20,000: To cover the expenses of leaving and rebuilding our lives in a safe country.

$39,000: For a year’s worth of rebuilding our life, housing, food, and essential living costs as we adjust.

$1,000: To cover transaction and fundraising fees.

We humbly ask for your help. No contribution is too small, and every dollar brings us closer to giving our children the chance to grow up in peace. This is more than just a financial plea, it’s a call to save a family from the grips of war. 🙏

Your generosity can be the light that leads us out of this darkness. Please consider donating and sharing our story with those who may want to help. ❤️

[musei-thoughts]

Crying, sobbing, weeping, and just tearing up at this heart-melting fic, I CANNOT 😭💖

tiredhusband!nanami x housewife!reader

Nanami Kento has always been a man of order, routine, and discipline—traits that extend into every facet of his life. Today, however, he's unraveling. You hear the front door creak open as his key turns in the lock, the sound accompanied by a long, drawn-out sigh. It's a sound you’ve grown used to but never entirely comfortable with, as though each exhale from him carries the weight of an entire day—a day spent fighting against the chaos of the world while he himself is methodically wound tight like a clockwork soldier.

You’re in the kitchen, hands deep in soapy water as you scrub a few dishes from earlier. The domestic routine you’ve built feels comforting, yet as you hear his heavy footsteps approaching, the air shifts. Even before he enters the room, you can sense the exhaustion emanating from him. He doesn't greet you with words at first, just the shuffle of his feet and the thud of his briefcase hitting the floor. It’s always like this—he comes home in a suit that looks perfect in the morning, only to return with his tie loosened and his shirt slightly crumpled. Nanami’s back faces you as he stands at the kitchen door, leaning against the frame for a moment, gathering himself.

"Welcome home," you call out softly, turning to face him, your hands dripping suds into the sink.

Nanami looks up at you, eyes tired but softening at the sight. His lips barely manage to curve into a smile, but it's there, subtle yet sincere.

“I’m home,” he replies, voice gravelly from hours of not speaking unless necessary. His eyes scan the room before they settle on you, standing there in your apron, your hair tied back in that familiar way he’s come to adore.

You wipe your hands on a towel, knowing that he needs more than just food tonight. You cross the room without a second thought, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. He stiffens at first—it’s instinctive, that tension—but then he melts into you, his back pressing into your chest, as if your warmth is the only thing keeping him upright.

“I made dinner,” you whisper against the fabric of his shirt, your cheek pressed to his back. "But if you're too tired to eat right now, we can just sit."

He inhales deeply, a slow, deliberate breath, as if trying to absorb you into his lungs, seeking solace in your presence. “No, I should eat something,” he murmurs, but his voice betrays him. He’s not hungry for food. He’s hungry for peace.

You reluctantly release him, watching as he slowly makes his way to the dining table. Nanami moves like a man who's spent all his energy on survival, and now, in the safety of home, he lets himself unravel. He sits down with a deep sigh, running a hand through his short, neat hair, his fingers lingering at the back of his neck as if trying to massage away the tension. His suit jacket comes off with a lazy shrug, revealing the white dress shirt beneath, the top two buttons undone, exposing the strong lines of his neck and collarbones.

You plate the meal, something simple but hearty, placing it in front of him before sitting down across from him. You watch as he picks up the chopsticks, his movements slow, deliberate. He eats mechanically at first, more out of habit than hunger.

“This is good,” he says, his voice low, though you know it’s more a gesture of appreciation than a commentary on the food.

"Thank you," you respond quietly, watching him, your gaze full of unspoken questions. You wonder if today was particularly bad. Sometimes, he tells you. Other times, he doesn’t. But tonight, his silence feels heavy.

He catches your look and sighs, setting the chopsticks down after a few bites. “It’s just…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Some days, it’s like I’m pushing a boulder uphill. No matter how much I try, it doesn’t get easier.”

You nod, knowing better than to interrupt. His world—the dangerous, exhausting world of sorcery—was something you could never fully understand, but you knew its toll on him. Nanami rarely let anyone see him vulnerable, but here, in the dim light of your shared home, with the faint sound of the city outside, he allows himself to falter.

“Sometimes I wonder… if it’s even worth it,” he continues, his voice quieter now, almost as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “If all the fighting and the endless work, if any of it really changes anything.”

Your heart aches at the way he says it, as if the man sitting in front of you, who’s always been so sure of himself, is beginning to fray at the edges. You stand up from your seat and move to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His muscles are still tense beneath your touch, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Kento…” you murmur, using his first name, something you rarely do unless the moment calls for it. “It matters. It matters to me.”

He looks up at you then, his brown eyes searching yours, and you can see the conflict in him—the part of him that feels like a failure for even questioning his purpose, and the part that just desperately wants to believe you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the fragile honesty between you. "You come home every day, and that's enough. It’s more than enough.”

His hand reaches up to cover yours, warm and strong, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, and it surprises you. Nanami rarely apologizes—he never feels the need to. “I don’t mean to bring all of this home to you.”

You shake your head, squeezing his shoulder gently. “You’re not bringing anything here that doesn’t belong. This is your home, too. You can… fall apart if you need to. I’ll be here.”

Something in his expression softens, the weariness in his eyes giving way to something more vulnerable, more open. He stands up suddenly, pushing the chair back, and

before you can react, his arms are around you, pulling you into him as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. The hug is desperate, firm, and all-consuming, as though he's been waiting for this moment of relief all day. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, hear the low, rhythmic sound of his breathing. It’s deep, exhausted, but for the first time since he walked through the door, it feels a little lighter.

You let yourself relax into him, your arms sliding around his waist, holding him as tight as he holds you. There’s a quiet intimacy in the way you stand there, surrounded by the faint scent of soap and dinner lingering in the air. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore—just the warmth of his body pressed to yours, the solid feel of him reminding you both that he’s here, with you, safe.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice raw, full of a vulnerability that he rarely lets slip. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair with the same care he uses when facing down something dangerous—deliberate, careful, but strong.

You tilt your head up slightly to look at him, your gaze meeting his, and your heart aches at the sight of him. His usually composed face looks tired, his sharp jawline softened by the faint shadow of stubble. His eyes are heavy-lidded, dark circles painting the skin beneath them, but they’re full of something deep and unspoken. Gratitude. Love. A thousand things he doesn’t have the words for, but you can see it all in the way he’s looking at you now.

“You deserve everything, Kento,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but you know he hears you. You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over the rough stubble there. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as though he's savoring this small, simple act of affection like it's the only thing keeping him tethered.

For a long while, neither of you speak. You simply stand there, holding each other, letting the silence fill the space between you. It’s the kind of silence that doesn’t need to be broken because the comfort you find in each other’s presence speaks volumes. The weight of his day starts to lift, piece by piece, as he feels the warmth of your love wrapping around him.

After a few minutes, you gently pull back, though you keep your hands on his arms. “Let’s go sit down,” you suggest softly, and though you can see the reluctance in him to let you go, he nods, agreeing wordlessly. You lead him to the couch, and as you settle down, he follows, pulling you close to his side almost immediately. He sinks into the cushions, his arm draping over your shoulders as you curl into him, your head resting on his chest. His fingers idly play with the strands of your hair, the motions slow and methodical, as if it’s soothing for him as much as it is for you.

The soft glow from the living room lamp casts a warm, golden hue over the room, making the shadows seem less daunting. The sound of the city outside has faded into the background, leaving the two of you wrapped in the kind of quiet that only exists in moments like this—intimate, unhurried, peaceful.

“Sometimes…” Nanami begins, his voice low and rumbling beneath you, “I don’t know how you do it.”

You blink, turning your head slightly to look up at him. “Do what?”

“Handle all of this,” he says, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s still trying to understand it himself. “I come home like this—tired, worn out, barely holding myself together—and you’re just… here. Strong. Always knowing exactly what I need, even when I don’t.”

You give him a small, soft smile, your fingers trailing lightly over his chest. “I love you,” you say simply, as if that alone explains everything. And in a way, it does. "It’s not about knowing what you need all the time. It’s about being here with you, no matter what. I know you’re strong, Kento. But you don’t always have to be.”

His lips twitch into a half-smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, something that makes you realize just how much he’s been holding in. “It’s hard to let go of that,” he admits, his voice quieter now, as if he’s confessing something he hasn’t said out loud before. “I’ve spent so much of my life being strong for everyone else. It’s… strange to not have to do that here.”

You reach up, cupping his face in both hands, your thumbs brushing softly over his cheekbones. “You don’t have to be strong here,” you whisper, your voice firm but gentle. “You can just be… you. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, his expression shifts, and you see a flicker of something almost fragile pass through his eyes. He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips. “You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his voice rough, like he’s fighting to hold something back.

“It’s not easy,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But we can figure it out together.”

His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as though he never wants to let you go. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he breathes, the words heavy with sincerity. There’s something raw in the way he says it, a vulnerability that makes your heart squeeze.

You reach up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead before you press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s a tender, lingering kiss—one that doesn’t ask for anything more than this moment. When you pull back, you rest your hand against his cheek, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

“You won’t ever have to find out,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the emotion welling up in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Nanami exhales deeply, as though the weight of the world has been lifted just by hearing you say that. He leans back into the couch, pulling you with him, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together. His grip is firm, grounding, like he’s reminding himself that you’re real, that this is real.

For a long while, the two of you sit there in comfortable silence, your head resting on his chest as his hand strokes your hair. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you is steady, calming, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of peace that only comes when he’s with you.

“I love you,” he murmurs after a while, his voice soft but full of quiet conviction.

“I love you too,” you reply, your fingers tracing small circles on his chest.

And in that moment, with the world outside fading into insignificance, it’s enough. The weight of his exhaustion, the stress of his day, the endless battles he fights—they all melt away when he’s here, with you, in the quiet safety of your shared life. He doesn’t need to be anything but himself, and for the first time in a long while, you can feel him truly let go.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[musei-thoughts]

Nanami, my hunny ☺️💖

nanami mhm mhm yeah yes mhm mhm

[musei-thoughts]