#i just hope that at the end is a something worth it all

[emsdevs]

Luke Hughes requests reader is doing the TikTok trend where she ask Luke and Jack questions about her to see who knows her better but pretends that Jack get all the answers right and Luke gets them wrong and his reaction Jack also knows what the reader is up to please

Know Me Better

a/n: i had way way wayyy too much fun with this one! nonnie you're a genius!! sorry for the wait but i hope it was worth it!! fair warning this is mostly dialogue!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

It took you days to talk both boys into doing a TikTok with you. Jack was completely against it until you told him you planned to prank Luke, and then he was game. Luke was much easier to convince after you had Jack’s help.

About a week ago, you were doing your nightly TikTok scroll when you came across a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend. She had gotten him and his best friend to answer questions she was asking about herself. However, she was pretending that whatever the best friend said was right and her boyfriend was wrong. The best friend was obviously in on it, and it took the boyfriend way too long to catch on. As soon as the video ended, you knew you needed to try the video with Luke and Jack. 

Now, the two brothers sat at their kitchen table, you standing behind them with your list of questions at the ready. You prop your phone up and press record. 

“Okay, guys, so I have this list of questions about myself, and I’m gonna make my boyfriend and his brother,” you point at Luke and Jack respectively, “and by the end, we’ll see who knows me better. You guys ready?”

“So ready, babe.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” “Okay! First question is easy. What is my favorite color?”

“Oh! Easy it’s purple!” Luke is the first to answer.

“No bro it’s green,” Jack says smoothly.

“Jack got it right! Good job!”

“Babe, no. Your favorite color is purple. It’s always been purple,” Luke is confused, his brows furrowed.

“No, hun, I changed it a few weeks ago remember? We talked about it with Jack.”

“Whatever,” he gives up, not wanting to argue while doing something you were so excited for.

“Okay, next question! What is my favorite flower?” “Oh! Marigolds!” Jack jumps in first this time.

“Um, no. It’s lilies.”

“Actually, Lukey, Jack is right! How did you even know that?” “Heard you guys talking about it last week,” Jack shrugs, knowing that’s not what he heard you say your favorite flower was.

“You mean when I got her lilies, and she was so happy because lilies are her favorites? So she told me that lilies were her favorites ten times?” Luke was beginning to get frustrated, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He knows for a fact that lilies are your favorite flowers, so he doesn’t know where Jack is pulling his information from or why you’re agreeing with everything Jack says. Then again, what if Jack is right? Is Luke a bad boyfriend?

“Anyway! Next! What color were my nails two weeks ago?”

“Light blue!” Jack speaks up again. He had no idea what color your nails were. He was guessing random stuff at this point.

“They were dark red, kinda a maroon color, and your ring fingers had a tiny white heart on them,” Luke knows there’s no way he was getting this one wrong. He had gone to your nail appointment with you, content to sit and mess around on his phone while you got your nails done. 

“Wow, Luke, that’s impressive detail, but Jack was right.”

“What?” he was borderline shouting, not really angry, just offended. He knew he was right, but what if he wasn’t? Either way, how was Jack getting every question right? “Babe, I know for a fact that’s what you got. I bought them. At the salon. I was there. I paid. Right in front of you.”

“No, baby, that was the set before the blue ones,” you force yourself to ignore the pout that now sits on your boyfriend’s face, “Okay, next up! What’s my go-to karaoke song?”

“Oh! It’s ‘Black’ by Dierks Bentley!”

“No, dude. It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ from that one Meryl Streep movie,” Jack had seen you sing that song once at karaoke, and it was after you sang “Black.”

“Oh, my god! Jack got it right, again!”

“No, babe. We sing ‘Black’ together,” Luke was giving you puppy dog eyes now, and you’re not sure how long you can keep this up.

Jack steps in to save you from answering again, “Yeah, bro, but she said her go-to karaoke song. That one is for both of you.”

“Whatever. How many more questions are there?” His pout is intensifying, and you can tell if you keep this up much longer, he’ll walk out. You decide to make the next question a little more obvious, something only Luke would know.

“Okay, Lukey, you should get this one. What did I eat on our first date?”

“Chicken alfredo,” Luke answers without even having to think about it. He remembers every detail of that night. 

“Nah, she had a plate of shrimp.” You don’t eat shrimp. Jack knows this. Luke knows this. That’s when it all sets in for Luke.

“Are you two kidding me?” he shrieks standing up, giggles coming out of his open mouth. “You’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

“Yes, Lukey,” you’re cracking up. You can’t help it, “You got every question right.”

“I knew it! You two had me freaking out thinking I was a bad boyfriend or something!”

“Sorry, man. She put me up to it,” Jack could barely talk through his laughter, but he still managed to throw you under the bus.

“Jerk!” Jack continued laughing as he walked away. You stopped the video, laughter still taking over you and Luke, “I’m sorry. I saw a video like that and thought it would be funny,” you smile at your boyfriend sheepishly.

“Yeah, real funny,” he rolls his eyes before grabbing your waist and throwing you over his shoulder.

You’re overcome with giggles yet again, “Where are you taking me?”

“To bed! We’re watching Secretariat, so you can make this up to me! And your hand better be in my hair the whole time!”

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[izvmimi]

cw: platonic!sanji x reader, luffy x reader. fluff. food mentioned.

“Sanji, can I ask you a silly question?’

Sanji’s hands a flurry of motion - it’s an entire spectacle and a half to watch him cook, even when he’s not meant to have an audience. And you’re not an audience still, rather you’re just an aide and also have your own separate task, mixing a concoction of a homemade electrolyte solution that you’ll ensure the more banged up members of the crew will drink - namely Luffy and Zoro given your most recent escapades - in addition to Sanji’s heavenly cooking.

He does hear you over the sizzle of onions and garlic, even if he doesn’t do more than shoot you a glance, the very end of a cigarette between his lips.

“Shoot,” he offers, with a flip of the pan. His other hand is now in his pocket, and it almost upsets you that he manages to look cool while making a hearty porridge. Everything about him is cool.

All the Straw Hat Pirates are cool perhaps, even if you might be the newest and least so.

Your eyes focus on the browning food in the pan before you look towards Sanji, your cheeks warming a moment as you consider what you’re about to say. You hope he doesn’t misunderstand, but it’s something that’s crossed your mind since a month after you joined the group.

Sanji doesn’t flirt with you anymore.

He’s gentlemanly, he’s polite, he is just as gracious to you as he is with Robin and Nami, but the kindness he affords you is not romantic in the same way, and it’s occurred to you more than once, that even if things may have been different within the first couple of weeks of you joining the Thousand Sunny, he would have absolutely accepted any if not all of your romantic attention, you’re almost certain that if you tried to flirt with him now, it would have the sexual appeal of an elderly woman calling her grandson a handsome young man.

“Am I…” you pause, and this gets Sanji to look in your direction with a polite interest. His eyebrows raise, and you’re sheepish even saying it out loud, but you push through anyway.

“Unattractive?”

Sanji freezes for a moment, turns about face, and practically does a spit-take in his laughter. Then looking back at you, realizing you’re not joking at all, but rather have turned stiff with a stony downcast expression.

“Oh shit, you’re serious.”

Your face nearly burns as hot as the stovetop.

“You know what, fucking forget it.” You turn to storm off, but Sanji calls after you.

“What on earth would make you think that?” he asks.

There’s no way to explain to a notorious skirt-chaser that his diminished interest in chasing your particular skirt concerns you, particularly when you are neither craving of this particular attention really, nor interested in him in that way. But rather, you wonder if it portends some … suboptimal quality in you, something that makes it such that the true object of your affections will similarly lose interest… if they develop any in the first place.

You wonder if you should bother responding at all, but insist on ignoring your misgivings. The power of this crew is its ability to trust, whether the issue is big or small.

“Okay, well you treat me differently from Robin and Nami.”

Sanji pauses for a moment and blinks. His head tilts for a moment, and you find yourself looking away, gritting your teeth. How embarrassing.

“Well, you are different.” Sanji replies simply.

Lead sinks into your belly. You shouldn’t have asked.

“Right.”

Your throat suddenly dry, you go ahead and grab your pitcher of electrolyte solution and pour out glasses for the crew, considering that maybe you should down it instead.

It’s the equivalent of making a pass at him, but that’s not it, is it?

Sanji somehow manages to pick up on it too.

“Maybe you aren’t that different from them, a flower of your own unique sort just like Nami and Robin-”

“You don’t have to-”

Sanji laughs.

“Well, Luffy thinks that you’re different.”

You pause for a moment, then pivot. 

“So Luffy is the one who’s convinced you I’m not worth flirting with?” It’s meant as a joke but Sanji stuns you with his next words.

“No, rather, I suspect Luffy wants you all to himself.”

To that, your heart skips a beat, and Sanji clearly catches it, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“He won’t say it, probably hasn’t realized it yet, but I can tell. And of course, realistically it doesn’t stop me from appreciating you.” The statement is accented with a chuckle. “But I’m just trying to be considerate.”

Your mouth opens then closes, then you quickly change the subject.

“The food’s burning.”

Sanji doesn’t even turn to look.

“Fat chance.”

Sanji doesn’t mess up meals. You stick your tongue out at him instead, gather up your pitcher and leave the room, and he starts to whistle, as he finishes the rest of the meal and you contend with your own confusing feelings.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Do you know the trend where if you have a significant other in the military you say they can’t come into your house but amendment 2 or 3 which say “ no quartering of soldiers without consent”

That with cyclone or Bob

All Shook Up - Bob x Reader

Word Count: 1.0k

Summary: After seeing a trend where military spouses tell their loved ones they aren't allowed inside under the 3rd Amendment, you decide to play a prank on your sweet, returning husband Bob—that is until you get the words out, and he reacts in the only way Bob knows how.

Warnings: fluff, domesticity, husband! Bob, very mild accidental hurt/comfort.

Authors Note: This idea is so funny to me! I'm already working on Beau's version, and I'll definitely be posting that soon.

Read on AO3

The sun had just begun setting when you put your plan into motion. Grinning to yourself as you set dinner to cook in the oven, you check out the kitchen window for any sign of Bob's car. Your husband had been away on a training exercise all week and had just called you thirty minutes ago stating he was close to home.

Minutes later as you spare the driveway another glance, you see Bob climb out of his car, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. You couldn't mask your almost childish excitement as you left the kitchen and trod over to the door. Even after the years you'd been together you never got over just how handsome he was. But today you had other things in mind.

You hear the soft thud of his boots on the porch followed by the jingle of his keys before the door opens.

"Honey I'm home," Bob calls out just as you appear.

His brow furrows when you don't answer, instead just standing and watching him without an ounce of your expected warmth.

"Honey?" He tries again, "Is everything all right?"

You let another long second pass, his brows furrowing, before you answer.

"Oh, yeah," you say casually, "you just can't stay here."

Bob's eyes instantly widen behind his glasses. His gentle gaze fills with a look that is somewhere between confusion and heartbreak.

"I..What?" He questions.

You clear your throat, initial plan shattering but doing your best to follow through with your prank in light of his expression, knowing it'll be easier to explain in the end when you're both—hopefully—laughing. 

"It is my right as an American citizen to exercise whatever rights I have the liberty of holding--including the third amendment of the United States Constitution, no quartering of soldiers and related military personnel without consent," You say, still standing in the entryway opposite Bob and the half open door.

Bob blinks, expression leaning more towards the confused end of things. For a second it looks like he's about to say something, only to remain silent. He glances at his hand still holding the doorknob, then over his shoulder outside before slowly— slowly —backing out and closing the door all without a word.

You let the silence hang for a second before you yourself grow confused. You had expected him to laugh or maybe fight back, or...really anything except actually leave . Yet as you're left standing there, your first instinct is to chase after him.

Crossing the distance and pulling the door open, you see him about to get back in his car.

"Bob!" you call out, earning a hurtfully hopeful glance back over his shoulder from the man, "I'm just messing with you!" you continue.

Bob's gaze drops and a brief flash of regret goes through you. He looks genuinely bewildered, as if he's going back through and cataloging months and years' worth of interactions to figure out where all this was coming from.

With a sigh you close the door behind you and step off the porch, padding softly down the steps until you're close enough to wrap your arm around the waist of your hopelessly sweet husband.

"I promise, It's just a prank, Bob," you reassure his worrying mind, "I thought it'd be funny, not that you'd just…”

You trail off, gesturing vaguely at everything as a brief flash of knowing crosses his eyes.

"Oh," he says after a long pause, brows still furrowed but tone far less tense, "I was so confused."

He returns your embrace, setting his bag on the ground and slinging an arm gently around you.

"I thought maybe something happened I didn't know about."

You can’t help but let out a soft laugh as you look up at him.

"You thought I'd kick you out over something you didn't even know?” You ask incredulously.

"Maybe If I forgot an anniversary or didn't text you goodnight–" He stammers, raising his free hand to rub the back of his neck, "I don't know what you think is worthy of invoking the constitution over, but it felt serious."

By now a soft blush has risen onto his cheeks and you can't help but place a kiss there, his flushed skin warmed under your gentle touch.

"You are too sweet for your own good, honey," you muse with a laugh, "You thought this was it? Really?"

"Well, I...It sounded serious!" He defends again with a bashful smile.

You can't help but laugh again, looking up at him in near warm-hearted wonder.

"You're always welcome to quarter here, or anywhere else I stay, for that matter."

Bob lets out a breath of relief, whatever tension was still held in his body leaving as your words provide the last bit of reassurance he needs.

"I...really didn't want to sleep in the car.”

You pat his back with a laugh and guide him up the steps and back inside before closing the door behind you both.

"Welcome home honey," you try again, a hint of joking still in your tone, "A place you'll always have a bed."

"Good to know," he chuckles softly, "Please, don't scare me like that again."

"I promise," You smile, pulling him in for a proper kiss this time, "I'll make it up to you."

"Yes please," he sighs, only to be distracted by the smell of roasting chicken coming from the kitchen.

"You...made dinner?" He asks gently, always so surprised by the little things even when they're a part of your daily routine.

"Of course I did. Can't have you going hungry, now, can we?"

Bob blinks then nods faintly in agreement.

"Good, go get changed while I finish up down here."

At that Bob practically melts in your arms like he does every time he comes home, never more relaxed than he is in your presence—even if it's your attempt at a prank that shakes him up to begin with.

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[invinciblerodent]

I just got slapped in the face with a note on this old, old post, so I'm bringing it back, because I'm close to climbing up the curtains about it.

He went back. Left his lover and all his personal desires behind. Followed protocol. Acted with principle. Alright. What did it accomplish?

He freed all the slaves he personally could immediately, and beyond helping those select few, on the grand scheme of things, it just generated some mild controversy, branded him an eccentric.

The Lucerni, the fledgling group for which he left all he wanted behind (in hindsight, perhaps with a bit too much optimism) was formed, and then it failed- so spectacularly that it directly-indirectly cost Mae her position in the Magisterium, and forced the group to transition their operations into a secret, underground organization. By now, their slogan, "Bring the Light", is pretty much the only thing that remains of its roots.

He spoke on the Magisterium floor clearly, openly, with passion, on record, multiple times, and each time, he seems to have hit brick wall after brick wall- they shut their eyes and plugged their ears, because the scissors with which the disapproving passages of the very law that instated slavery were cut out were large and gilded, and he couldn't even endorse the Shadow Dragons' work openly, because (even though they covertly had the support of the Divine, as well as many of the people) his name served their goals better while it remained free of the associations with them.

And those eight years of his life, the ones given to campaigning, and petitioning, politicking, and screaming his voice raw, were paid for in late nights, grey hairs, blood, and baby steps forward.

For all the performative grousing about wrangling the Imperium into submission and yanking it into the present he did in Trespasser, for all the trying, the urging, the demanding he must have done in the long years in-between, I'm sure it was a process that was slow-moving and beyond frustrating- especially keeping in mind what he had to leave behind, of which I'm sure he was always keenly aware.

Of how they both knew that leaving was a sacrifice, but staying would have been as good as treason.

Every time I think about what might happen in (and to) Tevinter now, I can't help but recall what Dorian says in his proposal to Rook about becoming Archon (something he never actually wanted for its own sake), how passionate he is to finally stop talking and start acting, and how the elation quickly fades into anxiety if Rook agrees with him, and (finally, finally, finally) puts the power to act into his hands.

For the naked disdain he once showed in talking about how the good and great families of Tevinter noblesse "breed" their children in hopes that one of them will go on to become Archon, and how adamant he was in Inquisition's early parts about never desiring the lies, the scheming, the political machinations, that kind of dirty power for himself... this ending, it feels appropriate.

Fucking Vivat, Archon Pavus, I know you'll do great things.

..... Try not to dwell on whether it was all worth it.

It honestly breaks my heart to think about how happy Dorian must’ve been to return South, and just how violently that joy was ripped from him, by just one letter.

How it must’ve felt like coming home, how excited he must’ve been to see the man he loves again (after all, “letters are a poor substitute for your company”), and then, just like that… the promise of a moment of peace and quiet, of rest, is torn right from his hands. The responsibility he didn’t even know he still had is thrust upon him, without warning.

Suddenly the man he once respected more than anyone else is dead, suddenly he’s no longer just Dorian but Magister Pavus, and he knows he has to go.

He has a platform now, to make his voice heard. People are finally going to have no choice but to listen. All he has to do is to leave all that his heart wants, behind.

Even though there is nothing he would want more than to stay, he has to go. He has to abandon the silly, juvenile fantasies of disgustingly romantic domesticity, about the house on the hill and the smiling townsfolk and the soft clink of wedding bands when they take each other’s hands, and trade them all in for artifice, and treachery, and screaming into ears that might as well be deaf until his throat is raw.

And I’m so proud of him.

It must’ve taken so much resolve, so much courage, and so much fucking integrity to still go, even though giving in to the Temptation, ducking his head under the blanket, and hiding in blessed complacency would have been so much easier. Sacrificing just a little kernel of his self-respect could have bought him a lifetime of peace and quiet and unconditional love, but he still leaves, and he still goes on to change the world for the better.

Because someone has to, and it has to be him.

Someone else might get it wrong.

[youngirlfrom]

THE WICKED DIE ALONE

ɞ Someone like Y/N Kent has to find her true self, not just with the strength of a hero, but by walking the fine line between the light and darkness within. Because at the end of the day the wicked die alone. And for Y/N to die alone means all of humanity dies with her.

| Richard Grayson x Fem!Reader | chapter 3

Warnings: bl!!d, k!lling, mental health, slightly jason todd x reader, smut, english is not my first language.

Chapter 3 | chapter 2 , chapter 1

The bright lights of Metropolis disappeared behind her shrinking one by one. While the whole city was asleep, a storm was raging inside Y/N. The effect of this dream echoing in her chest would not dissipate.

Seeing Dick's dream… Witnessing his greatest pain, his darkest moment, even if unintentionally…

This was a limit she could not cross. It gave her a great conflict within herself: She wanted to tell him everything, share his burden, but at the same time she knew that she was violating Dick's privacy. She couldn't forgive herself for this.

Y/N had never told anyone about her dreams except her family. How could he say that anyway? How could she tell Damian that she saw his most private moments when he was just starting to respect her?

The clouds hanging over the city skyline were gloomy, befitting the Blüdhaven atmosphere. Blüdhaven was not as gloomy as Gotham, but it still contained a loneliness in the shadows of the seedy streets of the city.

Dick always say this city was worth fighting for. According to him, the city held hope because people were essentially good inside them. Bad men, especially corrupt police, were destroying this city.

Even at this time of night, Y/N was sure Dick would be on patrol. He was always working. He was giving his whole self for the city, for the people.

When she arrived at Blüdhaven, she immediately noticed a figure moving in the shadows. His eyes and movements were familiar. It was a fast, agile and deadly dance as always. But Y/N had known him for a very long time. There was fatigue behind these movements.

Instead of going directly there, she first hovered over the city for a bit. Maybe she should have given up.

But she couldn't.

When Dick stood on the roof of a tall building and started watching something carefully, Y/N slowly descended to the roof.

Y/N said with a slight smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at those broad shoulders of Dick. "You look tired, Grayson."

Dick "Fuck!" he shouted loudly and reflexively quickly took out his escrima sticks. But when he looked at the owner of the voice, the expression on his face was mixed with surprise and concern. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"

Y/N paused for a moment before answering. She averted her eyes and bit her lips. Dick knew immediately that something was wrong, so he tried to warm things up as he took a few steps closer to her. "Are you tired of patrolling Metropolis?"

Y/N smiled slightly, but there was still a shadow in her eyes. "I needed to take a breather," she said, sounding more tired than usual.

Studying her face, Dick wondered if she ever slept. The under eyes had become more prominent. "Are you just here to breathe, or did something else happen?"

Y/N stole a glance. "I thought I could help lower Blüdhaven's crime rate a little."

Dick tilted his head. "You know me, Y/N. I can tell when you're hiding something." Y/N hated how good he was at reading people.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling how the wind cooled the night. For a moment she wanted to tell everything. Dick's past, that terrible night she dreamed of, the pain he experienced as a child… But she couldn't do it. Because if she told, it might shake Dick's trust in her. It was as if she had witnessed his most intimate moments and deepest pain.

"It's no big deal," she said finally.

Dick gently held her chin and made her look at him. "I know something happened." He whispered. "Tell me."

That voice… Should Y/N melt into that soft touch or his voice? It was already hard not to throw herself into his arms.

Y/N looked away. "It's quieter here. Sometimes… it's easier to be alone."

Dick continued to look at her face. "But you don't want to be alone, do you?"

Y/N paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and spoke. "Sometimes you don't realize how the past catches up with you, right? You have a dream or a moment comes and everything piles up on you."

Dick remained silent but then ask. "Did you dream? Was it like some kind of nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Dick noticed how difficult she was talking. He decided that this was not something that could be handled on the roof and he gripped her waist tightly.

Y/N jumped from the sudden contact. "What are you doing?" Before she could say it, she was interrupted by Dick jumping off the roof.

"I'm taking you home."

"You know I can fly, right?" She asked and didn't bother suppressing her laughter when Dick leapt into another building with her.

"You can't deny that you didn't enjoy this." Said Dick as he matched her laughter. "Besides, you don't know where I live."

Instead of paying attention to what he was saying, Y/N was too busy having fun with Dick taking her from rooftop to rooftop. It was like flying on his father's back when he was little.

And soon the dick stopped in front of an apartment. Y/N had wished the little excursion had lasted a little longer but she didn't comment. "Do you live here?"

Dick nodded before encouraging her to walk ahead. "After you, ma'am."

Y/N felt her heart warming at Dick's efforts to comfort her and walked through the door he opened. When she entered, she was greeted with dim lights and deep silence. Dick's house was worse than she thought.

The air in the house was heavy, as if he had been trapped in loneliness for years. The dim light surrounded the room like a ghost; The middle of the hall was collapsed, sheets were scattered everywhere, there were a few old photographs hanging on the walls, coffee mugs thrown in a corner and scattered documents. Dick was using the place not as a home, but as a shelter.

"Do you live here?" she asked, shocked.

Dick sheepishly put his hand behind his neck. "I know it's a bit messy."

He laughed when he saw Y/N continuing to look at him in shock. "What is that face?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "This is more than a little messy. Does a ghost live here or is it Dick Grayson?"

Dick smiled. "I spend my nights chasing criminals on the street, keeping the house in order is not really my priority."

Y/N rolled her eyes again and snapped her fingers. Purple energy swirled in the air like a whirlpool, and the items began to gather themselves together. The sofa was straightened, the coffee mugs floated into the kitchen, the mess on the floor settled into place. In a few seconds, the room was completely transformed.

Dick watched, fascinated. "Thats amazing."

Y/N glared at him. "Seriously, you could try harder."

"Please forgive me, ma'am, I will make this place spotless until your next visit." he said, leaning down. Looks like he was on his showmanship personality tonight.

Just as she was about to sit on the sofa, a dog barking echoed in the house.

"My god!" Y/N shouted and ran towards the dog. "You had a dog?"

"It's only been a week. I saved her from the thugs on the street. I call her Haley, but she probably won't stay here."

Y/N looked at him mockingly. "We both know that this is her home now." she said, sitting on the sofa with the little dog on her lap. Dick got up to change, leaving the two of them on the couch.

Haley closed her eyes after smelling Y/N's hand. She made a slight growling sound, a sign of comfort and trust. Y/N felt her heart soften for a moment. It felt oddly warming for Dick to have someone greet him like that when he came home. She didn't want him to live alone in this empty place.

She sighed as she continued to pet the little dog. "Man I miss Krypto."

When Dick returned a few minutes later after changing his clothes, he smiled slightly when he saw Y/N with the dog. "I think you're more attached to her than I am."

"I love animals." she said and smiled as if she had just thought of it. "Did you know Damian adopted another dog?"

Dick frowned in horror. "How many animals does he have?"

Y/N shrugged. "I stopped counting after those two cows." When she said that, they both laughed.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Do you have coffee?"

"If you think I'm going to make you drink coffee, you're wrong. You look like the Corpse Bride with those eyes." When he said Haley barked as if to confirm him.

"I haven't been able to sleep lately." she muttered as she settled further into the couch. After pouring water for the tea, Dick sat down next to her on the sofa.

"Are you having a nightmare?" he asked to understand her.

"Stuff like that." When she said that, they both fell silent. Y/N looked at Dick as she hugged the tiny being in her arms. She tried not to get flustered while those deep blue eyes were watching her from the beginning. She felt somehow at peace when she was around him. At that moment, she remembered why she had come here from Metropolis.

One of Dick's fingers, roaming Haley's torso, made contact with Y/N's hand. "Is it your dreams that brought you here?"

Y/N nodded. She felt like a little child. She moved his pinky finger towards Dick's pinky finger. "My dreams are not my own." she muttered.

The way Dick looked at her encouraged her, so she continued. She had come this far, whatever was going to happen, happened. "I can see other people's worst nightmares. Or someone's death."

Dick's expression changed as he tried to fully digest the words. The surprise on his face was replaced by deep thought. His ocean blue eyes were locked on Y/N's face; He was analyzing, trying to understand.

This was something he didn't know. He had heard a lot about Y/N's abilities. She could keep a collapsed building standing. By surrounding her body with a wave of energy, she could block all bullets. But this… this was something completely different.

"Other people's nightmares?" he repeated, his voice low and careful.

Y/N pressed her lips together, suddenly realizing that talking about this topic she had brought up was harder than she expected. Having Dick look at her so intently made her feel a little more vulnerable.

"Yes," She murmured. "It's not just dreams. Past… Future… I don't even know how it works. It just happens."

A muscle moved in Dick's face. “That's why you're here.”

Y/N looked away. She sighed as she ran her fingers through Haley's soft fur. "Yes," she said at last. "Tonight… I saw you."

Dick's body tensed involuntarily. Even at that moment, he was trying to control his reaction, but Y/N knew him enough to notice.

"Me?"

Y/N nodded. "When you were a child… That night."

Dick's pupils narrowed. That night. When that night was mentioned, everyone knew which night they were talking about. In a public arena, in the middle of Gotham's most famous circus, the night that changed Dick Grayson's life forever…

When Y/N saw that he wasn't saying anything, she continued. "I don't know if I should tell you this. I just…wanted you to know that. Because I care about you."

Dick's eyes were fixed on her, but the storm inside his was clearly evident. The first Robin, who grew up alongside Batman years ago, became one of the strongest heroes, but some wounds never healed.

There was silence for a while. Y/N waited for him to say anything, but Dick just turned his face away. He remained completely silent for a few seconds, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Y/N sighed, "If you don't want to talk about it—"

"What kind of dream was it?"

Dick's voice was softer than she expected. When Y/N looked at him, she could see that Dick was still reliving that night in his mind. So she couldn't lie to him.

"There was blood," she said slowly. "Voices… The screams of the crowd… But I remember you the most."

Dick's jaw tightened but he said nothing.

"You were standing in the middle of the stage," Y/N continued, her voice trailing off. "Your legs were shaking, your eyes were fixed on the lifeless bodies of your mother and father. And then, a voice…"

Dick tilted his head slightly, as if reliving that moment in his head.

"When I saw that…I understood you," Y/N sighed. "Why you are who you are… Why you fight for Blüdhaven, every night, every time."

Dick didn't speak for a long time. Y/N realized that he didn't know how to process this. Maybe it was too much. Maybe she should never have told him.

Dick turned to her. "That's why you looked sad," He said with a slight smile. "For me."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm sorry for you, Grayson. You are my…"

Her sentence hung in the air. Y/N didn't know what to say. Dick tilted his head as if he understood what she was trying to say.

But then Dick bowed his head and laughed quietly.

"What?" Y/N asked in surprise.

Dick shook his head. "For you to feel guilty about something like that… It's just like your thing."

The familiar smile on Dick's face was back, but this time there was sadness in it. He stared at her for a few seconds, then pulled Y/N close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

As Y/N felt the warmth of Dick's shoulder, she realized that the storm inside her was slowly calming down. She had finally shared this secret that she had kept inside her for so long, and what she feared had not happened. Dick didn't shut her out, didn't get angry, didn't even run away. Instead, he accepted her existence and chose to get closer to her.

As the silence dragged on, even Haley continued to sleep silently in Y/N's lap, as if realizing the sacredness of this moment. Y/N could feel Dick's breath on his shoulder, steady and calm.

"What kind of talent is this?" murmured Dick at last. "How do you deal with this?"

Y/N smiled, but she had a bitter feeling. "I can't handle it," She admitted. "Seeing people's deepest fears, losses, pain… Feeling like I have experienced them… Sometimes I even forget who I am."

Dick lifted his head a little and looked at her. His ocean blue eyes were shining with concern. "So you didn't share this with anyone?"

Y/N shook her head. "Except for my family… No. Mom and dad know that I sometimes have nightmares, but they don't know the details. "I couldn't tell Jon because I didn't want to scare him."

Dick bowed his head slightly. "And you told me."

Y/N looked at his face. "Yes."

Dick bit his lips to keep from smiling, but eventually gave up. "This made me feel special."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Don't make this a joke, Grayson."

Dick laughed, his voice echoing around the room like a soft melody. But there was something else behind his smile; that slight resentment that he always tries to hide, but never disappears from his eyes…

"I'm serious," he said. "Thank you for telling me this."

Y/N looked at him sideways. "Didn't you find me strange?"

Dick shrugged. "I already knew you are weird. This just added another item to the list." They laughed when he said. As the night slowly passed away, Y/N could feel her eyes closing.

Dick's smile softened a bit when he noticed Y/N's eyelids starting to feel heavy. Watching her fall asleep next to him like that, feeling so comfortable… it felt strangely warm inside.

Haley was curled up further in Y/N's lap, breathing peacefully. Y/N looked at Dick one last time before closing her eyes completely. Her eyes were tired, but there was a little peace in them.

"You can sleep," Dick said in a low voice. "You are safe here."

Y/N opened her lips to respond, but her eyes closed before the words came out. Dick watched her face for a moment. This girl, who was normally used to standing strong, was now completely defenseless and peaceful.

Dick slowly pulled the blanket from the edge of the couch and placed it over Y/N. He smiled when Haley stirred and gently brushed her tail over her little hand.

He didn't want to ruin this moment. But in the back of his mind, what Y/N had told him continued to echo.

"I can see other people's worst nightmares. Or someone's death."

This sentence stirred something inside Dick. Y/N's powers were even heavier than he expected. Witnessing people's darkest moments, feeling their pain… How could she handle this?

He couldn't wait to ask this, but not tonight. Tonight, for the first time, Y/N seemed to feel safe.

Dick slowly sat up, moving a little closer to the couch, careful not to wake Y/N. Her face was peaceful, but her pretty eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if she was still thinking about something even in her dreams.

Dick lowered his head and whispered in a low voice:

"What else have you seen, beautiful?"

Y/N stirred slightly but didn't wake up. Dick sighed and ran his fingers through her hair. No matter what, he wouldn't pressure her. She had to tell him this when she wanted to.

Just the fact that she fell asleep like that was a sign of trust in itself, right?

No matter how hard Dick resisted, fatigue eventually caught up with him. He leaned his head back against the back of the sofa, closed his eyes, and tried to quiet his mind for a moment. Y/N's steady breathing sounded like a lullaby to his ears along with the silence of the night.

There were no more patrols tonight. Tonight Blüdhaven could wait for them, for her.

Tonight Dick Grayson was more at peace than ever.

It was one of the best chapters I've ever written. I told you guys it would be worth the wait.

I love you all, see you next chapter 🩵🩵🩵

[evamame]

could you perhaps do something with boyfriend Argentina Tooru Oikawa and reader? can you make it where reader is in university as well? thanks!

yess i can. i kinda got lost in thought writing this so this is what my brain came up with ig. hope you like it nonetheless!!

making up for lost time with oikawa tooru

synopsis: on a small romantic date with oikawa tooru, a rare occasion where you can relax and make up lost time together due to both of your busy schedules.

cw: sfw, fluff, post time skip!oikawa x university!reader, fem!reader, you’re a busy uni student, pet names, established relationship

word count: 1,495

masterlist

you’re sitting on your bed in your dorm, scrolling on your phone as you wait for oikawa to arrive. just then, you hear a knock on the door.

you open it to see oikawa in front of you, grinning lovingly with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “hello beautiful,” he says in greeting before placing a kiss to your cheek. you step to the side to let him in, and he closes the door behind him as he enters.

you take the bouquet from him, your hands brushing against each other. you pull it close to your chest, inhaling the flowery scent you always adore. “thank you, these are gorgeous,” you say as you look at him with a soft smile on your face, and he gives you one of his own in return.

“you’re welcome baby. you ready?”

“i’m ready. give me a second,” you reply, taking a few steps over to your bedside table on the other side of your incredibly small dorm room. you grab the scissors on your desk and snip the ribbon holding the stems together, then put the flowers in an empty vase already filled with water.

you grab your bag hooked onto your bed frame, then go back to oikawa’s side, holding out your hand for him to take, “let’s go.”

he gladly takes your hand into his, intertwining your fingers with a gentle but firm grip. he opens the door and leads you down the hall and out of your dorm complex.

it isn’t often that you two have time to go out on a small date like this. ever since you two came to argentina for him to play volleyball professionally, his schedule is jam packed with training. he’s in the gym almost every single day from morning to evening. and as for you, you’re handling the responsibilities of a typical university student. taking classes during the day, and then going home to spend hours on homework and assignments.

you try your best to find a middle ground, but it doesn’t work a lot of the times. you’re always grateful to have more than a few hours to spend with him. the busy schedule wasn’t something either of you wanted, but eventually it happened and there isn’t much either of you can do. but you’re both chasing your dreams, so it’ll all be worth it in the end.

you walk through campus, looking around at the scenery and listening to oikawa ramble about his practices and anything else that’s been going on in his life since you two last got to meet in person. you two aren’t able to avoid stares, though, since oikawa’s face has been plastered on headlines since the team started tournament season once again.

as he finishes his long speech, he turns to you, “how about you? how’s university going?”

“it’s good. the same classes as usual, and the same load of homework.”

he nods understandingly, a soft smile and a loving look in his eyes as he listens to you speak, “i expected you to say that.” as you continue walking, his thumb runs mindlessly over your knuckles.

you eventually reach your destination, a small, locally owned argentinian style coffee shop on the outskirts of campus. oikawa rushes in front of you to open the door for you, letting you go in before following behind you. you both place your orders at the counter, not without oikawa and you getting a surprised look of recognition from the barista, before taking a seat in the corner.

he places his hand on top of yours on the table, a lovey grin plastered across his face. “what’s the grin for?” you question.

“nothing. i’m just really happy to see you again.”

you smile, a light flush of pink forming on your cheeks, “me too. it’s been so long. i wish our schedules would work at least a little bit better.”

he nods in agreement, “yeah, it really sucks. as much as i love volleyball, i am a bit excited for it to be over so i can spend more time with you.”

“after i graduate i’ll finally be free from writing papers until midnight. and then i’ll have a more flexible schedule.”

a knowing smile forms on his lips, “yeah, that would be nice.”

the order number for your food and drinks are called, and oikawa pushes his chair back with a small scrape to stand up. he walks up to the pick up end of the counter, taking the tray to the table. he places your drink and pastry down for you, before helping himself.

you take a sip of your beverage as oikawa takes a bite of his cake, and his eyes widen instantly as he takes in the flavor. he quickly takes another spoonful and puts it infront of your mouth, “try this. it’s really good.”

you scoff in amusement at his attempt to feed you, “you’re such a cheesy romantic. i can feed myself, you know.”

he grins playfully, “my cheesy romance is how i show my love. just try it.”

you try the cake, and your eyes widen just like his did as you swallow, “it is really good.” you then offer him a bite of your pastry, and as he tries yours with a pleased reaction you give each other knowing looks.

“trade?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“yes,” you say as you two slide your plates across the table to each other.

after chatting for a long while, you’ve both finished your food and drinks. oikawa places your empty dishes on the tray and carries them to the drop them off at the end of the counter. as he returns, you stand up and hook your bag on your shoulder, then leave the café with him.

he holds the door for you again as you exit, and then rushes to catch up with you. he laces your fingers together, and you two look around at the scenery. the streets in argentina are bright and lively, a change from the view back home. the culture is a bit different, but you’ve both gotten used to the new lifestyle by now.

you two make your way back to your dorm room, exchanging easy conversation. talking with oikawa is second nature. it’s not something you’ve ever had to put any thought into, although that’s expected with his extroverted and flirty nature.

you two walk up the stairwell in your dormitory when oikawa lets out a tired remark, “why are there so many stairs? you couldn’t have picked a room on a lower level?” his voice feigns dramatic exhaustion as he speaks.

you scoff, “there are only three levels, for one. and for two, i thought you were a world famous athlete.”

“that’s not important,” he replies with a tired pant, smiling playfully.

you reach your floor, and take out your keys to unlock the front door of your dorm room with a click. the door peers wide open and you sling your bag over your bed frame before taking off your shoes. oikawa follows suit, quickly taking off his own shoes and flopping onto your bed on his back with a sigh.

“make your self at home, i guess,” you say with a jokingly annoyed sigh.

a small smile tugs at his lips, ignoring the teasing tone in your words, “thanks. i will. your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.” he takes one of your throw pillows, propping it under his head.

you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with an amused smile, “what are you so tired for?”

“nothing. i just feel relaxed.”

“relaxed?”

he nods, “yeah. we never get to have alone time like this. it’s calming.”

you frown a little at his comment. it’s true, how overbearing your schedules are. you wish this type of intimate time was something the two of you could enjoy more often.

you decide not to dwell on it though, replying with a soft smile, “that’s true. let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”

and with that, oikawa scoots to lay on one side of the bed, patting the space next to him. you move to rest next to him, and he quickly wraps his arms around you to pull you against his chest. he envelopes you from behind in a warm embrace, his face buried into your shoulder. he tilts his head to breathe in the scent of your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips. the familiar smell of his cologne and shampoo fills your senses and brings a feeling of serenity.

“would i be right to guess you’re going to spend the night again?”

“can i?” he questions, and you can feel him smiling against your neck as his breath tickles your skin.

“of course you can. i said we should make the most of our time, didn’t i?”

“then i’ll be here by your side as long as i can.”

like what you read and want to read more? here’s my taglist

tags: @scoupsworld

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[narilily]

I hope so! I always love when the year starts off with me getting to wear something fancy, you know? And if it ends that way, too, then we'll really have come full circle. I'm not surprised just because I know you and I know how much work you put into them, but for what it's worth, no one ever would have known that. Thank you! I felt like a princess all night!

Right, we're like the fairy godmothers of all the other sexy and powerful babes. It's gonna be a fabulously fashionable year from beginning to end. I didn't finish my Gala outfit until hours before, if you'll believe it. Yours though...you looked right off the runway.

[tickly-trashcan]

Birthday Gifts {Caitlyn x Vi}

Hear Me Out Cake Event!

A/N: HAPPY HEAR ME OUT CAKE EVENT DAY EVERYONE!! hehe i had so much fun writing for this event and everyone's pieces so far have been so CUTE im really excited to see what the rest of the event will bring!! I hope everyone is looking forward to it and has a fun time hehe~

(Caitlyn was requested anonymously, so I hope this finds you somehow hehe!!)

Summary: It's Caitlyn's birthday, and Vi has a very special gift for her. (contains minor spoilers for arcane season 2!)

Word Count: 1.9k (under the cut!)

Caitlyn frowned as she looked at all of her birthday gifts. A variety of expensive bouquets, fancy bonbons from confectionaries all over Piltover, custom made trinkets and intricate stuffed dolls… She was grateful to have so many people even think of her, but she knew that most of these people did not know her.

This was the privilege and curse of being a Kiramman — many houses and high-class people would try and gain benefits through the Kiramman name, and one of the easiest ways to earn favor was to offer something of worth. At least, worth in the sense that it was expensive or rare, not worth in the sense that it would mean anything to Caitlyn.

With a sigh, Caitlyn began to go through the large pile that had begun to amass in her room. Every year she would receive unnecessary things, and every year she would write sugar-coated cards that would thank the gifters, and every year the gifts would wilt or spoil or collect dust in the corner of her room until they were eventually removed.

Caitlyn hated the waste, but there was nothing she could do with the gifts otherwise — regifting to anyone in Piltover would be detrimental to the Kiramman name, as it would make her seem ungrateful for the gifts she had been offered. But she had no use for any of the gifts, so she would simply grin and bear it as she did all her life.

As Caitlyn read the birthday cards that were tied with fine ribbon to her gifts, she made a mental list of who had given her what. She got so distracted by keeping track of who had given her the chocolates and who had given her a mechanical ballerina that she did not even notice the door to her bedroom opening.

Caitlyn flinched at the sound of an impressed whistle. She whipped her head around and immediately any annoyance and tension that was building up in her was dissolved.

“Happy birthday, Cupcake,” Vi said with a bashful smile. “Sheesh, did I even need to get you anything for your birthday? Seems like you have quite the hoard already.”

Caitlyn rolled her eye and strolled up to Vi, pulling her into an embrace. “Mmm… Just because I have a hoard of material objects doesn’t mean I quite have what I want, yet. Well... I do now.”

Vi kissed the crook of Caitlyn’s neck as they hugged. When they finally pulled away, Vi kissed Caitlyn’s brow and gently rubbed her cheek with her thumb. “You’re too sweet, Cait. But really, I’m kind of embarrassed to give you your gift, now.” Vi handed Caitlyn a small, poorly wrapped gift that was tied up with a piece of dark pink string. “I couldn’t even find nice wrapping paper… It’s just some newspaper I nabbed on the way up.”

Caitlyn shook her head, cupping Vi’s cheeks. “I’m grateful you even thought to get me something. All of these? They’re people that are just hoping to curry favor with my family, they don’t even know what I like.” Caitlyn took the gift from Vi and held her hand. “I want to open yours now… Sit with me?”

Vi nodded her head and Caitlyn led them to her bed, where they sat on the end as Caitlyn gingerly began to untie the string. She chuckled as she struggled with it, and Vi rubbed the back of her neck. “I triple-knotted it…”

“Like a bootlace?”

“What if it came undone?!”

Caitlyn laughed loudly and leaned against Vi’s shoulder, finally managing to untie the string. She tore apart the newspaper, which had been surrounding an old cardboard box. She opened it, and inside was another cardboard box, though this one was new and did not look like it had been tossed around.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at Vi. “This isn’t one of those gifts where I have to open ten or more boxes to get to it, is it?”

Vi shook her head with a chuckle. “No, I’m just terrible at wrapping. Your gift is in that box.”

Caitlyn smiled and opened the lid on the smaller cardboard box. Inside was a small wooden music box with a cursive ‘C’ carved into the top of the light wood. It did not look like it was made by a professional artisan, but there was a small note tied to the key of the music box, which Caitlyn tilted slightly to read.

“For the sweetest cupcake,” Caitlyn read aloud, a small smile growing on her lips. “I am so lucky to love you… P.S. the ‘C’ stands– stands for... Vi, I can’t read this, the words are too small.”

“The ‘C’ stands for ‘Caitlyn’ not ‘cupcake,’ I just wanted to make sure you knew that,” Vi said with a grin. “I know it’s nothing fancy, but–”

Caitlyn pressed her lips to Vi’s before she could say anything else and pulled her in close. After a few moments, she pulled away and laughed softly. “Vi, this is… I don’t even know what to say. I love you so much… I’ve never gotten a gift with this much thought in it!” Caitlyn laughed. “And to think you were embarrassed because of all those other gifts… Vi, this is the best gift I’ve gotten.”

Vi smiled softly. “You haven’t even listened to the music, yet.”

Caitlyn hummed and held up the music box, twisting the key. As it began to play, Caitlyn let herself lean into Vi, listening to the tune that played.

“Is this…?”

“Sweet little lamb, dry your tears,” Vi began to sing along softly to the tune as Caitlyn felt her heart swell. “Stay here close, have no fear… The shepherd is gone, but I’m still here… Sweet little lamb, I’m still here…”

“Dear little lamb, close your eyes,” Caitlyn chimed in at the familiar lullaby, staring at the music box as it played the tune. “We’ll be safe beneath these skies… The sun has set, but the moon will rise… Dear little lamb, the moon will rise…”

The music box slowed to a stop and there was silence for a few moments. Caitlyn looked at Vi with awe, unable to express just how much the music box meant to her.

“Vi– This is– How did you know about this lullaby?”

Vi smiled and let her arm wrap around Caitlyn’s waist, pulling her in more as she kissed the top of her head. “You mentioned once that your mother would sing you a lullaby about a lamb to get you to sleep. I wanted you to have something to remember her by… I found that in an antique shop just outside Piltover, but I carved the ‘C’ in it myself.”

Caitlyn sighed softly and clutched the music box close to her chest. “Vi… I truly don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve you, I–”

Vi shook her head and rubbed Caitlyn’s shoulder. “You deserve the world, Cait. I got you this because it’s your first birthday without her, but… Cait– Hey, look at me. You don’t have to say anything for me, this is for you. I’m just glad you like my gift, that’s all I need.”

Caitlyn wanted to tell Vi that there was so much more to this gift than she truly realized. This had given her back a piece of her mother, a piece of something she had lost and never thought she would ever be able to put back together. Vi had experienced loss like Caitlyn, and it was loss that had brought them together and had torn them apart and had helped them heal together again. This music box was not just a thoughtful gift — this music box was so much more.

But instead of saying anything else, Caitlyn nodded her head and pressed her lips to Vi’s.

After they kissed for a few moments, Caitlyn pulled away and looked once more at the music box. She walked it over to her bed stand and placed it beside her carafe. She walked back over to Vi and sat in her lap facing her, cupping Vi’s cheeks.

“Thank you for making my birthday so special…”

Vi smiled and put her hands on Caitlyn’s hips, gently rubbing her thumbs against them. “I hope I can make you feel special every day.”

Caitlyn chuckled. “You make me feel special more than I need to. But today… I think today is a good day to feel special.”

Vi hummed. “You know, I haven’t been counting how many times I’ve kissed you today.”

Caitlyn raised her eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Does it matter?”

“Well, I have to give you twenty-six kisses for your birthday… But I suppose a few extra won’t hurt, right?”

Caitlyn rolled her eye and giggled when Vi began to pepper her neck with kisses. “Hey, that tickles! Vi–!” Vi gently lifted Caitlyn off her lap and onto the bed, continuing to kiss her sporadically all over her neck and jaw. Caitlyn huffed and then began to laugh when Vi gently pinched at her sides. “Wahahait! Don’t actually tickle mehehe!”

“But– You’re so– Cute–!” Vi said, kissing Caitlyn between almost every word. She had begun to kiss Caitlyn’s cheeks and nose as well “Don’t– Make me– Lose– Count–!”

Caitlyn squealed softly when Vi squeezed her hips. “Vi–! Ehehehe!”

Vi slowed down on her kisses and her tickles. She became more purposeful with where she placed her lips and her hands traced gentle circles on Caitlyn’s sides, bringing out sweet giggles as she looked up at Vi with a soft look.

“Twenty-two,” Vi said before kissing Caitlyn’s collarbone. “Twenty-three…” A kiss to Caitlyn’s jaw, just below her ear.

Caitlyn giggled softly, watching Vi as she continued. “Twenty-four,” Vi kissed Caitlyn’s left cheek. “Twenty-five,” Then she kissed Caitlyn’s right cheek.

“One more…” Vi said with a sweet smile, her lips hovering just over Caitlyn’s lips. Caitlyn let her eye flutter shut, but was then surprised by a quick kiss to her nose. “Twenty-six!”

Before Vi could laugh or joke or tease, Caitlyn had her arms around Vi’s neck, pulling her in for a real kiss. Caitlyn could feel Vi melt under her touch and she smiled into the kiss.

“That was twenty-seven,” Vi said with a small smirk.

Caitlyn shrugged. “Well, it made me feel special. Isn’t that the point of today?”

Vi laughed and nodded before pressing her forehead to Caitlyn’s. She tucked some of Caitlyn’s hair behind her ear and then gestured to the pile of gifts in the corner of the room.

“Well, special girl, you still have one or two or a hundred gifts to go through… Do you need any help eating those fancy-looking candies?”

Caitlyn groaned. “I suppose I could use some help…” An idea popped into Caitlyn’s head and she looked up at Vi with her eye bright. “Actually, I think I could use a lot of help.”

Vi raised an eyebrow and Caitlyn stood up, walking over to the pile of gifts. “These almost always go to waste, but… Do you think some of the children in the Undercity would also like to feel special today? I can’t really give these out to anyone in Piltover, otherwise there would be some… well, let’s just say I would have more of a headache dealing with unhappy gifters than writing one or two or a hundred thank-you notes.”

Vi looked at Caitlyn with a wide smile and she nodded her head. “I’m sure there would be quite a few kids who would love this stuff…” Vi walked over to Caitlyn and they began to sort through the gifts. “You’re so special, Cait.”

Caitlyn nudged Vi with a grin. “It’s because it’s my birthday!”

[itsdafavone]

❝𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤?❞

cw: kinda fluff - light cussing, mention of fighting.

tropes: friends-to-lovers (kinda enemies), grumpy x grumpiest.

pairing: best friend!katsuki bakugou x f!reader.

if there was something that for the surprise of both of us never made any truly mad, that was probably how neither of us could've won. Each other, of course.

me, and him that have always "allowed" me to follow him around; we never won from a fight against one another. Always truly infuriating but we never thought about it that deep since our friendship was way more important than this shit, even if none of us would admit it out loud. But here am I, I've stopped to take a brief moment and think about it all, since Mina called me out:

"girl y'know that ain't normal for such talented person such as yourself..."

she took a pause, trying go figure if that was what she was going to say, frustrated because couldn't find her "right" words, kept going

"and your, uh, friend?" giggled "it's not possible that none of you are able to win."

it's frustrating how kats' spends more time in my mind than I would find enjoyable... not that I would find enjoyable thinking of him; but lord it could be way less.

so it all started to descend in ruins in our first spar in a while. I wasn't feeling really good, but denying something to him, mainly when it comes to a fight, it's something that you'll never forget. Why? the spoiled brat will make sure you never forget how weak, self aware and fearful you were; afraid of losing to a god like him, even if he was completely convinced it was obvious you wouldn't. He is a complete fool, a natural.

but how I was delighted to fight with this fool every time. All of our fights were so deep highlighted by not holding back ever. A dance only we could pull up, our momentary show that makes everything worth it, even losing. Letting go all of the social cues, obligations and images of ourselves; only pure and raw anger.

until we are too tired to keep going, to sick of using one another to it's own sake, quirks denying their activation and lungs burning like hell.

a good visit to recovery girl (who couldn't stand our bullshit anymore), a bath in an almost shared dorm; and a nap. Him not insisting, but sleeping in the ground, me in his oh so sweet scented sheets. An ether aroma that never failed into embracing me to sleep, never.

"wake up." he would throw a pillow at me, even if his voice was almost tender when he commanded. I would look annoyed at him taking my deep breath, too sore from the day before to discuss, just like him.

"what time is it?" monotone voice, almost closed eyes, he would smirk. Shit, he made me late on purpose, and I fell for it again.

"shit kats', I fucking hate you!" got up and went all fast to my dorm, luckily the door aside.

"but I love you..." he murmured, before I could get out the door. What the fuck?

I turned to look to him, in total disbelief, a hint of hope in the corner of my eyes, for sure. He fixed his uniform belt.

"Tyler the creator." looked deeply at me, felt like it was through my soul and back. "IFHY." how well I knew him, he was trying act nonchalant.

"sure" even for that tiny brief moment that the stars aligned and time has peaked its final form, stopped and stood completely between us; I've still left for my dorm, looking desperately for my uniform.

the classroom had a weird taste as the day follow its steps, I wasn't in the mood for conversations and my friends respected my boundaries. Just feeling nostalgic for things that wasn't that much time ago, and for others that were way to long.

and feeling melt under his gaze.

all classes finally had their ending, stretching myself close to the door after finishing cleaning, taking my shoe's and being stopped mid-going-away.

"wanna go buy groceries?" he was legit serious, like, drop dead serious. Even if it was out of nowhere; I said a weirdly uneventful: "yeah, why not?".

walking there was awkward, a constant feeling that there's something being unsaid. I didn't dare looking his way, too afraid I would spill what I've been thinking, and how it have been almost all of the time about him. He wasn't particularly comfortable either, not from the way he was constantly itching the nape of his neck.

I stopped, because my body suddenly told me to. Not that it was right, but it felt right and necessary. He made the same, turning to face me.

"what?" he was feeling the nitroglycerin escaping from his palms, his body telling him to fight but not to talk.

"there's something you want to tell me?" he did a micro reaction, his eyes briefly grow bigger and went back to usual as fast. "there's something you need to tell but feel like you can't?".

he laughed not too hard, more in disbelief than anything.

"you're a pain in the ass huh?" unbelievable how you could predict, what himself couldn't say out loud.

"yeah, with the ones that deserves it!" you both giggled, feeling the tension in the air fade away.

he leaned towards you, just enough so he could see all of you. Not only outside but inside too, your eyes telling him exactly what he needed; the weird reassurance of your presence.

"you're makin' me sick." he told you calmly, brows furrowed in concentration.

"makin' you sick?" you said half smiling, almost teasingly. Until it snapped. You knew katsuki, he wouldn't say that in a appropriate way. Your face giving away the fact you've already got everything figured out.

he gave you that shit-eating grin, turning his back and keeping his steps not so steady so you could easily catch up.

he made you sick to your guts too.

✸notes: that was actually so fun to write, even if it's short 😭

[scramboileditlog]

One of my biggest fears about getting into a relationship is the fear of never being enough, especially at an age where I can start a family. In this generation, men are expected to sacrifice their happiness to build the family and life they dream of, and while that's admirable, the risk lies in meeting an ungrateful partner who could render all those sacrifices meaningless. The consequences of that could destroy everything they worked for.

I've seen many relationships and marriages fall apart because of mismatched priorities and a lack of compromise, which sometimes makes me wonder if the risk and sacrifice are worth it. I know we all deserve the best, but when will the search end? Even after finding someone willing to commit, some people still believe they deserve more or something better.

That's why I always wish the best for couples I know who truly support each other, lifting each other up as they grow and improve their lives together, never seeing leaving as an option no matter who reaches their goals first along the way (my way of telling the universe that I want something like that too).

Still, there's the fear of ending up in a relationship where love and partnership are overshadowed by practicality alone. At this point in my life, trial periods are over. If I choose to be with someone, I'll stay and work it out no matter what. I just hope someone will always find a reason to stay too. We either pursue our dreams together or this is just a silly dream.

[more-than-a-princess]

Well, at least he realized it early on. Considering geography and that she assumed Wylan knew where Novoselic was: it bordered the country they were currently in. That meant that snow was a certainty. "I apologize on behalf of my country for the weather you will encounter from around the end of October until April," She told him sincerely, but with a grin as she plucked out various pieces for him to try on. "If it is of any reassurance, it is very common to go out of the country during the two weeks' holiday in January that the Royal Council is in recess, often to somewhere warm." She usually chose somewhere tropical and her family had a preferred resort in the Maldives, but Sonia was open to trying something new. She briefly wondered what Las Vegas weather was like that time of year before going back to browsing. His only other option, besides going along with whatever she chose, was learning how to ski and enjoying it.

Unfortunately, she doubted ski gear would include cartoon character prints: or at least the sort of gear her family would approve of anyone being seen in. "And what age is that, exactly?" Sonia asked, half-teasing and half out of ignorance as he appeared to disapprove of her clothing choices. She'd never exactly asked Wylan his age, it wasn't exactly a polite question and despite how much he enjoyed taunting, Sonia found it in poor taste to be rude in return. Now that they were dating, however, the rules were relaxed. He had seen her naked, after all. "Twenty? Twenty-two? And you can wear your cartoon characters in private. I certainly do." Though hers were, admittedly, more horror icons and anime characters on the occasional t-shirt or sweatshirt.

Still, she pushed the clothes into his hands and ushered him into the changing room with far more effectiveness than any staff member. She was used to getting her way, save for the people she needed to stand her ground with the most: that was what happened when your father ruled a country and your mother was...

Well. She could only hope that Wylan would meet her wearing trousers. Sonia couldn't hide her shock when he emerged without them, causing several men in the vicinity to cough and turn away in disapproval. A turn of her head left and right was enough to indicate that they were her incognito security, and Wylan had managed to startle them. Sonia gave a deep sigh in return: they'd have their hands full trying to keep watch over him, and this was before her parents even knew that he existed. Again. As far as they knew, for now at least, he was a random American who had abandoned her there, never to be seen or heard from again.

She politely declined a coffee but accepted a bottle of Perrier from one of the salesmen, with an empty glass to pour it in. The carbonation was a welcome distraction from her two dueling thoughts: how handsome he looked in a proper shirt and how he would tolerate it: starched collars, no logos, winter, being seen, at least for some time, as an extension of her and the Royal Family. He'd lived a life of independence, albeit one with a likely target on his back, but independence nonetheless. Was it worth giving that up?

Was she worth staying for, with all of the imposed rules from etiquette to dress to royalty-approved conversation topics?

Sonia let the bubbles fizz and dissipate on her tongue, leaving the mineral taste of the sparkling water in her mouth before swallowing. A fitting analogy to his life, perhaps: fizzy and exciting before becoming dull and tasteless upon staying by her side. She had to ensure that didn't happen: she was a princess, yes, but she was also his partner. She wanted, needed, to make sure that this was a life he could not just live but thrive in, as opposed to feeling resigned to it. Resentment of being her support would not do, ever.

"Don't worry about it, I am, as you say, 'thrown under the bus' for quite a lot and I probably only have earned it half the time," She insisted with a smile, getting to her feet. At least these would last until they returned home and royal seal-appointed tailors got their hands on him. Sonia supposed she should be present for the first few fittings, at least: Liam would only encourage him, Sam wouldn't hide his annoyance, and Cecily might burst a blood vessel from stress. "But I think you look wonderful and, ah, appropriate for the autumn weather in this part of the world. Not as warm as you'd like, I presume: for anything above 60 degrees Fahrenheit, one must go towards the Mediterranean. But let's get these and decide what to do next. I am open to ideas." She'd been to Paris more times than she could count, but she presumed it was the first time for him. Or at least the first time he didn't have to kill anyone, which was significant indeed.

Right. The woman is a cinephile. Every quip he makes finds itself traced to one movie reference or another. But how the hell does a rock climbing wall have to settle that too? He laughs, more at Sonia than the actual reference itself. He's satisfied he got the flush, making sure to stare appropriately when she makes the remark in turn.

Not to worry, Sonia. Wylan is adept at multitasking. As seen here as they go about their shopping excursion amidst the displays and racks.

"If it's somewhere that gets snow on the ground, I try not to be there when the snow is. Alas, we can not in fact always get what we want." And, really, he should be epitomized by that sentiment. Though the twisting nebula of timelines had brought him to this point, taking clothes from his now-girlfriend to try on in extravagant fashion. It never evades him how many other opportunities were missed because of his circumstances. What kind of person could Zachary Reis have grown up to be, otherwise? "But if you try sometimes... Well." Wylan lets the remainder of the line be left to the air as the variety of items are taken in hand.

The wrench to his lips is played off comically, despite being sourced to the distaste of how his initial control of fate had set him down into the pits. No, Sonia, he doesn't really dislike your choices, but it's funny to act as though he's being judgmental. A leer sent her way as he leans in.

"There's a severe lack of cartoon characters and humorous logos on these shirts. I wear this and I might be considered someone who acts my age. Not a problem, I'll just compensate. It seemed to work some on your cousins, and I was barely even trying there. It was more trying to keep myself from being beaten up, but y'know."

After a hum, he smiles. Then slips into a changing room to start the show. Everything fit fine enough. And he made sure to dramatically present the fits to Sonia. One time going so far as to step out without any pants on. One of the sweaters being put back because he disliked how far it fell down his hips. That in itself doesn't alleviate some of the creeping feeling underlying this endeavor. That evasive part of his mind, one that wished to stay slippery and never wanted to be pinned down, knew what this was.

Reflecting on movie references, how many were there that included a scene of the rebel being cleaned up and pressed into a stiff ensemble? Sure, these clothes didn't itch as the stereotype usually implied, but Wylan felt a similar sentiment. After all. This wasn't a one-off attire or event for the purpose of fitting into a role. This was going to be him. Wylan Rechtur needed to be a clean cut individual so that he might be a fitting partner for Sonia Nevermind.

For her. For Sonia. For Sonia.

The wrench in his heart is swallowed back. The man stands, staring in the mirror, pensively. It clicks away, he clicks away. Adopting several different poses to see if he couldn't break free character-wise. Or if that mattered. Did it? Probably not. Just as Sonia was handed clothes to wear, the assassin imagines it'll be the same case for him. Some little assistant toddling after him that could go so far as to fuss over which buttons he bothered to snap.

Right then.

"These'll work." He lies, smoother than the coffee he had just been drinking with no betrayal on his features. The smile he passes to Sonia is genuine as he slips out of the changing room one last time (this time his pants are on, not going to pull that twice in one setting). Now back in his prior clothes with everything he was inclined to grab over the arm. "And if they don't, I'll make sure to take the blame, and not immediately throw you under the bus since you picked them out."

[xxsinisterxx]

It makes me infuriated and so sad when I want to trust people or believe that they won't betray and hurt you. Sometimes, I can tell people are suspicious or bad influences, or they clearly will do harm or fake. But it hurts so much more when you think they genuinely cared. It hurts second-guessing every opinion you ever had of someone and think, "Am I crazy? Am I stupid?How could I not see the signs?" No, I know I am not any of those things, but it crosses my mind. The part of me that wants to trust and love people is literally in shambles. The part that sees the colors and life as beautiful, not ugly or jaded by the harm and trauma. I just want a break from everything. I want a break. I want to break. Just when you want to pick up the pieces, they break again.

[andromeddog]

a well deserved rest

my secret santa gift for @onlyyouexisthere ✨ i hope you enjoy this drawing of winters having a little break, which we could all use

[ciderjacks]

being native rn feels insane. Like at some point shit just becomes really funny. White americans are so insanely INSANELY deluded all you can do is laugh at them, because if you dont laugh your head will explode into flames and you’ll go out into the streets indiscriminately stabbing white people like your life depends on it.

[libby-for-life]

(Hope you don't mind me adding something—)

Adam felt like giving up, the weight of his unrequited feelings pressing heavily on his chest. Every attempt to get Lucifer to see him as more than just a friend had ended in humiliation, leaving Adam feeling like a fool chasing after an unattainable dream. Each moment spent in Lucifer's radiant presence made his heart race, yet it seemed to pass unnoticed by the one he desired most.

The First Man felt the sting of tears welling up in his eyes, but he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to swallow the emotion. Men don’t cry, he reminded himself, even as he battled the urge to collapse under the strain of his longing. Yet, every glance exchanged with Lucifer ignited a fierce yearning within him, a desperate hunger that left him both exhilarated and heartbroken. Adam couldn't shake the feeling that with every lingering look and casual touch, he was silently pleading for a love that felt eternally out of reach.

"Adam? What's wrong?" The voice cut through the silence like a knife, and Adam couldn’t help but glare at Lucifer, whose bright eyes were filled with genuine concern. The late afternoon Hell light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the tension in the air.

"Forget it," Adam snapped, attempting to pull away from the conversation, but a strong, reassuring grip fastened around his wrist, preventing his escape. "Don't care? How can you say that?" Lucifer's voice trembled slightly, his expression a mixture of disbelief and hurt that tugged at something deep inside Adam.

Adam's glare intensified, a storm brewing behind his storm-gray eyes. "You don't care how I want you to. You never will." Each word dripped with frustration, revealing a pain that had been festering for far too long. The atmosphere crackled between them, heavy with unspoken truths and unresolved feelings, leaving an ache that lingered like an unfinished melody.

"How do you want me to? Adam, I don't understand!" Lucifer exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice as he raked a hand through his tousled hair. The hotel room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. But Adam was done holding back. He had reached the breaking point, his heart pounding as he took a step closer, defiance igniting in his eyes.

“Fuck the consequences,” he thought. He didn’t care if the guests overheard their argument or if Lucifer looked at him with disgust. The risk was worth it. With a deep breath, he shouted, “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME LIKE I LOVE YOU!” His voice echoed off the walls, charged with raw emotion.

There it was, the truth laid bare between them. Adam braced himself, ready for Lucifer's wrath, anticipating the moment he would be picked up by the scruff of his neck and thrown out into the cold night, banished from this fragile world they had shared. But he couldn’t hold back any longer; he had to take this leap, no matter the cost.

He suddenly felt a hand on his face, bringing him to look at Lucifer. Adam couldn't even see properly because he was crying. "Oh, Adam...why didn't you just tell me?" He gently kissed Adam and he would have collapsed if Lucifer didn't hold him up. Adam blinked the tears away when they broke the kiss, the devil's gaze hot. "Now...enough of all this beating-around-the-bush."

Adam shivered when Lucifer smirked. "So...are you certain you don't have any other symptoms of prostate cancer?" He whispered in Adam's ear. "Because in my professional opinion, I need to have another look..."

Oh...shit.

Adam trying to get Lucifer to have sex with him but Lucifer is obviously at every turn.

-

“I love popsicles. Licking them, how they feel in my mouth, swallowing.” Adam moaned sinfully, “but sticky drool always covers my chin, dribbling down onto my chest.”

Lucifer looks up from his duck, towards Adam. Sees the sticky mess doing exactly as Adam said. A string of saliva from the popsicle to Adam’s open mouth. His face flushed. He chuckled. Poor Adam must be really desperate.

He conjured a damp cloth so Adam could clean up the mess on his face and chest. “Here you go, buddy!” Lucifer’s went back to his duck.

-

Adam lay on top of him. His voice husky and he moaned out. “So sooorry. I tripped.”

He straddled Lucifer’s waist, laying there with Lucifer’s face in Adam’s soft pecs and chest hair.

Lucifer reached up, grasping Adam by the hips. “That’s alright.” His voice was muffled by Adam’s chest. He teleported them so that they were standing, and pulled away. “Accidents happen.” He let go and continued on in his search of Charlie.

-

Adam gasped as he scrolled his phone. “Lucifer!” His voice panicked. “I think I have prostate cancer!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You’re dead, Adam.”

“The internet says it matches my symptoms.” Adam moved from sitting at his end of the couch to kneeling and clinging to Lucifer’s arm. “Can you check?”

He must be very worried if he wanted Lucifer to check. So he pressed his hand to Adam chest and checked. “You’re all good.”

Pouting Adam sat back down.

Idly, Lucifer’s wondered if maybe Adam was having trouble adjusting to hell. He sure had been clingy lately.

[spacedlexi]

Hi Lexi

What do you think of partially blinded Vi? You never seem to draw her that way, and I kind of just wanted to know what do you think of it as a certified Vi lover.

I personally think that while something like this can be "cool" (as in, being beneficial to the character design), it's handled quite poor for Vi and it just looks a bit... ungrateful. Simply doesn't look good, doesn't fit her personality or character (am I missing something?) and it doesn't seem to fit or suit her...unlike Kenny's iconic eyepatch. To me, it has become a pivotal thing in his design to a degree in which Kenny with both eyes seems a bit odd looking. I see it as a symbol which stands for Ken being a martyr and all he's lost and sacrificed. He is all about family and helping those he loved, his loved ones truly were the "apple of his eye". It all makes sense, doesn't it?

But for Vi, it's excatly the opposite. I'm just so sorry to see her like this. 😭😭😭 I don't think it makes sense in any way. Louis losing his tongue because he's so talkative and "won't shut up" does kind of make sense, but I cant help but see Violet losing sight as kind of lazy writing. "We need something bad happening to her!!! suffer the children!!!'- the writers exclaimed.

i think vi losing her eyesight is incredibly impactful on her character and i honestly dont understand why some people say its lazy writing. especially since it was foreshadowed multiple times. vi losing her eyesight i think is even more impactful on her character than louis losing his tongue because at least louis still has his music to express himself and uplift spirits through (and its not like he cant communicate At All. his note still makes clem laugh). the reason i dont draw blind vi very often is because of how sad it is to me. for multiple reasons

violets whole thing is wanting to be able to protect the people she cares about, and feels immense grief and guilt about the times she feels shes failed them (thinks if she had been there with the twins that day that she couldve done something to save them. feels she failed everyone taken by the raiders. is scared of failing clem too "if something happened to you because of me? i cant lose you too. i wont". its why she cant leave minnie after shooting her. and a kidnapped vi attacks clem because she doesnt want anyone else to get hurt. hell it even ties back to her grandma and feeling guilty about not doing anything for her)

so for her to lose her eyesight? she took pride in her ability to fight and now she cant do that anymore. cant protect the people she loves. and as someone who started the season as an isolated loner, it forces her to rely on those around her for help, stripping her of her independence (and her independence is what allowed her to stand up against the group for clem when it came to the marlon situation in ep2). a blinded vi is forced into accepting community, whereas a saved violet accepts it on her own. her and clem turn ericsons into the home violet could never see it as

the other reason blind vi makes me so sad is that it is Directly a result of clems actions. kidnapped vi had nothing and wanted nothing to do with the bomb, and yet shes the ONLY ONE who gets hurt by it. clem choosing to let vi be taken means clem both breaks her heart, and then burns out her eyes. louis and his tongue is between him and lilly and was a choice THEY each made outside of clems direct influence (even if it was clem who inspired him to speak up, it is ultimately his choice to keep talking, and lilly hurts him for it. its sad he gets punished for a character moment, but clem had no direct hand in him losing his tongue. its why hes not angry to see her in the cell. he doesnt blame clem for what happened), but the way vi is feeling in that cell is DIRECTLY due to clems actions. vi feels like clem abandoned her after she had put herself on the line for her multiple times. she always had clems back but clem didnt have hers. clem is the one who planted the bomb and vi gets caught in the blast. clem hurts her emotionally And physically. and vi apologizes for getting upset (she tries to apologize on the beach too before theyre forced out in the cart, so she felt wrong for those actions immediately even tho they were understandable. lilly and minnie used her moment of weakness to get in her head. she just wanted everyone to be safe)

kidnapped blinded vi is just so incredibly sad to me, especially when you compare her to a fully realized violet. a violet who has come into herself, has confidence, has opened up, has stopped pushing people away out of fear and lets herself love again. shes a leader. a fighter. a protector. and those are all things a blinded violet loses

neither vi losing her eyes or louis losing his tongue is supposed to add anything to their characters. its about what theyve lost. both of them have important parts of their identity stripped away from them after being taken by the delta. its supposed to be sad. heartbreaking. regrettable. unfortunate. they have not gained anything by their time at the delta, only lost important parts of themselves to it