#im across the world from the people i could seek a hug from

[some-random-fandom-chick]

.

[darlingkirstein]

thank you for answering my ask 😭 i felt butterflies as i read them tbh!! hihi since we're in a modern au setting here, do you think they'd have kids or planning to?

your prompts are so fun!! im so delighted to provide my headcannons!! tw: pregnancy

— EREMIKA:

I think they would absolutely want children, probably multiple — but not too many. Neither of them had siblings as children, so I think the idea of a small family appeals to them. I see one or two children in their future. Having children, for them, is such a natural progression of their love for one another that it’s a no-brainer. They get almost giddy discussing it — and the closer the time comes, Eren’s mentioning it frequently, dropping so many not-so-subtle hints to Mikasa. She gladly welcomes them, whispering hushed dreams of children against his skin as they cuddle.

Finding out about Mikasa’s pregnancy would be the happiest moment of Eren’s life — and she’s equally as elated to see his excitement. He’s gonna go full protective paternal instinct mode and be almost annoyingly attentive to Mikasa. He’s cooking everything for her (he’ll redo meals if a smell or texture or taste bothers her), brushing her hair, keeping a really close hold on her to make sure she won’t trip or fall or anything. Protecting their baby becomes his biggest mission in life. Since he’s so big on tactile contact, I think Eren would be really keen on touching Mikasa’s stomach constantly and kissing her belly to try and get the baby to kick. He’s definitely also saying stupid things to her stomach in the hopes of communicating.

Mikasa’s super hormonal — and she feels guilty when she takes it out on someone that’s just doing what he can to support her. I think, when pregnant, Mikasa gets more touchy and clingy, wanting to cuddle whenever possible. Her muscles ache, so Eren’s massages are so relieving that she probably bursts into tears. She’s just so connected to him and appreciative of all he does and hugs him so much, even as that gets more difficult to do as her belly swells.

I think they both want a daughter — and that’s what their first baby is, a little girl squealing the moment she enters the world. Eren tries to keep it together but he cries when he holds his daughter for the first time — and he’s instantly FaceTiming Carla to show off. his cute little baby. Their daughter is the perfect genetic blend of the two, almost freakishly great at borrowing from the features of both parents. Nobody could ever question who the parents are — it’s etched into her tiny strands of hair that’ll turn into dark tufts, her nose, her eyes, everywhere.

He calls his daughter his little ‘peanut’. That’s always been my favorite headcannon about Eren’s terms of endearment for his daughter. Mikasa has to practically beg for her daughter because Eren’s constantly holding her and doesn’t want to relinquish precious daddy-daughter snuggling time. I think that the peanut nickname lingers even after she’s grown up.

They both probably spoil their daughter (and any future children they may have): going on fun vacations, going for frequent mini-trips around town, doing all sorts of fun stuff. Eren is most guilty of spoiling — something their daughter may start to take advantage of in her teenage years until Mikasa notices the credit card bill piling up.

I can imagine many nights ending in family game night or movie night, anything where they get to relax together — falling asleep on the couch, their daughter snuggled between them, her head on Eren’s chest and legs across Mikasa’s lap.

In terms of parenting:

Eren’s the chill parent — not totally permissive but certainly lax. Being his daughter’s best friend is something he actively seeks, so they spend a lot of time together, getting ice cream or going shopping. They probably coordinate to “prank” mommy, becoming a scheming duo full of mischief and good humor.

Mikasa has to wrangle some control over the household since Eren’s the biggest people pleaser ever for his daughter. So, she’s the one handling discipline — but that doesn’t mean she’s strict or mean whatsoever. I think the relationship Mikasa has with her daughter is a more subdued, intimate kind. Her daughter confides in her about manners id girlhood and the female experience that her father is quite frankly clueless about. Mikasa gives really great advice about relationships, boys, and also shares her own insecurities to make sure her daughter feels seen and heard.

— JEANPIKU:

Honestly, in the earlier stages of their relationship/marriage, I think that they would find the idea of children off-putting. They like their routine and the life they’ve built between the two of them — wouldn’t a tiny human screw things up? They’re both focused on their jobs and their hobbies and friends. Kids aren’t a priority, and frankly, Jean’s a little terrified of being a dad.

I think this changes when one of his friends (honestly, let’s say Eremika) has a child and invites people over to meet the baby. Something shifts in Jean — as well as Pieck, but it hits Jean hard. Eren hands his daughter over to Jean (who’s frantically worried about dropping her or somehow screwing up); when he calms down and looks into those tiny eyes, he’s in love. Pieck can’t help but feel the same way watching her husband take care of a little baby — it’s doing weird things to her inside, making her heart melt. Seeing Jean being so tender with someone else’s baby makes her imagine how he’d act around a child of his own, and that’s when they start discussing it earnestly. Baby fever strikes hard; everytime they see a mom with baby in a stroller walking down the street, they turn to each other, pouting.

I think Pieck would be intimidated by pregnancy — whether it’s her smaller stature or just general anxiety, she’s nervous when she takes that test and sees those two lines sealing the deal. It’s not that she doesn’t want a child — she does, wants a family with Jean — but she’s worried about everything, worried about being a good mom, worried about how these next nine months will go. Thankfully, she’s got a great support system in Jean — it’s just a shame that he’s pretty much equally as terrified as she is the moment reality hits and his career as a dad is forthcoming. He does his best to stay calm for Pieck, though, since he knows her job in all this is far tougher.

Their fears are compounded by a little complication — at an early stage check-up with the doctor, they’re told that they’re having twins. That wasn’t part of the plan at all! It takes a lot of restraint not to freak out in the moment, but at home, the anxieties fly free. It all culminates in then reassuring each other that everything’s gonna be okay and that they’ll be okay.

Jean tends to be a little neurotic about any changes in Pieck’s condition. She’ll text him saying she’s super bloated or that the baby hasn’t kicked in an hour and suddenly he’s leaving work early to go check on her — just a total mess — and Pieck teases him when it turns out to be nothing at all, while he’s left blushing and embarrassed with a boss who’s getting sick of all these premature departures for false alarms. He spends his time reading parenting books and Googling ways to be a supportive husband throughout the pregnancy. He satisfies all her cravings and tends to her emotions — even when, on the inside, he feels like that episode of Community where Troy walks into the apartment aflame, horrified at the sight ahead of him.

You know in the Sims, when the mom starts going into labor and the dad starts jumping up and down screaming in panic? That’s Jean. His nerves are peaked when they’re on the way to the hospital to have the babies, and they only get worse in the delivery room. He’s gripping Pieck’s hand so tight she has to snap at him to loosen up. Watching her scream in pain makes him borderline nauseous, but the last thing he wants to do is make childbirth about him.

Each of them holds one of the babies after they’re born — a girl in Jean’s arms and a boy in Pieck’s. The fear is palpable, both thinking something along the lines of, I can’t screw this up, I can’t hurt these sweet, adorable creatures that have become everything to me the moment they arrived. Jean and Pieck look into each other’s eyes — and they both smile, taking deep breaths of relief. They did it. They made it this far.

As they grow up, the twins unconsciously begin to favor one parent — and the same happens with Jean and Pieck, loving both with their whole beings but drawn to one.

Jean loves nobody in the world more than his daughter — maybe Pieck, naturally, but he falls head over heels for his carbon copy, the girl with the blonde hair and propensity for pouting. He struggles to know what to say to her or how they should bond, but once it clicks, it clicks. He’s fiercely protective of her — any whiff of trouble at school and he’s anxious to hear the details, to figure out how he can best handle it. Nobody hurts his girl — and Pieck has to convince her husband that not every boy in the world has the worst intentions when his little girl is old enough to start dating. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her — she’s smart as hell and Jean knows it — he doesn’t trust the male sex, and the thought of someone hurting his daughter festers as anxieties in his chest, anxieties he learns to endure.

Pieck and their son have a fun bond. She loosens the reins on him rather heavily, giving him the freedom to explore and make stupid mistakes — a couple scrapped knees and broken bones are part of growing up, and they happen. She doesn’t get angry with him easily, the soft spot so prominent. He loves his mom dearly — until he starts being interested in girls, and Pieck’s overly interested in the gossip and who he’s got a crush on, to his grand annoyance. She means well, just trying to show investment in his life — and to make sure he knows there’s always someone available to talk to at home besides his father.

I could ramble on longer about the dynamics between Jean and his son and Pieck and their daughter, or more about Eremika, but I think I’ve already said enough! I love talking about these headcannons, thank you so much for asking these questions — if you have anything else, I’d love to talk about my thoughts. These ships are so dear to me :))

[jennamoran]

A correspondent asks:

#philosophy #you lost me at the math im sorry #i want to understand #i guess i just dk where any of the numbers used are coming from. like #is the ethical median like if you asked a randomized sample of people across the world if something was moral? #bc even as a theoretical thing that would be hard to do because of cultural differences imo

The traditional formulation of ethical median maximalism concerns itself solely with the ethical average and not the source numbers from which that average should derive. One of the most compelling philosophical arguments against ethical median maximalism as traditionally formulated, in fact, is the idea that as the number of things we should or shouldn't do goes to infinity, the median value of our ethical choice might diverge.

(For those shaky on the math, that means that it's easy to decide the ethical median if there's only like three things you're considering doing. Maybe you're considering killing someone, but you've tentatively concluded that might be unethical. Then there's hugging a puppy, which you're pretty sure is okay. Then maybe you're like thinking about pirating software. As soon as you figure out whether it's okay to pirate software, you have the ethical median: two things are okay, so everything is allowed; or, two things are wrong, so nothing is okay whatsoever and you can only notionally curl up in a notional ball and modally wail. Nominally speaking, no matter how many more things you add to the list, as long as you stick to an odd number of ethical conundra, you will never risk ethical uncertainty under ethical median maximalism. However, it's possible that as you start to throw literally every possible ethical question in there, instead of a rapid convergence on a defined answer like "yeah, go for it" or "nope, we live in a fallen world or something, this stuff is bad," you will see a rapid wobbling back and forth, a "hyperexponential ethical oscillation" (which is really just technical jargon for "uh oh,") between the definite conclusion that you should and the result that you should not. This kind of ethical oscillation means that you can't turn to the already somewhat philosophically suspicious idea of mathematical limits in order to determine what the result will be when you finish throwing all possible ethical choices into the pot---it could go either way, stranding us on the tidal island of the human condition again. Ethical median maximalists generally believe that a sufficiently large sample of ethical answers will show a sufficiently firm trend towards "do" or "do not," at which point they can stop taking samples ... but of course, such ideas are not reliable.)

Why, then, do we care at all about ethical median maximalism?

Mostly, the ethical median maximalist would say, because if we do not continuously seek the ethical average, we will be forced to consider situational nuance and the possibility that doing the thing could be both good and bad, or that both doing and not doing could have merits, which is, first, functionally unsustainable, and, worse, leads to potential hyperexponential ethical oscillation itself.

What you're referring to with your thought is actually something called a randomized sampling ethical oracle, which relies on the so-called "wisdom of crowds" to resolve ethical dilemmas. As you point out, it's enormously difficult to avoid intrinsic sampling bias when you're doing this, even in the abstract thought experiment stages before you get to the point of actually trying to interview a selection of random individuals. Worse, any given sample can only solve a single ethical dilemma, as if you try to solve all ethical dilemmas simultaneously using this method you will be stuck interviewing people basically forever, after which time it will be too late to do anything ethical anyway.

As another correspondent also mentioned issues with the math, I should further clarify that "epsilon" and "delta" here are meant to represent arbitrarily small numbers.

Let me step away from the specific context of ethical median maximalism for a moment, and, for that matter, of ethics entirely, because there's a general decision-making principle here that's potentially interesting even to people who find the above discussion functionally meaningless.

--

Let's say you find yourself guessing about what to do.

You think ... maybe ... there's a 30% chance you should do something.

And you do it, and you turn out to be right. It was a good move.

You shouldn't immediately go back and change how you think to say "oh, I should always definitely do that kind of thing."

Like, you're baking. And you think, "I should add more salt? Maybe?"

And you go "oh what the heck," and do it.

And it comes out well. That's confirmation, but, is it really so much confirmation that any time you think should I add more salt? you should definitely do it? If you just sit there over your baking project and pour salt in ... will that work? Probably not.

So one thing you can do is you look at the ideas you have in your brain, and each time one of them proves good, you make it a little stronger. Just a little. The tiniest bit. Like, multiplying it by 1.1. Or 1.0001. Whatever. You just give it that much extra strength in your head.

From now on, it's not a 30% chance you should add salt. It's a 30.03% chance. Or whatever. If you actually rolled it.

And maybe you add salt again in the future. And it works. So now it's like 30.06%.

And eventually you add salt and it's a mistake, so you multiply the odds by .99999% instead, or whatever.

In practice, the number stuff is really only useful if you're a computer, or you're actually randomizing your actions. And conversely no one's actually precise and unbiased enough when not randomizing their actions using a formal random number generator or whatever to multiply their chance of doing whatever by 1.0001 or .99999 or whatever otherwise. But the idea of "this worked, so I can take the parts of my thought process that were for it, and give them just a teeny tiny bit more credence in the future, not much!! Explicitly just a tiny bit!" or the converse if it didn't, extends beyond the probabilistic context.

Conscientiously applying this in every aspect of your life is known as broad-scale oopsy-doopsy epsilon-delta monte carlo conscientialism, and arguably does serve as a useful counterbalance against, e.g., the seductive allure of ethical median maximalism and its kin.

I hope that helps!

ethical median maximalism is the theory that instead of working out which things are individually ethical you should just try to determine the average of whether you should do the thing and then if it's no you should stop doing things and if it's yes you should do all the things. This theory is also sometimes called second-order or dereferenced kantianism, with third-order kantianism being the idea that basically always

[astro-nova9]

Feelings

Prompt: How did they realize that they had feelings for y/n?

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Keigo Takami, Tomura Shigaraki

Warnings:Mild language, suggestive themes if you squint reaaaaaal hard, cannon death mention. 

A/N: ahhhhhh this is my first written post on this blog, i hope it doesnt suck too bad but dont put too much faith in me! Im not pulling from any kind of request list or anything i’m just posting a couple of prompts or requests that i would ask some other writer but i’m too shy to ask anyone else to take their time writing silly things like this out. 

Bakugo Katsuki:

For him, it was slow and quick all at once. He never really put much thought into things as pointless as romantic feelings. He had no desire to waste his time. Just like he never really intended on making friends period. They were completely useless, but he had them even though he never once lifted a finger to try. That's kinda how he feels liking you started too. He never really had to try. You were always there just… existing? Like you’d always be sitting on the couch in the lounge on your phone it wasn't anything different than what you’d do literally every day but he found himself being happy about seeing you sitting in the spot that you’d claimed as your own. He’d find himself wondering if you’d be thirsty too when he’d get himself something to drink, going ahead and getting you your favorite drink, just in case. It wasn't even anything that he actively thought about anymore. Just like how you didn't have to call out for him to slow down for you to catch up on the way to class, he’d stopped walking ahead at all, saving the time and just waiting on you to get there before setting out. The only time he really realized a difference is the odd occurrences you weren't where you normally were when you were normally there. You had to go to class early so he felt lonely on the walk although Kirishima was with him. You stayed behind to train some more with your quirk and your spot on the couch was empty so he sat in his room because there was no point in sitting in the lounge alone. If you weren't sitting with the others at lunch because you had something else to do he’d carry around that damn drink all day until he had the chance to give it to you. It was one of the days when he was carrying around a lukewarm bottle of soda, craning his neck to look for you in the halls after classes were finished for the day when he stopped himself. Why in the hell was he doing all this? Yeah, you’d do the same for him, but what's the point? He didn't even know if you’d be thirsty and the drink was too warm to drink now anyway so why was he so adamant about giving it to you? Since when did he care so much about making sure you had a drink that had way to much sugar in it anyway? Since when does it matter to him that you walk with him to class or you're lounging comfortably in your spot on the couch? It was on his mind the whole day but what tipped him off that there was something different about how he felt about you was when he actually saw you after wasting 20 minutes trying to find you. The way he physically relaxed and the stupid ass smile that pulled at his lips when your eyes lit up as saw him too, taking the drink he was offering and telling him how stupid it was for him to wait for you to finish talking to your teacher. He did all of these dumb little things because he liked to and because he liked you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Takami To be honest it didn't take much for him to realize what his feelings about you were but the fact that he had them were wild to him. At first, he thought it was just the fact that he liked how you didn't seem to bat an eye at him. How you treated him just like he was anyone else. Like he wasn't the number two hero with the weight of the world on his shoulders. You never even called him Hawks, when you first met you’d asked him his name, and that's all you ever called him. When he had bad days you’d never ask him to explain or tell him that's what he’d asked for when he signed up for the hero gig. You’d just comfort him and affirm his feelings. It was like you always knew the right thing to say even if you didn't think so. He’d always thought you were cute and when you started tripping over words or getting flustered because of his flirting or being in your personal space it was nearly unbearable how ridiculously attractive you were. The way you’d never just assume something bad about him or outright reject him made it easy for him to seek you out for comfort. Your arms quickly became a safe place for him to just unload the unnecessarily large amount of shit he had to deal with. It was like you took the negative feelings out of his mind like a sponge the moment he said anything. With a gentle stroke of your fingers across one of his feathers or a soft peck on his temple, they were gone, replaced with warm comforting thoughts about you. He didn't put much thought or energy into how he felt about you until he started catching himself thinking about one very particular thing involving you. His future. He started realizing that he didn't want to deal with anything he knew that he’d have to take care of without you being there at the end of the day for him to run to. He wanted to keep you safe and give you pretty things to see you smile. When he started looking forward to seeing you again before he even left was when he realized the extent of his feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shigaraki It was kind of like love at first sight for him. But love was a strong word to use when talking about anything to do with Shigaraki Tomura, the man who wants to watch the world crumble. So putting it more appropriately, you were one of the first people he’d ever met that he didn't automatically contemplate dusting as soon as he laid eyes on you. He didn't necessarily like you, he just didn't want you dead yet. He didn't get it either but that's how it was. He didn't want you dead though, which for any living thing was a start! He didn't get insanely annoyed when he’d walk into the bar and you were sitting in his chair playing on your stupid little handheld game, just slightly. Just like he didn't get super pissed with the fact that you’d find excuses to be paired up with him on missions. He knew it was because with him you’d have a lesser chance of dying but he didn't really mind, your quirk was useful too. He did get a little ticked when you’d bitch at him about taking care of himself, its not like it was any of your business anyway so he never cared to pay it much mind. What he couldn't explain though was the absolute palpable rage when he saw you captive behind Chisaki. The way he wanted to make every other living thing in a hundred-mile radius stop existing was kind of jarring. He didn't understand it and he didn't give enough of a fuck to care. The fact that a piece of yakuza shit would even consider you was enough to sign his death warrant, the death of Magne and theft of compresses arm made it worse. The only thing he could think of while you were gone was how much he fucking wished you’d walk in and ask him to beat a stupidly simple level on your game because you couldn't be bothered, or that you'd bitch about him not eating anything the last couple of days. Every second you weren't around made it all worse. The second he realized just how much he liked you was when you arrived with Toga and Jin after the whole situation was finished and they’d gotten what they were trying to get. Fuck quirk canceling bullets, he was just glad you were back alive. When you ran to him and hugged him he didn't flinch back but he almost passed out when he had to stop his hands from closing around you too. He didn't want to destroy you, everything else maybe, but never you.

[a-libra-writes]

Game of Thrones Imagines - Dancing

in which i write waaay too much about this because ive been listening to waltz music and im absolute trash for dancing scenes

In this preference, you’ll enjoy little drabbles with: Ned Stark, Benjen Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Jamie Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn of Blackwater, Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Brienne, Margeary Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Edmure Tully, Brynden Tully, Oberyn Martell, Yara Greyjoy, Petyr Baelish, Beric Dondarrion, Tormund Giantsbane

seven hells what order should I put these guys in

NED STARK

In his youth, Ned never really bothered with the ins and outs of dancing. He didn’t see the point; training or running Winterfell was more important, besides, it was more of a Southern thing. His brothers shared his lack of enthusiasm, so he didn’t really care about it. 

However, this changed at a gala at Winterfell, when he saw you for the first time. You were so lively and kind, and your beauty seemed to increase tenfold when you danced. He didn’t even notice his brother Brandon was your partner at first, and suddenly, he couldn’t keep himself from asking you for the next dance, worried Brandon might keep you all night. As he put his hand to your waist and your hand in his, he internally panicked… But that melted away as you gave him a reassuring smile.

Ned didn’t even notice you were leading him, nor did he dwell on the few stumbles he made. He just couldn’t believe he was so close to you, and enjoying something like dancing.

He tried practicing and brushing up a bit after that, but really, it was a bit of a lost cause. After you married, he still loved to take you in his arms anyway, and he was never short of praise for you when the gala was over. You teased him about watching you all night instead of visiting with his fellow lords, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he loved watching your graceful movements.

The last dance was Ned’s favorite, as he loved it when you leaned your head on his shoulder and you two could just sway. If you were particularly tired, he’d wait until the guests had mostly cleared out and bridal carry you to your shared bedroom. He used to feel a bit embarrassed in helping you undress, but later he took great pleasure in how you'd sigh. This extended to him eventually sharing a bath with you afterward, soothing your body with the warm water and his hands.

 BENJEN STARK

Benjen had never cared for dancing, especially these silly galas the Southerners liked. He never thought he was missing out, and rather enjoyed teasing Brandon and Ned for having to go to them, and later teased Robb for the same thing.

He was stopping by Winterfell and staying the night when he heard of a gala going on. Benjen wanted to speak with his brother and nephews, so he stopped by inside, surprised by the amount of people and the music. He spotted Jon and went to him, only for someone to catch his eye. He didn’t keep track of the family members of the North, as it wasn’t his place anymore, but he wished he had a name for your lovely face. 

You were dancing with Robb, smiling at him, laughing when he leaned in and said something. He admired the way you moved with such elegance, despite Robb having some trouble keeping up. 

“Uncle?” Jon found him first, and tried to get his attention. 

Benjen quickly shut his mouth and greeted his nephew. As he hugged him, he still glanced at you. Jon had noticed and teased his uncle, mentioning your family was close to the Starks, and you were their only daughter. As Benjen had visited with his family, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you. He was ready to leave, wanting to keep you off his mind, and he was surprised when you sought him out first.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but you’re … Benjen, correct? My cousin is with the Night’s Watch, and he mentioned you - Wait, I haven’t even introduced myself…” 

He thought it was so cute how breathless you were, and you were trying to be polite to a man of the Night's Watch, even if you had no reason to. He asked for your name, and many other questions, both of you drawing into conversation without realizing it. You noticed a few songs had passed already, and you took a chance. You asked if he would be allowed to dance with you. Benjen hesitated, and politely refused you, figuring a lady shouldn’t be dancing with someone like him. He was surprised by how disheartened you look, and he was disappointed as well.

As the evening grew dark, you noticed Benjen had disappeared at some point. You were glad to leave the stuffy hall, your feet and legs were aching. Outside, the frozen air was perfect, and you took a deep breath … and you yelped as a sudden gust of wind hit you. Your dress was thin, and you shivered. 

Suddenly, someone wrapped a warm fur around you. You looked up. “Benjen? I was wondering where you were.”

“You were looking for me?” His pleased smile was cute. You pulled the fur further around your shoulders and spoke honestly. “Yes. I wanted to see you." 

The two of you lingered, and you could feel a sort of tension. There was still music from the hall, albeit muffled and distant. You spoke first, asking him to dance with you.

Benjen couldn’t believe you managed to take him off guard, but he didn’t make the same mistake twice. He accepted, pulling you into his arms. As you shivered again, he pulled you even closer, and you wondered if it was his heart or your’s that you could hear. 

From then on, anytime Benjen passed by Winterfell, you were sure to see him. You two shared several secret meetings, which weren’t limited to dances. He especially liked it when you snuck out of the galas early and curled up with him in your guest room, where he'd soothe your aching legs while whispering how beautiful you looked. 

ROBB STARK

Like most Northern lords, Robb felt the entire idea of galas and dancing was silly. Still, he knew you attended them, so he’d do his best to practice a few steps when no one was looking. During a gala, he didn’t hide that he was looking around for you, and would try his best to have you at the first dance. When he danced with other ladies, he really wasn’t that attentive and sometimes made mistakes out of nervousness, or because he was too busy watching you across the room.

Once Robb finally had you as a partner, it was obvious how pleased he was as he held you. He’d try to play it cool, but you could tell he was concentrating on following the right steps. 

Just for fun, you liked to throw him off by moving a little closer and whispering something sweet. His face would go red and he’d stumble, and you two would laugh to yourselves, stuck in your own little world. 

He’d eventually grow in confidence and you could tell by how firmly he held you and how he began to lead the dance more and more. If you asked him about practicing, he’d have to blush again and admit he was doing it for you, as he loved watching you twirl with more experienced partners, and hoped that someday he could make you smile like that. You’d insist that you love dancing with him the most, no matter what, and he’d likely almost step on your feet again because he was so happy.

At the end of a dance, Robb always gives you an earnest kiss on your hand and lingers a bit, still holding your hand and looking you in the eyes. It’s so obvious he wants to kiss you for real, but then he has to hand you off to a partner, frowning the whole time. He’d definitely want to find you for a last dance, and at the end of that, he’d risk it and give you a kiss on the cheek - still holding your hand. He often lingers after the music ends, still holding onto you, and you have to teasingly remind him to let you go and return to his family. 

Often Robb really can’t take it and finds you after the gala, in the evening, wanting to hold your hand and steal a proper kiss from you. “I’ve been waiting to do that all night.”

“Ha! Get it all out of your system, before someone comes looking for us.”

SANSA STARK

Since she was a girl, Sansa always daydreamed about attending fabulous galas and dances in the South. Once she arrived in King’s Landing, you and her became fast friends after she met you at her first one. She looked up to you, loving your poise and grace. You began to teach her, and although she had some trouble with more complicated steps, she appreciated your patient instruction. Each gala was a whirlwind of emotion for her, and when it became too much, especially with Joffrey, she’d seek you out in the crowd. You’d take her into your arms and dance, quietly alleviating her worries as the music played.

The situation in King’s Landing became worse, but Sansa continued to attend your lessons. You noticed the toll the events was taking on her health and mind, but she insisted she was fine.

One day, she was especially clumsy in the lesson, often making mistakes and spacing out. You knew it was rather pointless you ask, but you did so quietly, whispering to her as you guided her along the steps.

Suddenly Sansa held fast to you, bringing you into a crushing hug. You heard her shudder and try to stifle herself, but several tears came out. You continued to sway, soothing her and petting her hair. As soon as you both heard someone, she pulled away, pressing her sleeves at her eyes to hide any tears. You both quickly returned to the lesson as several servants passed by. 

From that point, Sansa would often exclusively seek you out at galas, pointedly dancing with just you even if propriety demanded you two part. She only would after a scathing comment from Cersei or Joffrey - and she would've danced with others for a time, but then she’d always come back to you. You’d still whisper soothing words when no one would hear as you two twirled. 

Once the dances were over, you both would be exhausted, but Sansa would still linger with you. You’d hold her hand, taking her to her room, sometimes shooing away her handmaidens so you could brush her hair and keep comforting her. She wouldn’t always accept this, however, and would want to help you as well, smiling softly when you’d attempt to joke and make witty comments to lighten the mood.

JON SNOW

Jon was never expected to bother with fancy feasts or galas, and he told himself he was fine with it, especially since Robb was always dressed up and dragged off for them. He still found it a bit lonely, however, and he was curious about the music that was always playing for the galas. Sometimes he’d hang around outside, listening to the laughter and music. He was doing this on the night you saw him. Jon heard someone hurry out, and he was surprised to see a girl all dressed up and out of breath. You sat down on a bench almost fell over as you removed your shoes.

You turned around and yelped, and he startled, too. He apologized for frightening you, and was glad you just laughed it off. 

“You’re … Lord Stark’s boy, right? Jon Snow?”

He was surprised you recognized him, and thankful that you were talking to him so kindly. You introduced yourself, explaining your shoe had broken and you were worn out. As you shivered, he quickly gave you his fur, and you two ended up talking for much longer than you expected.

“The galas aren't so bad, I promise. Yes, they’re tiring, and dressing up takes far too long, and the lords can be overbearing …” You trailed off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. You were so pretty in your outfit, and he wondered if Robb was one of those lords who annoyed you. You stood up and took his hands, further surprising him. “Still, they're fun! Here, I’ll show you!”

Even though Jon tried to protest, he really couldn’t argue once you were placing his hands. He knew something of dancing that he was taught, but not much, and he hoped he didn’t touch you anywhere inappropriate. You ended up swaying and dancing along, and he began to forget himself. 

Once you began to shiver again, he remembered your feet were bare and offered to help you to your guest room. There were several more galas at Winterfell, and you liked skipping out to talk and visit with him. He still had plans to go to the Wall, and he considered his time with you precious, knowing it wouldn’t last long. A few times Robb or Theon teased him for having a crush, and he’d just tell them they were imagining things. 

Whenever he'd hear the music of the galas, whether it be a minstrel that was playing or someone singing, he'd wonder what it'd be like if he were a true Stark and was allowed to dance with you like the other lords.

THEON GREYJOY

Naturally, Theon wasn’t allowed to participate in the few galas at Winterfell, and he didn’t think Ironborns should be doing flowery dancing, anyway. Still, his interest was piqued when he noticed you and Sansa practicing, and how the servants would gossip about how lovely you and Robb looked when you danced. 

So Theon ended up sneaking into a few, especially at Robb and Jon’s urging. They were ready to get a kick out of Theon falling over himself or Catlyn dragging him out by the ear, but he surprised nearly everyone when he strode up to you with confidence, asking for a dance. You knew him, of course, and you were surprised when he kept up with you.

Not just that, he was almost a natural even if he didn’t know all the steps. He had an infectious energy, and you two ended up sharing quite a few laughs. If he messed up or you teased him about his hand being too low, he’d have a joke ready. Once you finished the dance, he made sure to kiss your hand with a wink, sometimes giving you a kiss on the cheek if no one was watching. 

Theon’s absolute favorite thing to do was “steal” you from your partner, especially if it was someone he knew you disliked. He’d just whisk you off with a smirk and a quip, and you two would try to stifle your giggles at how angry the man would look. 

Theon was only able to snatch you for the last dance once, and he got an earful for it later - but it was completely worth it. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, and he stole a kiss before being dragged off by Robb and Jon, who were positive that Catlyn was going to tear Theon a new one. 

Theon would always try to find you after a gala. His usual flirting would fall a bit short, as he’d be a bit intimidated by how lovely and breathless you looked, but you’d still smile and would give him a real kiss goodnight. 

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

You were a noble from Westeros who had long been travelling Essos, and you soon came into the service of the Queen of Dragons. You two had a surprising friendship, and she found herself quite drawn to you. One day, she heard you humming and dancing along to something as you tidied up, and she asked you with a laugh what you were doing.

As you described the grand balls you’d attend, and all the silly nonsense your parents would make you wear, she’d become thoughtful. She told you to demonstrate some more of the dances, and you were amused by how queenly her demand was. You’d do your best, but explain that it’s better with two people - perhaps one of her handmaidens or Missandei could help.

To your surprise, Daenerys would step forward and hold you with a strong confidence, all but telling you to instruct her. You’d do so, keeping your smile down as you guided her hands and began the basic steps. Daenerys did her best to follow, although she took it quite seriously, and thus would make a few mistakes. As you’d tease her good naturedly, she’d be even more determined, bringing you even closer and telling you to focus on the lesson.

Your lessons continued for some time, each one the two of you going longer and becoming a little more breathless. Daenerys loved how you’d hum the songs and would move with such confidence, it would distract her more than your lips or the feeling of your body against her’s. Finally, she’d push you against the wall and kiss you until you were breathless… And afterwards, you’d giggle and ask her how long she’s been wanting to do such a thing. The queen certainly punished that bit of cheek.

While you don’t have lessons all that much anymore, during celebrations Daenerys will take you to herself and lead you in the dance. She’d obviously be pleased with your compliments, which you found adorable.

Sometimes in her chambers, when the windows are open and you both can hear the sea, she’d pull you into her arms and want to slow dance. You both would end up making up your own dances, and would take turns leaning on each other and sharing kisses and whispers.

JORAH MORMONT

Dancing with Jorah came about purely by accident. You were discussing Westerosi culture with Daenerys, as you were also from there and she was curious. You described attending galas, all the beautiful dresses and lights and music. Jorah had attended a few as well, even though they weren’t as popular in the North, and he shared his stories.

Daenerys looked to the both of you with a bit of mischief in her eyes. She asked if you two could show her how some of the dances are done. You quickly felt shy, as you had quite a crush on Ser Jorah, but the idea of being so close and dancing with him was a wonderful thought. You looked to him, and he also seemed a little flustered, but he gave you a smile. “A dance or two for the Khaleesi shouldn’t be a problem. It’s been some time for me, so you may have to lead, my lady.”

You gladly did so, you loved it when he called you a lady, reminding you of better times back at home. Despite his words, he took you in his arms with little hesitation and after you counted a few times, you both were easily waltzing around the room. You hummed a song you remembered, and he also remembered it, and began recalling when he was a young man and attended his first gala. 

You didn’t notice, but he was discussing the story more with you than Daenerys, and she had long snuck out of the room with Missandei, the two of them grinning. 

You two had ended up dancing along to several more songs, talking all the while. You hummed and sometimes sang a song, and he easily swayed you even if he didn’t know it. Jorah held you just perfectly, not too tight, and you felt so safe in his arms. It wasn’t until you turned to ask Daenerys a question that you realized you both were alone, totally out of breath and not knowing how long you’d been dancing.

 You had a mix of emotions, you were homesick and lovesick. Jorah assumed your quietness was because you were tired, and he brought you water and took you to a place to rest. You were touched, and you two kept talking into the evening. You eventually began leaning on him and fell asleep, and he carefully carried you to your room and kissed your brow before he tucked you in.

You both confessed your feelings to each other shortly afterward. While there wasn’t much time for parties in the Free Cities, sometimes during quiet evenings you’d pull him into a dance and he’d love it, enjoying your closeness and how you’d hum and rest your head on his chest.

JAMIE LANNISTER

Jamie was always expected to be accomplished in most things, and socially-demanded dancing for stuffy galas was no different. Although he didn’t think much of it, he had a natural talent for it. Jamie didn’t have many chances to dance, however, as the Kingsguard was generally discouraged from participating in galas, unless it was for ceremony or some event.

You first danced together at one of these ceremonies, and Jamie was relieved. You two had known each other for a while, and he was glad not to get stuck with some lovestruck maid. He started out with a smirk, making sassy remarks about the silliness of the whole thing, and you teasing him about being rude while dancing with a lady. As it went on, Jamie started to become quiet. He began to realize how much he liked having you this close, how you smiled and reassured him, and lightly scolded him when he made a rude comment about a guest. He couldn’t keep his heart still, and told himself it was just the exercise. 

He was disappointed when the dance ended, and ended up finding you for a few more. When you were taken for the last dance, he couldn’t deny how irritated he felt, and watched you and your damned partner the whole time.

After that, he was sure to attend more galas, but not enough to bring suspicion to your growing relationship. He’d sometimes play it risky, bringing you closer than was proper, whispering in your ear lovely or flirty praises if he knew his sister was away. He really only enjoyed dancing with you, and didn’t have a problem turning down anyone else, although he had to dance with a few others to avoid being seen as too rude.

After he lost his hand and returned to King’s Landing, the bright galas lost their appeal and he stopped attending, even for ceremony. He ended up finding you in a practice room one day, and you guided him to you, although he protested. Once you began humming a song you knew he liked, and guided him into it, he couldn’t help but bring you close against his chest. He leaned into you, swaying as he nuzzled into your hair, holding you so tight it almost hurt. 

You  knew he was overwhelmed with emotion from his captivity, so when you two got a chance alone, you’d hold him close and whisper how much you loved him, sometimes swaying and humming the songs you two used to dance to.

TYRION LANNISTER

Galas were like any other feast or party for Tyrion, he could have plenty of drink and banter, and if he got bored, he’d slip out and go to a brothel. If he knew you were in attendance, you two would sit together, trading drinks and stories.

He knew you loved to dance, and sometimes you’d step away to enjoy the music. He’d have some feelings of envy and sadness, wishing he could dance so easily with you. One day, you noticed him being particularly self-pitying, and you pulled him by the wrist.

“What’s this, my lady? Normally, I wouldn’t refuse you, but with so many people -”

You smiled and shook your head. “Oh, honestly, it’s not that. I want you to dance with me.” 

Tyrion was obviously unsure, he didn’t want that sort of attention drawn to both of you. He knew his reputation, but he didn’t want to sully your’s. You insisted, but instead of dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, you pulled him out in the halls. 

“Now I’m really getting mixed messages about your intentions,” He joked, trying to relieve his anxiety.

You rolled your eyes and took his hands, and gently instructed him. Outside, you could still hear the music, but you were alone, enjoying yourselves You both ended up losing track of time, and had to hurry back separately, so no one would assume anything untoward.

He was touched by your kindness, loving you even more, if that was possible. During galas, you two would hold hands and drink, and after you married you were more than able to sneak out and dance to yourselves under the moon and stars. 

TYWIN LANNISTER

It was the first time you had attended a gala at Casterly Rock, and your parents wanted you on your best behavior. You had to dance the appropriate amount of time with the appropriate amount of partners, at the appropriate distance. Just thirty minutes in and you wanted to leave.

You noticed Tywin Lannister sitting at a table with his family members; he was hard to miss, with his great presence. However, you became wrapped up in your irksome partners, and you didn’t notice he was gone until he was suddenly beside you. Your scared partner wasted no time in handing you over, and before you knew it, you were dancing with the Warden of the West.

He had a confident hold on you, and perhaps he was a little too close, but you hardly thought about that. You were surprised by his poise and practiced steps; he led you effortlessly and you found yourself complimenting him. You blushed and tried not to look away as he returned the compliment with his low voice. You'd never thought he would do such a thing, and to you of all people.

At the end of it, he gave you a proper bow and kiss on your hand, but it felt different than others you received. You were still buzzing. At the end of the night, he picked you for the last dance, and you were determined not to be intimidated again. You danced wonderfully in sync with him, and you could swear he tried to change some steps to trip you up. You didn’t fall for it, and followed his lead easily. The dance was over before you knew it, and he gave you another customary kiss on your hand, but there was a peculiar look in his eyes that made your heart flutter even more. 

The gossip in court exploded after that, with your handmaids telling you that he almost never danced with any lady, and everyone agreed you two looked like royalty.

You still remember that night fondly after you two married. After you wed, he was sure to get the first few dances with you at each gala, and no one was going to take Tywin Lannister’s wife from him until he was quite finished. Once he was, he’d hand you to a partner and sit down, his eyes occasionally following you across the ballroom. No one would think of making an inappropriate move on you, especially at Casterly Rock. 

If he felt someone was overstepping their bounds, Tywin wouldn’t hesitate to calmly stand from his seat, make his way to you, and give them a quiet but vicious reminder of who you were married to. Then, he’d guide you to his seat, where he’d keep his hand over yours until he calmed down. 

For the last dance, no matter how tired he was or who he was speaking to, he’d seek you out. While Tywin always held you close, if he was in a particular mood, he’d make sure your body was nearly touching his, and his hand would have a firm grip on your waist. The two of you would talk quietly or you'd enjoy a peaceful silence with knowing glances. Tywin wouldn’t want to show too much affection in public, but you could tell from his soft gaze and the way he held you that he very much wanted you. Once the dance was finished, he’d keep you by his side until the gala finished and you two retired to your bedchambers.

SANDOR CLEGANE

Of all the stupid things nobles do, Sandor found galas especially fucking stupid, especially with all the fuss in guarding them. Normally he was glad to take the night off and drink, but since being hired by your family, he had to attend to guard you. 

He’d already had growing feelings for you, and the damn galas only made it worse. You were always dressed beautifully, always smiling at this person and laughing with that one. At least you'd give cold looks to lords who didn’t impress you, but he still hated how everyone held your attention. Anytime one of the lords was too close or touchy, he’d be sure to touch his sword and quietly appear next to you two until they’d slink off.

After a well-known incident involving a drunk lord who ended up lifted by his neck and nearly tossed, the guests figured out you were well-protected and didn’t try anything fishy. It really wasn’t enough for Sandor, he didn’t give a shit about dancing, it just drove him up a wall how other men were so close and touching you. You couldn’t stand some of them, but you had to allow it, and whatever you two felt for each other had to be kept under wraps.

In the evening, when the gala ran long and your legs and feet were absolutely killing you, Sandor would wait until you two were alone and pick you up. He’d cradle you bridal style, secretly adoring how you rested your head on his broad shoulders and kept him close, sometimes touching his face as you closed your eyes. He’d be bold enough to take you into your bedroom and set you down on the bed, ignoring the scandalized looks of your handmaidens. Eventually you began sending them away, and when Sandor would set you down, he’d be sure to strip you from your clothes (perhaps a bit too roughly), rubbing your legs and meeting your lips as you held onto his face.

At one point you were practicing in an empty room and you offered to teach him. He snorted, saying he wasn’t doing that shit, and you laughed, figuring you’d give it a try. After a gala, you still have the music in your head, so when you’re both alone you’ll wrap your arms around him and hum, trying to sway him along with you. He’ll grumble and complain but still bring his arms around you, holding you a little too tight, as if trying to erase all the people who were touching you before. Sometimes he was feeling especially jealous, seeing how flushed your cheeks were and how you breathed heavily in your dress, and he’d be too eager to rip it while ‘helping’ you undress. 

BRONN

No surprise, he’d scoff at the ridiculousness of the galas and dancing. He and Tyrion would have plenty of good laughs about it as you got ready, and he’d be sure to give you several compliments on your backside before you left. After he was knighted at Blackwater, Tyrion made several jokes about him attending to find a proper wife, which he always blew off. It wasn’t until Tyrion brought up your marriage in passing, and how you’d likely find a husband at a gala since you attended so many, that he got a little irritated. 

He didn’t want to go, of course, but he recalled how you always dressed up for them. Were you dressing up for someone in particular? He didn’t think you were the husband-hunting type. The whole idea just left a bad taste in his mouth, so he agreed to go to one with Tyrion, fully intending to just drink and joke the whole time.

Naturally none of the lords and ladies looked forward to having Bronn or Tyrion there, but you still sat with them, laughing and drinking along. Bronn kept fighting the urge to pull you into his lap like he did when he visited the taverns, and right when he was about to pull you to him by your waist, you were asked to dance by some Lord Who Knows from Where the Fuck. Bronn definitely was glaring when the man took you away.

As the lord danced with you, and you smiled politely when he kissed your hand at the end, Bronn hoped that was it. Nope, several lords were ready to dance with you. Evidently, you were popular, and that wasn’t surprising. Bronn wasn’t a flowery words type, but the word ‘beautiful’ kept coming to mind as you twirled and glittered under the lights. It just irked him, so he kept drinking and suggested to Tyrion that they ditch and find a brothel. He remained irritated, despite the distractions.

The next time you readied for a gala and stopped by Tyrion’s office to see if he was joining you, Bronn felt that ugly feeling again, and urged you to come to one of his favorite taverns instead.

You thought he was joking. “In my jewels and one of my favorite dresses?”

“Eh, leave the jewels. I can help ya out of that dress, if ya need it.” He grinned.

You realized he actually meant it, and you sighed, thinking about how upset your family would be, especially since you were still unmarried… But Bronn looked almost eager, and it was hard to refuse him to begin with. You rolled your eyes, told him to give you some time and returned in a much simpler outfit. He couldn’t keep his grin and laugh to himself as he pulled you out of the castle, with Tyrion smirking to himself as you two left.

At the tavern, there was plenty of music and drinks already flowing. After you two drank plenty, Bronn pulled you up, telling you he’d show you what real dancing was. You’d never actually been amongst the smallfolk like this, so you were a little overwhelmed, but you loved the way his hands touched and wandered across your body. He was risky, giving you kisses here on there, sometimes on your jaw or your neck, encouraged by your laughter. Once you two were tired and thirsty, he eagerly pulled you into his lap, calling for another round of drinks. The two of you spent quite a bit of time at the inn and the room upstairs. From then on, you began shirking attending galas, having more fun dancing with Bronn in various taverns and dance halls in King’s Landing.

STANNIS BARATHEON

Not too surprising, Stannis saw no enjoyment in galas, even when he was unmarried and expected to find a wife. The regular feasts were pain enough, and Renly and Robert always took the attention of others anyway.

While courting you, he never actually met you at a gala, preferring to see you elsewhere. When you two married, he realized that he eventually had to attend them, as you couldn’t go by yourself … and he knew how much you loved them. So even with his discomfort, he made attempts to practice with you. You guided him patiently, and he paid attention, although he often got distracted by your happy smile, and how you’d reward him with kisses. He’d tell you to let up on all the affection so he could concentrate, but …. Nope, you didn’t. If you kept showering him with praise and affection, he’d become terribly flustered and try to pull you back into the lesson. 

When a gala finally came around, you could tell he was nervous, even if he seemed the same to anyone else. He danced with you through two songs, which surprised you. You forgot yourself more than once, giving him a chaste kiss or a compliment like you’d do in practice, and you both would blush and hope no one noticed. 

He’d sit out after that, feeling too out of place. He’d feel nervous seeing you dance with more loud and outgoing men, evening starting to grind his teeth if they looked too cozy with you. Eventually, Davos would have to point out that you didn’t smile nearly as much for the other lords, nor did you stay close to them or laugh at their silly jokes.

For the last dance, you could tell he was happy to return to you. He held you much closer, even giving you subdued smiles as you beamed up at him and noted his improvement. At the end, he’d give you a kiss on the hand, but wouldn’t be satisfied and would end up giving you a sweet one on your lips. 

RENLY BARATHEON

While Renly was good enough at dancing and he had friends at the gala, he preferred feasts and tourneys, especially since galas were full of starry-eyed girls chasing after him. You two met when you were forced to partner up, you both were trying to escape more undesirable partners and easily danced away from them. Once you’d both realize what you just did, you’d have a good laugh about it and started to get to know each other. 

Since you two often visited at other events after that, there were rumors, but you knew his heart was with a certain Tyrell. He was a fun friend anyway, especially when you both wanted to escape at a gala. You’d dance and make jokes, complain about your families and snigger at certain guests. One time you both were being pursued by especially annoying partners for a last dance, and you literally spent half the song dodging through couples, avoiding them and finally finding each other, only to be totally out of breath and the song nearly over. 

DAVOS SEAWORTH

You attended more than enough galas for one lady; your parents were so eager for you to marry, they dragged you to dozens. At least you enjoyed dancing, however, the instability of Westeros had other ideas. You followed your father on his campaign to support Stannis, putting a solid end to any future galas.

As you were often at Dragonstone, you befriended little Shireen, who naturally wasn’t allowed to attend galas. You began giving her little lessons, teaching her some of the songs and steps to them, which she loved. Eventually you began to befriend Davos as well, ans he thought it was adorable to watch the two of you. He especially liked the grace and ease that you moved with, it reminded him of a ship sailing on an easy breeze.

One evening, Shireen suggested that you teach Davos how to dance. He was taken off-guard and quickly said that he really wasn’t a dancer, besides, you were a proper lady who ought to dance with proper lords.

“You are also a lord, and a knight, Ser Davos.” You reminded him. "Besides, in these times, the realm has little need for fancy parties."

He still seemed uneasy and tried several other excuses, until you walked up to him, put his hand on your waist and took up his right one. Of course, he felt insecure about his missing fingers, but you didn’t even bring it up. And it was hard to focus on them, when he had your lovely eyes and your sweet smile so close.

Shireen sang the songs you taught her, and you sang along, carefully guiding him into a simple two and three step dance. He was stiff and nervous the whole time, worried about touching you inappropriately, wanting to touch you but knowing he shouldn’t. After that, several times when he stopped by to see you and Shireen, he’d be dragged into another dancing lesson. He actually did love being so close to you, and how sweet you were with the princess. It made his mind wander to what sort of family you two would have. 

Davos never really saw you at a proper ball, which he considered a good and a bad thing. He’d never see you in a lovely dress enchanting the room, but he also wouldn’t have to see younger, handsomer men dancing perfectly with you.

Sometimes when you were feeling anxious, you’d wrap your arms around his warm torso and hold him close to you, humming one of the songs and swaying with him. He’d hold your waist, kissing your brow and giving you words of comfort, knowing you liked the movement and closeness.

MARGAERY TYRELL

The two of you began dancing in the practice room. Margaery was quite drawn to you based off the rumors she heard, and she wasn’t disappointed, as you two quickly dazzled the room. From then on, you often practiced together, usually trading gossip and jokes the whole time.

At the next gala, she surprised you with asking you to dance. You two twirled around the floor, enchanting anyone who watched with your combined grace, not knowing you two were cracking jokes or sharing flirtations while the music played.

You danced often together, although you both knew when it was appropriate to stop dancing together and dance with a possible suitor, it never made you happy. A few times Margaery would notice when a man was getting too close, and she’d swiftly whisk you away with a charming smile, leaving him none the wiser that you were being rescued. Often, you two would catch each other’s eyes while dancing with other partners, and she’d give you a knowing smile. 

After one of the parties was winding down, you accompanied Margaery to her private chambers so you two could get out of your dresses and soothe your aching feet. She noticed you were feeling down most of the evening. “Is something the matter, love?”

“Well…” You felt foolish. “I was thinking how you and I will never get the last dance. If we ever did, people would think it was some joke.”

Before you knew it, she whisked you off the bed and onto your feet. “Then, we’ll dance right now! This will be our last one, or the one after this, or the one after that. The last dance will always be just the two of us, when we decide.”

From then on, you two had a little tradition, having your “last dance” in one of your chambers, humming to the ballroom songs in your nightgowns and usually ending it with a fit of giggles on the bed.

LORAS TYRELL

It wasn’t too surprising that Loras was just as graceful in dance as he was on horseback, and all the ladies of the realm were eager to dance with him when he attended a gala. Loras was polite, giving the proper amount of time to each lady, as he truly enjoyed galas, even if his partners could be lacking, and even if he’d never get to dance with the one he really loved.

However, Loras was surprised by you, pleasantly so. He loved that you knew the complicated steps he couldn’t try with other partners, and would give you challenges to keep up. You two would end up getting lost in the music, dancing through several songs. Several guests would stop dancing or talking just to watch, and you both usually got a hearty round of applause by the end of it.

Of course, you both would be exhausted and sweating, but he had a high respect for you and began seeing you as a friend.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

Brienne wasn’t crazy about guarding galas, as it just brought back painful memories of her own rejections and trying desperately to fit in. She’d sigh and bear it, moving all her focus to protecting you. She took the duty seriously, thus, she always watched you.

She began to admire the grace and beauty you had as you danced. She always thought you were pretty, but when you smiled and twirled, and your hair and gown moved with you, it was almost dream-like. More than once, her heart beat quickly as she watched you effortlessly pull off some move she couldn’t attempt or even name. She didn’t even pay attention to your partners, unless they were obviously pushing their boundaries - which she’d be quick to correct if you didn’t stop them first.

One day, you were in your practice room and she was once again taken with you. You noticed her staring, and asked if she’d like to help you practice.

Brienne was taken aback by the suggestion, and quickly became uncomfortable. She insisted there was no way she could be of any help. As you pressed her, she kept insisting, saying she wasn’t graceful and she’d just end up hurting you.

She sat in on several other practice sessions, and you began to get specific with her. You’d ask her to stand still or hold you a certain way so you could practice a dance. She’d get what you were doing right away, but she’d be obedient, trying to calm her beating heart. As you two became closer, and you reassured her, she’d slowly try to hold you and try a few moves, but she’d quickly lose confidence and retreat into herself.

At one gala, during the last dance, a lord was much too forward with you and even tried to follow after you once it ended. Brienne was quick to put him in his place, face-first on the ground. She escorted you back to your room, noticing how upset you were by the whole ordeal.

“Who cares about the last dance, anyway? It’s just stupid ceremony, yet men act like fools over it,” You ranted, taking off your heels and dress. Brienne agreed, trying not to be distracted by you disrobing.

“My last dance will be with whomever I please. Brienne?”

She stood at attention. “My lady?”

You held out your hands, dressed in only your nightgown. “Will you be my last dance, my knight?”

She blushed to her ears and began to refuse, but she thought of all the men who would try to grab you, coerce you into a dance or just act tasteless. Setting her sword aside, she took your hands carefully. You hummed a song and led her into it, and she swore you could hear her heart beneath her armor. In spite of all her worries and insecurities, she loved having you so close, and she couldn’t stop herself from giving you a proper knightly kiss on your hand once your impromptu dance finished. 

RAMSAY BOLTON

You knew of Ramsay’s reputation when you married him. You weren’t a fool, you were aware he certainly had feelings for you, and he was willing to keep his more … unsavory aspects away from you, for the most part. He was especially good at playing the dutiful lord husband where guests were concerned, although Roose still kept an eye on him during galas.

You adored dancing and you weren’t going to stop just because he didn’t partake. But to your surprise, one day he took you in his arms, and impressed you with how he followed the music and steps. He was rather clumsy, and perhaps a little too fast, but it was obvious he had been practicing. 

You complimented Ramsay, and he was clearly pleased, holding you closer and giving you that charming smile he liked to use. You could always see behind it, but this time it seemed genuine. Sometimes he’d slip up and give you a kiss, often whispering something less than appropriate to you, but before you knew it several songs played and you had enjoyed yourself. 

He was still holding onto you when a man came up, asking for your hand. Ramsay looked confused, then clearly irritated, and you had to remind him. “My lord, it’s customary to change partners every other song.”

“Is that so?” His expression changed again, to a darker one you easily recognized. He handed you over to the man, obviously not enjoying it, and you hoped he stayed out of trouble.

As you danced with other partners, you could see he had a few dances with other girls, but then he returned to the table. You could tell there was strong emotion brewing behind his eyes, you just couldn’t be sure what he’d do.

One of the lords dancing with you was quite drunk, and ended up stumbling. You tried to catch him, but he grabbed ahold of you, specifically on your backside. Before you could push him off, Ramsay was already there, taking the man by the collar. The room went totally quiet as he smiled. “I’d recommend you find a different place for those hands, my lord, or they’ll end up separated from your wrists.”

You pulled Ramsay away and Roose urged the musicians to continue. Before you could even speak to Ramsay, he had you in his arms again, but this time with far more possessiveness. He gripped your waist and brought the two of you completely together, and kissing your neck as you two swayed to the song. He began to bite you and leave marks, his tone sweet but his words told you that you belonged to him, and if you or any lords forgot, he’d be more than happy to remind them.

ROOSE BOLTON

It was common knowledge among the Northern lords that Roose didn’t dance at galas. He wasn’t the only Northern lord who did this, of course, but he already had a reputation for being cold. He’d simply sit at the table, observing the guests and occasionally speaking when it was polite. 

It wasn’t until Roose was courting you that he finally stood, asking you for the first dance. You were just as surprised as anyone else, but you accepted, and you couldn’t help but notice the confidence and ease that he held you with. His movements weren’t flourishing or energetic, but held your attention with his steely eyes. Occasionally, he’d murmur in your ear a lovely compliment, and it would almost break your concentration. 

You noticed as the dances would go on, he’d bring you closer, and you didn’t mind at all. Afterward, he may have accepted a dance here or there from someone else, but he really didn’t get asked, and he seemed quite fine with that. He’d sit at the table at his usual spot, his eyes following you, sometimes catching your gaze and giving an expression that you couldn’t place. 

He was able to catch you for the last dance once or twice, and his movements were so slow and steady, it was almost hypnotizing. You found yourself swaying into him, sometimes leaning, and you had to remind yourself to keep an appropriate distance - but then he’d gently pull you back in. As your cheeks flushed, he asked why you suddenly became so shy, and you managed some excuse. At the end of it, he took your hand and gave you a perfectly polite kiss that still gave you goosebumps because of the way he lingered and kept his eyes on you. 

Once you married, he’d only dance with you. During a gala, he’d keep an eye on which men were dancing with you - if he felt one was keeping too close, or one was dancing with you too often, he’d come from seemingly nowhere and more or less threaten them away, always in his calm tone. Then he’d take you in his arms, swaying you in his gentle and slow way. As you melted into it, he’d give you a kiss on your brow or cheek. He’d whisper to you sometimes, complimenting your loveliness or reminding you that you two still had the business of making an heir.

At the last dance, he’d only seem to want you more, especially if he was feeling jealous through the night. His long fingers would softly rub the small of your back, often slipping lower if he could get away with it, and he’d give several kisses to your lips and neck. By the end of it, you’re usually a mess, and you’d want the gala to hurry up and be over so you two could get to your shared bedroom. 

EDMURE TULLY

As much as his father and sisters attempted to instruct him, Edmure was always clumsy with his feet. Lysa and Catlyn often teased him, pulling him into the practice room and insisting he dance with them. He attended several galas through the years, always quite shy and sort of bumbling when he was dragged to dance with someone. 

When your mother not so subtly suggested that you two dance, the panic on his face was obvious. You were probably the most beautiful girl he’d met, and now he’d be making a fool of himself in front of you. You took his hand, giving him a gentle smile, whispering that it would be okay.

You took the lead and he was surprised by how kind you were. You would quietly instruct him and carefully guide him, and he became confident, enjoying several dances with you. He was so disappointed to hand you over to someone else, he almost forgot to kiss your hand.

After you two married, Edmure actually put a lot more work into his practice, since you loved dancing so much and he wanted to spend time with you. He admired your confidence in all things, but especially when all eyes were on you as you went from partner to partner. He’d try to participate as much as he could, but he still was quite clumsy and didn’t want to slow you down, although you insisted he was doing quite well. 

When the last dance came, he almost couldn’t wait to be by your side. Your cheeks would be flushed from the evening, and he’d lovingly brush some of your stray hair behind your ear before taking your hand and waist in the last dance. He probably couldn’t resist giving you a kiss on your cheek or forehead, being a little embarrassed by his own behavior. Once it finished, he’d again lose himself and give you a lovely kiss before remembering propriety and placing a kiss on your hand. 

Once the evening is over, he’s incredibly attentive to you, massaging your legs and getting you water or whatever you needed. When you tease him about it, he blushes quite a bit, but says he can’t help but look after and spoil his lovely wife.

BRYNDEN TULLY

When you first asked him to dance, he laughed out loud, assuming you were joking. When you insisted, he certainly was surprised, but he set his ale down and gladly stood to join you. 

The Blackfish knew he wasn’t graceful in any sense of the word, but he held you firmly, and he led with confidence. If he ever missed any steps, he recovered so smoothly it was hard to tell. He didn't give a damn about any gossip between the two of you, and respected that you felt the same. 

Often you’d push yourself closer to him, and he’d grin, only holding you tighter, making your heart race. He’d have plenty of witty comments, loving to see you laugh as your cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and maybe you two could sneak in a few flirtatious whispers. He loved how small you were in his arms, and sometimes he'd make a snide comment about hoping his brother and the Riverlands court were thoroughly scandalized by the two of you. 

Brynden would really only have a few dances with you before insisting you ought to partner with some younger men, and better suitors. Even if you’d pout, he’d sit down and go back to drinking and joking with his friends. However, he’d unmistakably look up and watch you, loving to see you twirl and move, and sometimes laughing to himself whenever his nephew nearly stepped on your feet. If he was feeling particularly bold and had plenty of drink, he’d swoop you up for the last dance, insisting to your partner that you were in good hands - and really, it was hard to argue with such a man, especially when he was already whisking you away. 

At the end of the evening, he always gave you a “proper” kiss on the hand, which you know he wasn’t taking seriously at all, as he'd often give you a wink or would scoff at anyone staring. You’d kiss him on the cheek in return.

Once the guests were turning to their rooms, Brynden would find you, pulling you into an empty hall to give you a proper kiss, grumbling about damned propriety. You'd laugh softly as you guided him to your room, though he'd insist on carrying you, delighting in how you'd hold onto him. 

OBERYN MARTELL

Oberyn vastly preferred the galas in Dorne, which had both livelier music and dance. As much as he enjoyed causing a little ruckus or scandal here and there at typical galas, for the most part, they uninterested him.

He ended up attending one, and he was quite ready to leave and find himself amongst far more interesting company. Then, he spotted you just in time, and he wondered where such a beautiful and graceful gem had been hiding all along. Surely he had to have heard of you, and when he realized he hadn't, he would make sure you knew of him. 

He more or less whisked you from his partner and pulled you into a dance full of energy, and he was delighted as you met his unpredictable steps. He'd flirt shamelessly, asking all about you, and if you'd be interested in meeting him in a … less formal setting. There would be endless gossip on you and the Dornish prince, but you didn't care, and danced the rest of the night with Oberyn. It was obvious he loved dancing as much as you did, and he made for a wonderful partner.

You attended a gala at Dorne for his brother's birthday, and Oberyn couldn't believe his luck you that were there. He pulled you into his arms at once, bringing you close and instructing you in the more sensual Dornish dances that most of Westeros was too scandalized by. If you would have him, he'd want you to be his paramour by the end of the night.

Oberyn liked to watch you at galas, and how you adapted so well to other partners and enjoyed every song, not taking a moment to rest. It was painfully obvious how taken he was with you by the way he’d smile in your direction, and when you two danced, you seemed lost in your own world. In the evenings, he’d do his utmost to spoil you and soothe your sore legs, praising your grace and movement the entire time.

YARA GREYJOY 

As hard and bitter as the Iron Islands were, they liked loud music and good drink as well as any place in the Seven Kingdoms. Sometimes a tavern would just be full of both, and a great party would carry on into the night. You loved partaking in these, losing yourself in the music and singing along with the old sea shanties, even if you had plenty of hands to slap away. You didn’t let a bunch of foolish, drunk men ruin your fun.

Yara had seen you plenty of times before, and of course you knew her. She’d sit back with a drink and watch you sway your hips to the beat, and you’d give her a smirk or a wink in return. You were patient, she was not - eventually, she’d finish off her drink, stand up, shove off whatever man was hovering around you and bring you close to her. 

You loved teasing the Greyjoy captain, often saying things like “My, haven’t we met before?”. Sometimes she played into it with you, other times she just hovered close to your ear and responded, “You know exactly who I am.”

You could tell Yara wanted to see you at times other than this, by the way she’d talk of you two ‘touring’ her ship’s quarters or where she might find you again, but you liked to keep her on her toes.

PETYR BAELISH

When Petyr asked you to dance with his disarming smile, you didn’t realize what you were in for. He was an absolute natural, holding you and leading you with expertise. He moved quickly, forcing you to keep up, but you loved the challenge. Fast songs that most people would sit out for were no problem for him, and he even had several sweet compliments for you, or playfully traded a few rumors he’d heard about you and some lord, secretly hoping you’d dispel them.

As you complimented him on his dancing, stating he was a natural, he’d brush it off with false modesty and insist he just practiced… but you knew from that prideful smirk that he was glad to impress you. He especially loved seeing you flushed and breathing heavily after several dances with him, imagining you with the same face in a much different setting.

If you were stuck with a particularly boring or sleazy partner, he’d time it perfectly, swooping in to rescue you right when you were at your wit’s end. With his usual charisma, he’d tell them you were needed, perhaps giving a swift insult to them in the same breath. Sometimes he’d hint that you were already involved with someone else, and would be delighted if you wouldn’t correct him.

The other side of Petyr would come out if you were having fun with other men, laughing along with their jokes or enjoying their dancing. It wasn’t that they were men specifically, but they were lords, rich lords with far more money and lands than he had. At that moment, he’d wait again, taking you in his arms once you were free. His usual quick step and cadence would seem slower, more deliberate, as he’d bring you closer to him. He’d be smiling, but he’d whisper all the things he could give you, how much better he was than them, and how they’d all hurt you anyway. 

BERIC DONDARRION 

Sometimes around the campfire with the Brotherhood, they burst into song and drunkenly dance along. You often felt a little out of place with them, even if you believed in them, as you were a highborn lady. They began singing a song you were familiar with, and since you had a few drinks yourself, you pulled Beric up with you, asking for a dance. He surprised you with properly holding your waist and hand, and you remembered he was a lord before this.

The men began to whistle and holler as you two attempted a waltz, but eventually it came back to you and you guided him. He laughed, as he had mostly forgotten, and cooed about how cute and lovely you looked. Eventually you slipped a bit and he caught you, picked you up and sat you back down with him, giving you plenty of kisses and holding him to you. You teased him, saying you wanted to keep dancing, and he promised he’d join you anytime you wanted one.

He knows you left behind a lot to join the Brotherhood, and as much as you say you love him, he still sometimes worries and just wants you to be happy. So he’s sees no problem in indulging in your dancing and singing, and often gets overwhelmed with how precious you are during those times. 

Since he learned how much you enjoyed it, sometimes he’d surprise you, scooping you up and pulling you into a dance. Beric adored hearing you laugh with happiness, and he thought you looked especially pretty when two danced around the fire. Sometimes you’d jokingly teach his  men how to dance ‘proper’, and even though they were playing around, Beric would get a little forlorn and eventually pull you back to him.

TORMUND GIANTSBANE 

When you tried explaining to Tormund what galas and dancing in the South was like, he’d be quite confused, not understanding the point of it, but he just loved to hear you talk and describe it. Eventually he’d ask for a demonstration, and since you two were alone, you’d sigh and give it a try. “Well, it would be a bit easier to show you if I had another person-” 

Instantly he’d stand up, and you’d laugh at his enthusiasm. You’d take his hands and guide him, rolling your eyes at his whistling when he grasps your waist and instantly brings you close to him. You try to attempt a few steps, but he’s having so much fun holding onto you and peppering you with kisses that you just laugh and let him. 

He’d try to show you some wildling dances he’s picked up, although they’re few and far between, and mostly ceremonial. Again, he’d have so much fun watching you that he’d get distracted and just want to hold you. 

At some point, when you’d all be gathered around a fire, someone brought up galas. You jokingly danced with Jon, who could somewhat remember the steps, and Tormund suddenly felt a little jealous. He got between the two of you, again holding to you and bringing you to his lap. He’d want to try it again, although he’d be quite drunk and would just end up holding you to him and swaying. You’d give him several kisses, all while whispering what sort of dresses you’d wear for him and how you two would dance. More than once you two would’ve been told to get a room.

[burnedbyshoto]

Hi, can you write a headcanon or a scenario about Todoroki Shouto having a girlfriend and he introduced her to his parents. Like how would Endeavor react to know that his beloved son already has a girlfriend. Thank you so much 😊😘

todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: endeavor LOL, fluff?, shouto and reader are like 25 btwwwww

word count: 1,882

a/n: so this is probably going to be my last fic for this week… i dont know, im moving back up to college and i was lazy and didnt get the number of requests needed done before hand… anyways anon, i really appreciated this ask it was super fun and interesting to write about because it really depended on my viewpoint of endeavor and shoutos future relationship. anyways so sorry this is late!!!! I had to go to the hospital because I had an allergic reaction to something LOL

“Are you sure this dress is appropriate? I don’t want to feel overdressed!” 

You were studying at yourself in the mirror with the tenth outfit you had tried on today. Shouto, who had approved of your summer floral dress, was taking you to introduce you to his family–well, his parents as you already met his siblings–after a bit over a year of dating. You sighed as Shouto called out his admiration of your outfit and carried that you had to be leaving soon if you didn’t want to be late.

You knew that Shouto was nervous to be on time because his mother was going to be there. Todoroki Rei had been released from the psychiatric hospital a few months ago and was settling back into the world. Had it been just Endeavor, well you weren’t sure if Shouto would have even agreed to go. Their relationship had definitely matured since Endeavor retired from being a Pro-Hero, but Shouto has still not forgiven him for anything.

Mumbling curses about your indecisiveness, you slipped on a pair of white wedges and stared at your reflection. Your makeup was done, minimalistic jewelry in place, hair was styled in your favorite semi-formal way, and your outfit was cute. Smiling to your reflection, you grabbed your purse and walked off to where Shouto was waiting for you. 

Shouto stood leaning on the hallway’s wall wearing black pants that accented his long legs, a coffee-colored blazer that made you want him to wear the color more often, and a plain copper-colored t-shirt under the blazer. “Mm,” Shouto approved happily as you gave a quick twirl, “You look stunning.”

“You don’t look too shabby either,” You respond as Shouto twirls you into his chest, his lips immediately connecting with yours and you smiled into the kiss. Feeling Shouto’s fingers tangling into your locks. 

“Don’t you dare.” You warn as Shouto’s mouth trails down your neck, you did not need any hickies appearing moments before meeting Rei and Endeavor.

“Fine,” Shouto relents as he pushes you away from his body, a smirk on his face as he stares at you. “You have got to wear this dress for a date next time.”

“I’ll think about it.” You reply as you clutch your boyfriend’s hand with yours leading him out of the apartment and to whatever restaurant everyone had agreed to meet up at.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

You were smiling way too much. 

Not in a good way either, but a bad way. This dinner outing was terribly awkward.

Endeavor–Todoroki-san–was sitting directly across from you at the end of the table, Fuyumi next to him with her girlfriend sitting next to her. Natsuo was the furthest away from Todoroki-san and had even placed his girlfriend directly across from him. You glanced over at Shouto who was talking with his mother, Rei, who sat next to him since you felt awkward taking the spot you knew Shouto wanted more.

So there you sat in a cute floral summer dress in shocking juxtaposition to the very formal looking Todoroki family, hell even Natsuo’s girlfriend was more formal appearing and she was wearing a club outfit. But there you sat smiling away whenever Todoroki-san’s eyes met yours.

God was he intimidating even without the flames coming out of his hair and beard.

“So, y/l/n, Shouto tells me that you’re not a Pro-Hero.” Todoroki-san finally states after the Todoroki siblings momentarily paused in their feuding over what was the worst way anyone of them was teased for their white hair.

Your head snapped over to Todoroki-san, your voice suddenly carrying no sound as you attempted to explain what it is that you did for a living. “I’m a, uh, I’m a–” You said attempting to find the words you were seeking, and you felt Shouto’s hand lay reassuringly onto your lap. “I’m a lawyer over at Deku’s Pro-Hero Agency.”

It was a job you were mighty damn proud of, your boss, being Midoriya Izuku was a total sweetheart and was an impressive client with cases that hardly needed you to have excruciating amounts of evidence for. 

“And what might your quirk be?”

“Endeavor–” Shouto snapped, absolutely not okay with this questionnaire, it was a family dinner, not an interrogation on you after all.

“Recall.” You answer back suddenly not nervous, easing yourself with your nerves of steel to take on your boyfriend’s unyielding father. “I can recall anything and everything I’ve experienced with 100-percent-perfection, and can, in fact, present them to other individuals. It makes me an amazing asset to have, because most Pro-Heroes, as you may recall, deal with cases caused by altered communication.” You paused grabbing Shouto’s hand from your lap and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Having me as the head lawyer makes people completely honest unless they are not aware of my quirk because as Deku-san’s lawyer they can not lie to us, as I can always bring up said events in court.”

Todoroki-san pulls away from his intense stare at you and does what you believe to see as a nod. But this small interaction caused Shouto to immediately switch seats with you, letting you sit next to Rei who gladly struck up a conversation with you that lasted through the entire night with dexterity.

At the end of the dinner, you actually were smiling out of joy. You really did enjoy Shouto’s sibling’s interactions, there hardly was a dull moment. Rei had been lovely to speak to, and being able to talk to the women Shouto loved more than anyone in the world was something that made you genuinely delighted. Things were going great.

The eight of you at the table eventually finished up dinner and were getting ready to retreat home, you went around and hugged everyone at the table, except Todoroki-san, and was delighted to have Rei hug you tightly.

“Take care of my baby boy, will you?” She whispered as she held you close, and you wordlessly nodded. “My biggest mistake in life was not being strong enough for him, but I think you are more than plenty strong.”

You felt your heart skip a painful beat as you pulled away, but there was still a joyful smile on Rei’s face as she went to hug Shouto. As Shouto placed a hand on your lower back ready to walk off with you into the night, someone called out for you.

“Y/l/n-san,” Todoroki-san spoke, and you turn your head to look at the head male of the family who seemed to be wearing a different expression then the cold look he seemed to adorn the entire evening. “Would you accompany me for a walk before you leave with my son.”

The entire group seems focused on your response, and you felt Shouto rearing to tell his father off and say you didn’t have to accompany you anywhere. Only you placed a hand on Shouto’s stomach and smiled up at your boyfriend who did not think well of his father’s invitation before he could react. “I would like that.”

You give a quick kiss to Shouto as you followed Todoroki-san out the door and into the night.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

The two of you walked in eery silence for a long time, your hands fastened in front of your body, ready for any question coming your way.

“If Shouto had introduced a girl like you to me years ago, I probably would have flipped,” Todoroki-san spoke finally, and you glanced up to see your boyfriend’s father staring up into the sky. “I’m well aware you know about what type of childhood Shouto lived, and your opinion on me as his father.”

“You don’t know my opinion.” You say in response, unsure of what he meant by that phrase, but it was something you did not wish to have put into your mouth.

“It’s the same as Midoriya-san’s, Yaoyorozu-san’s, Iida-san’s…” He paused probably only having remembered three of the influential friends that Shouto had, and you laughed softly knowing that you did, for the most part, agree with those three’s opinion on Todoroki Enji, but where they wanted Shouto to forgive and move on, you wanted Shouto to do what he felt was best. Sometimes those Pro-Heroes were a bit too selfless.

“I am a bit different from them,” You say honestly, meeting Todoroki-san’s gaze as you nod your head, “Whereas Shouto’s friends believe he should forgive you, I think that Shouto should choose whatever he feels like doing. Be it one day he hates you, or the next he doesn’t, I will support him regardless of my personal opinions towards you.”

He lets out a dry chuckle that held zero amusement to it.

“That is fair.” He agrees.

“I know it is.” You respond.

“I know you may not believe me, and I don’t blame you if you don’t, but I am trying hard to make things work.” He says gently, as if not to alarm you.

“By hosting dinner with your children’s significant others, and going as far as worrying the entire table when you asked questions that most people at the very least wait until after a proper conversation to have?” You inputted and Todoroki rolled his eyes, and you could not help but feel the same energy you got when Shouto got annoyed being replicated by his father.

“I’m sorry about that, it’s hard to turn the switch off sometimes.”

“And again, my opinion doesn’t matter,” You repeat, “I will abide by Shouto’s feelings and opinions, not my own when it comes to you.”

You can now see the Todoroki clan waiting for the two of you by the restaurant’s entrance as you have circled back.

The two of you walk in silence as you near closer and closer.

Moments before the two of you are in speaking distance to the group, Todoroki mutters something to you that you can’t help but take as a win.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad my son found someone like you,” Todoroki grumbles at you, “You make him happy, even I can tell that, even if your quirks are highly incompatible. Please keep him happy and love him, for both Rei and I.”

You stopped walking as Todoroki continued on, and you watched as Shouto walked over to you, his eyes darting back to his father’s retreating body as his sister, her girlfriend, and her mother. Natsuo and his girlfriend crossing the street and disappearing into the night.

You smiled warmly at Shouto who grabbed your arms, quickly studying your form as he checked for any and all signs of fighting or annoyance. “What did he say to you?”

You don’t respond as you go instead for a bold kiss, your arms snaking around his neck as he kisses you back. You sigh contently into Shouto’s mouth as he presses you softly onto his body. Your head tilts to the side as you deepen the kiss for mere moments before breaking apart with a rosy-cheeked grin.

Looking at him, you Recalled the memory, or at the very least the end part.

“Please keep him happy and love him, for both Rei and I.” Todoroki’s voice echoed in the memory you presented to Shouto and despite any harboring negative feelings Shouto may have had he smiles fondly.

“You do that perfectly already.”

i know i am typically really critical of endeavor because,,, yes, but i decided while i kept my criticalness of his character, I chose another route besides his typical: “fuck your girlfriend shouto! reproduce asexually please” because if shouto is introducing someone to his fam they are perfect, sorry but i dont make the rules

bonus!

“What would you have done in the worst case scenario of Endeavor not liking me?” You asked Shouto as the two of you were getting ready for bed.

“Probably would have told him off among other things.” Shouto admitted with a shrug as he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Telling him off and other things?” You question not all that sure what exactly your boyfriend meant by other things.

Shouto nodded pulling you in closer to his body as he chuckled, “My father is traditional, what better way of showing him that no amount of disapproval towards you will ever make me want you any less.” His lips gently touched the side of your neck with every word causing you to laugh.

“You spicy little rebel you.” You tease as Shouto smirks.

“Would you let this spicy little rebel show you to bed?”

“I approve of said action.”

And with that, he whisked you away.

[imperiuswrecked]

jsbahah,,, do you mind giving us your doom affection hcs?? like how he expresses love platonically and romantically idk im soft 💕ily and ur blog

Thank you! I appreciate and love every fan who pops into my inbox. :D

Platonic & Romantic soft affection Victor Von Doom headcanons:

(I’m going to preface this by saying that I usually think that Victor has a very hard time showing softer emotions because he keeps his cards close to his chest and very rarely shows affection in normal ways, for him it would be more like something: I didn’t kill you today so you can thank me now etc. However for the sake of these HC’s its more of how I think Victor would show soft emotions.)

Platonic

Victor doesn’t have friends so the people he pays attention to or seeks out to spend time with must be people he thinks are worthy of his time. His Loneliness drives him to make human connections but his Ego limits his choices to the ones who might be close to his level in some way, whether it is because they are Royalty, Extremely Smart, or Very Powerful. (Think; Namor, Reed, Strange) So often he will make excuses of why NOT to kill these people and deny it has anything to do with them meeting some aspect of his very high standards.

Spending down time with his friends people he tolerates would include either; Having Dinner and Conversations together, Playing Chess, showing up at the last minute to make sure they live through whatever dumbassery they have gotten themselves into.

Victor would 100% deny they are friends, he would proclaim very loudly for everyone to hear that he needs no one and then like use his jet pack to escape moments of emotional honestly, however he won’t ever really abandon the few people he tolerates. Doom likes for them to be in his his debt so saving their life is a good way for him to gain the upper hand and it’s totally not because he would be upset if someone other than him killed them, yup.

He would not say it, but he would take an interest in whatever they have an interest in, if they like reading a certain book Doom would read it so that way if conversation about it came up he could participate in it.

Victor has a lot of pets, from tigers to dogs, and he trains them not to kill you on sight so you can pet them.

Doom is Murder Friend. He is literally: “Who hurt you? They will die.” And will follow through with it unless he was made to swear not to kill them then Doom would only maim them (a lot).

Romantic

 It’s canon that Victor is very rich and always sends gifts, he thinks being impolite is crass and usually his gifts are very expensive impersonal things but for his S.O. he would have sent something that is very personal, in part because Victor has spied on them/watched them/gotten all the Intel he could on them and in part that he wants them to know he knows them well enough to send something personal. It would depend on the person but Victor might be very fond of his Blue Latverian Roses so sending that would be a big message to his S.O. Of course Doom being Doom a present might be jewels, or him choosing not to kill you, so it really depends on his mood.

Victor would wrap you up in his very warm cloak if you were feeling cold, one of my all time favorite headcanons is Doom’s S.O. (usually Namor) being very hurt/bleeding and Victor wrapping him up his cloak as he carries him back home to heal him.

Victor putting aside his experiments for the day to spend time with you.

Victor carefully choosing his best tunic/cloak to look extra handsome.

Victor has a thing about touch, he is very touch starved, so he would cherish every touch you give him, whether its touching his mask, or holding his armored hand. Victor standing on the ramparts of his castle and you coming up to gently lay your hand on his armored hand as you stare out across his kingdom would be something he would think about for years to come.

Victor sitting quietly with you, and just enjoying an evening in front of the fire while it snows outside.

Victor composing a new song in your honor to play for you.

Victor noting all your favorite meals to have made for you.

Victor stashing your favorite sweets in the castle to bring out on days you feel down.

Victor trying to say he loves you but he can’t because he has a hard time openly expressing that because people he loved has in some way been taken from him (his mother, and father) so instead he would say something like: You are important to me.

Victor letting you touch his scars, like that would be the ultimate sign of trust, and him being very still so that you have time to explore his face and decide if you really want to stay now that you have seen what he really looks like.

Victor choosing to save your life over his world domination plans. (Listen he will just postpone those plans, he can take over the world another day)

Victor taking off his gauntlet to touch your hair with his bare hand, letting his fingers run through them.

Victor allowing you to hug him, he probably won’t return the hug but he won’t throw you off right away either.

Victor creating a room in his castle that is just for you, like your own space outside of your bedroom, and he won’t enter unless you wish it because he wants you to have a space that you are comfortable in.

Victor finally calling you by your first name after calling you by your last name/formal title for a long time.

Finally the ultimate sign of affection/trust would be entrusting you to care for his people and his country if anything should happen to him because regardless of what Marvel says I think Victor cares very deeply for his home land and his people. I really think that the Latverians would have been the closest thing to Victor’s heart for a very long time, so they are a part of him an extension of him in some way.

[summoner-kentauris]

im not editnig this because its 1 am and i have to work tomorrow suffice to say it almost certainly got errors

i would call this emotional h/c ish territory. people having messy problems but coming out of it okay. alfonse dealing/not dealing with his hel curse. al and zash dealing with the fact that no one wrote him lettterrrrrrssss. no one was more surprised than me to find this one ends positively

-

Alfonse Gustavsvin, First Sword of the Order of Heroes and Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Askr has made some serious mistakes in his life.

Not the kind of mistakes his father would have called mistakes. Not the little things he’d once dragged himself over the coals for. Those things that Kiran calls “healing” to forget.

No, he’s his own man now, or at least he’s trying to be, and in that vein he can admit that he, himself, has made mistakes. Little ones, like sneaking away to practice, when he should have been balancing books, and causing a few hours headache for Anna when she had to do it late at night. Normal ones, like letting Kiran fly the Aether castle. He’s even made some big ones.

He’s not sure what category to class forgetting to tell Zacharias about that tiny small thing with Hel and all that.

He doesn’t even realize he’s made said mistake until he’s face to face with Zacharias again, and Zash is bleeding from a nasty cut on his head, and his shirt is torn and he’s sweating and wincing and grabbing a rib and begging the Order to help his sister-

That’s when it hits. He didn’t tell Zacharias. By the level of desperation in his voice, no one had.

Alfonse finds he doesn’t curse very often unless its around Zacharias, and he really has to work hard at it then, because, well, shit.

He tries to break the news as diplomatically as he can.

He can recognize Zacharias by his lance work alone.

He doesn’t need to see Zacharias’ eyes to read heartbreak.

-

He’s not surprised that Zacharias doesn't seek out the healers that night. He’s seen the what Bunrun- Spring Bruno can do with a staff. Fuck. Another thing Zacharias doesn’t know.

Focus on breaking the news about an amnesiac bunny summon version of him later.

Death first.

Zacharias sits, peculiarly still, as far away from camp as he can get. The cut on his head looks better than it had looked, which is nonetheless worse than it ought to. He doesn’t touch Zacharias. He believes him about the curse, really, he does, even if often his heart doesn’t want to. Wants him back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because if there’s one thing thinking you were gonna die in nine days did for you, it was help you be a little less equivocating. “I should have told you.”

“You were busy,” Zacharias says, simply, without looking over at him. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You were busy, meaning, someone had told him the whole story before Alfonse had got to him. You were busy,meaning, Zacharias is always making up a narrative in his head. There’s nothing to apologize for, meaning, inevitably Zash is writing himself out of that narrative. Again.

Alfonse sighs.

“What were you told?” he says, in lieu of anything better.

“It matters not.” Zacharias goes to rise. “I must-”

“Sit down, Zach,” he says, maybe with more force and less weariness than he thought, because Zacharias does immediately. He almost looks surprised. It would be funny, if Alfonse wasn’t so tired.

“When all this is over,” he says, without thinking, “I’m going with you.”

Zacharias turns and stares at Alfonse through his mask for a long, long moment.

“What?”

He can’t match his stare. Not with the mask on. Not when something that hurts and stretches is unfolding itself, like a spine clicking.

So he doesn’t. The heavy night is deep. It looks endless, but only because its so dark. There’s no way to see a beginning, so there’s certainly no way to see an end.

Zacharias makes a huffing sound. “You can’t come with me. Alfonse, you can’t, I- the curse alone.”

“Nine days.” The voice doesn’t sound like his own. “Nine days.”

Zacharias falls silent. Alfonse feels silent, too, except he’s talking, so he can’t be. He’s moving his hands, so he must still be here.

“I didn’t want to see you,” he says. “So I didn’t tell you.”

Fool that he is, he doesn’t realize its true until he’s saying it. Until its real and invisible in the night air.

Zacharias sucks in a breath, but doesn’t say anything.

“I wanted to think,” he continues, “that I didn’t want you to see me like that. But it’s not true, is it? I didn’t want to see you, to see you and know you were-”

He cuts himself off when he realizes what he means to say. But, there are mistakes, and then there are mistakes.

And he misses his friend.

“…right,” he finishes. “Curses can be solved by death.”

“I know,” Zacharias says, after a beat. His tone is calm, even. “I’ve known that for some time. You know I believe that. So, then… what’s truly troubling you?”

“It’s funny, right?” That’s answer enough, right? “Nine days and all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to show me up.”

“Mm hm,” Zacharias mms. “And the truth, this time?”

Alfonse snorts. “What makes you think that’s not?”

If Zacharias cracks a smile, Alfonse chooses not to notice it out of the corner of his eye. None of this is funny.

“You’re clenching your left hand, where you usually hold your shield. I thought you’d broken that tell?”

He does laugh at that. His laugh doesn’t sound right. It sounds hurt. Why is he the hurt one?

“This isn’t… this isn’t funny,” he tries.

He’s not prepared for Zacharias to lightly reach out to touch his face. He’s not prepared to notice, suddenly, the tears that have begun making their way from his own eyes. He’s not prepared for feeling like someone has shoved Fólkvangr through his heart.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why am I… why am I crying?”

“Oh, Alse,” Zacharias says, and then nothing else. He’s too busy pulling Alfonse into his arms, hugging him tightly, pulling his head close and holding him.

Alfonse doesn’t know why he’s crying. He doesn’t know why he can’t stop.

“I don’t… I don’t...”

Zacharias doesn’t say anything. Not when Alfonse starts making choking ugly crying sounds, not when Kiran and Sharena show up in a panic and he waves them off. Not when Alfonse finally beings to quiet into something he can pretend isn’t weeping.

Zacharias is quiet for a long, long time, until there is only the sounds of distant camp, and restless insects.

“Did you kill it?”

It takes Alfonse a moment to realize where he is, that someone is speaking, that it’s Zacharias who’s speaking.

“Hel?” he adds.

Alfonse carefully works his way out of Zacharias’ arms. It’s so cold in the night, but… “I… yes.”

“Good.”

Mistakes he’s made, that he keeps on making. He wishes he could go back. It’s so cold in the night.

“We were supposed to be together. It was supposed to be Embla, supposed to be together-”

“Aren’t we?”

The interruption throws Alfonse for a second. He swivels to look at Zacharias. Masked as always. And yet, Alfonse can feel Zacharias’ eyes on him.

“Aren’t we what?”

“Together. You and I. You’re here. I’m here. We’re here. That counts, doesn’t it?”

It’s like the earlier not-crying has wrung all the words out of him. “I...”

“I’ve learned a lot, being away,” Zacharias says. He looks back out across the night. “Very little has been useful, I think. Some of it, though… Does it matter?”

He turns back to face Alfonse abruptly. “Does it matter? That you didn’t tell me? I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t. I’m so ill of it, so… does it matter? Can I choose to let it go?”

“I...” Alfonse doesn’t like feeling dizzy. Doesn't like feeling cold. Wishes someone was hugging him again. Wishes it was Zacharias. “It’s not that simple, I…”

“There’s too much complicated in the world, Alse. There’s so, so much of it. I… know not what deserve is, or what right is, but I find myself wanting to ask all the same: can we be simple again? Let’s be easy. Let’s let it all go and just…”

“I didn’t write you.”

“And I wasn’t there,” he counters. “And next time, something will happen and you’ll run off without me and it will be the end of the world, and I won’t be there and you didn’t tell me. You hurt, I hurt, none of it’s our fault. So hang it all. It’s been a decade. If neither of us is going to change, do you really think our feelings will?”

“I thought I was going to die,” Alfonse says. His voice sounds small. He can’t bring himself to hate it. “I thought I would never see you again. So I though it would be easier to just accept it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a man who stood in a bunny costume and promised to kill a god for me, now does it.”

A spark of an emotion that’s not empty despair.

“This- this isn’t funny!”

Zacharias smiles a bit. “Apologies. My sense of humor has been warped by the voice in my head, you know, the one that regularly demands I disembowel everyone I’ve ever loved.”

He can’t stand this cold. “Hold me, please.”

And Zacharias does, without a pause.

He falls into a running a hand through Alfonse’s hair. It’s soothing, in a way Alfonse hasn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe ever.

“It truly isn’t that simple, is it?”

Zacharias talks to the open air. Alfonse doesn’t want to leave the warm he’s found in order to look at him, so he doesn’t.

“No,” he agrees. “It isn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Zacharias says. His hand doesn’t falter in Alfonse’s hair. “I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

“Me too.”

That’s pretty simple, Alfonse thinks as they sit there. Two people, being sorry that they can’t properly care for the person they care about. None of it really their fault at the end of the day.

“Alright,” he says, suddenly. “We’ll let it go.”

“Mm?”

He leans up. He untangles himself.

“You’re right,” he repeats. “I promised we’d kill gods together. But, if we’re going to be defiant, well… oughtn’t we do it right?”

Zacharias tilts his head. “What?”

“I was so afraid,” he says, simply. “No more. Damn the gods. I chose you.”

Zacharias’ smile flickers, then settles into something softer and more familiar. “And if we fail?”

“Hm.” Alfonse settles back into Zacharias arms, it feels different, somehow. Less like running. “Well, we’re still young, you and I. Plenty of time to make some interesting mistakes.”

At that, Zacharias genuinely laughs, and then relaxes. He goes back to fiddling with Alfonse’s hair, and, frankly-

Frankly, he’s had a shit day, but in that moment he’s never felt better.

[flopity-flips]

Hi I was wondering if I could request something with Prompto? (If your taking requests!) I've been feeling lonely and awful and friend-less, I know it's probably just my brain fucking with me but it's still no fun, so could I request Prompto comforting reader when they confess to feeling like no one truly likes them or wants them around, maybe even going as far as to say that they think he only hangs around them because he feels bad for them? And maybe Prom then confesses his feelings for them?

this is so ebic im gonna do more requests wooooo. feel free to send more. i might start doing shorter ones.

The bed was the most comfort and warmth she had received in a while. While she weren’t exactly the most popular, she wasn’t exactly sans friends; however, it was difficult for someone like her, depressed, anxious, to feel like she had any friends, no matter how few or how little she knew she had in reality.

She sniffled and rolled over to the other side of her bed, facing the wall and hugging her pillow, letting it absorb the tears. She didn’t know why, but a wave of loneliness had overcome her. That familiar feeling of being unlovable, to everyone including herself possesed her. The rational part of her knew she was wrong, she didn’t like hersefl too much, nor did she like being by herself, but she did have at least a few people who loved her. 

Why was it always so hard for her? Why didn’t the people around her like her? Why was it that she were almost invisible to them?

She wept as a billion self-deprecating questions and answers flooded her mind, grabbing her phone from the other side of the bed to try and distract herself to stop the tears. When the screen illuminated, she saw a message from her best friend, Prompto. She began to cry even more at that.

Every second spent with Prompto made her feel like she was on cloud nine; yes she was in love, but it was never to be requited. Prompto was so perfect, so wonderful, so handsome. Even his flaws, both physical and personality wise, were so beautiful and added to his handsome appeal in her eyes. 

But him being with her was such a preposterous idea. She was nothing like him, nor was she someone worthy of having his wonderful, gentle, loving heart poured out into her hands, for her to cherish and love; no, not at all, when, in her eyes, her heart was a disgusting, selfish, needy heart that was too much for anyone to handle. I mean, why else would no one want her around? 

It was obviously due to her constant desire to be loved by her friends and to have her friends love her. And that overbearing desire that was currently clenching her heart, keeping her from replying to the message at the moment, would keep her from having his heart as her own in the long term.

Pushing her beliefs about her compared to him aside, she tapped on the notification banner and typed out a message, opting not to read his reply from an earlier conversation of theirs, rather, she typed out a message, one of seeking validation, love, and care which she so desperately needed in the moment.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with my head, man.” She tapped send.

The three dots popped up before his reply appeared on her screen.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not. I’m so alone. It’s tearing my heart apart.”

“You know I hate it when you talk like that. I mean, we’re friends, right? Or am i just chopped liver? ;)”

She sighed at that last question.

“I’m sorry. I know we’re friends, you mean the world to me, I love being around you. It’s just. It’s hard to feel loved when… No one’s really showing that they love you.”

The three dots indicating his typing did not pop up quickly in usually Prompto fashion, just a little checkmark next to the textbox indicating he had received and read the message. However, his reply came in time.

“Hey can I come over? I don’t want you being alone.”

A little shocked at his words and sudden desire to meet, she typed out her reply.

“I guess. I look and feel like shit right now but if you want to, knock yourself out.”

“Great cause I’m already out front.”

She blinked a few times, re-reading the message; sure the two were relatively nearby, but this was fast even for Prompto.

She heard the opening of her entrance door and the familiar, gentle voice belonging to the object of her affections.

“Hey, it’s me, I’m not a burglar. I’m taking my shoes off and coming in, okay?” He called, announcing his presence.

She chuckled a little at his opening, but turned away from facing her door, pillow still being clutched tightly against her chest as a form of comfort and defense. She heard the creak of the door to her room opening and tensed at it and the soft footsteps approaching her bed.

The weight felt right in front of her back was no doubt that of Prompto’s. He placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed circles with his thumb in order to comfort her.

“Hey…” He gently spoke, the tenderness in his voice not apparent to her.

“Why’d you come?” She softly inquired, not so much mad, just confused as to why he’d want to be around her.

“I… I get it. I know it’s hard. I mean, you know I grew up alone. I didn’t get much love. And I mean, I’m friends with the guys, but I feel isolated around them a lot just because I’m not like them. I just don’t want you to be alone when you feel most alone,” he explained.

She tried to even her breath, but it was just getting worse as he spilled his heart to her, his hand moving back and forth across her shoulder now. He shifted so that he was laying behind her on the bed, hugging her tightly, burying his face in her back to muffle her loud sobs.

“What I’m trying to say is… Even if you don’t feel like someone out there loves you or you just feel alone, even when you’re surrounded by friends,” he paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’ll always be there. To love you and help you feel less alone. Because you mean so much to me, much more than you’ll ever know.”

She got up, gently brushing him off her, turning around to face him, eyes red and puffy, cheeks shining with tears streaking down her face. 

“You mean it?” She asked.

Prompto didn’t respond at first, lost at looking at her.

“Prompto?” She inquired, voice softer.

His face turns red in realization and he put his hands in his face and begins laughing nervously.

“I didn’t mean to say that but, yeah. I meant it. I ultra meant it. Crownsguard’s honor. I’m like… stupid in love with you,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

You looked at him, mouth slightly agape, before giggling.

“Hey why are you laughing! I thought you were sad! Come on man… I spilled my heart ‘cause you spilled yours,” he whined, playing with the longer end of his fringe, still avoiding eye contact.

You calmed down, wiping your tears and smiling.

“No, no. It’s just… Accidentally confessing is such a you way of confessing. I love it,” you looked to him, continuing. “I love you too.”

He looked at you, eyes widening before scooping you up in a big hug.

“Really! That’s like… I can’t think of the words! It’s like… super cash money!” He exclaimed.

You snorted in his arms and sighed, nuzzling in his chest.

“I like you a ton…” You muttered. “Y’know? I don’t feel so lonely anymore…”

Prompto pulled away and gasped dramatically.

“My love cured you!”

You snorted once more at his antics.

“Yes. Yes it did.”

[musedblues]

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 3]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You're working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life's greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warnings:  A few mentions of panic attacks, and getting sick a but also dare I say a bit of fluff?!

w/c: 6k

a/n: This has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far. Thank you for all the lovely feedback, lads!

taglist: @im-an-adult-ish​ @mrsmazzello​ @lettinggosthehardestpart​ @the-moving-finger-writes​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​

Part 4

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

On the walk across the street with your mother, carrying matching bottles of wine, you worried this Christmas Eve was going to be dramatically different than all others that came before it. That you were too far out of the loop to ever fit back in.

But you were at ease the second you passed through the Mazzellos front door. Joe and his mother were the only people bustling around the kitchen, so early in the evening. You'd expected tonight's reunion with your old friend to be even more sensational than the last, but it wasn't. Joe simply greeted you with a grin, taking the bottle of wine from your clutch and spinning around to find a cork right away. Your mothers began spouting gossip near the already set up table, while Joe poured the two of you a drink.

As you followed your old friend toward the living room, you couldn't help but notice how alarmingly normal this routine seemed. This felt much more like coming home than landing at the airport to your teary-eyed mother had, for some reason.

But lots had changed since the last time you'd spent celebrating with the Mazzellos. And you couldn't wait any longer to hear about the things Joe mentioned being apart of the last you saw him. Not long after you settled on the sofa to the tune of his exciting storytelling, you asked for faces to match the names of his new cast of friends he had yet to stop buzzing over. Joe wasted no time pulling up a group photo of himself mixed in with a pretty bunch of actors.

"Lucy is actually the funniest person I know, besides yours truly of course." Joe boasted about a girl who looked as if she was made of porcelain. You had no reason to doubt she was just as flawless in real life. Before you could ask more of her, Joe was already on a roll. "Ben is the love of my life. I mean, come on, look at the guy." Joe proceeded to ramble for a long time about the blonde, telling you how the man with emerald eyes was a loyal and passionate friend, someone Joe had come to trust and admire. "Rami, well, you know him, don't you?" Joe shrugged, glancing your way as he sipped some wine. Oh yeah, you did. The guy was in another production with Joe, back when he facetimed you weekly. Rami had ended up in the background of enough of those facetimes to give you a few meaningful greetings when you called to check-up. You wondered if the superstar remembered you at all. "And Gwilym is-" "Welsh?" You let out a breath of a laugh. Gwilym. There's a name you'd hadn't even known existed until a few summers ago when some old fella down the road kept getting his mail switched up with yours. Joe matched your unexpected chuckle with one of his own, almost like he wasn't sure if he should have acknowledged your remark. So you just shrugged and offered your friend a small grin "Small world."

Thankfully, Joe's muddled expression softened. As you began to wonder one thousand things, he went on...

"He is the best of us. Heart of gold." Joe's bragged as the pair of you focused on his phone screen. There the five of them were, all dressed up, strutting across a lavish purple carpet. Just when you both polished off your glasses of wine, the doorbell rang. Cousins and aunts and uncles started to show up with dessert trays and gift bags. Most of them remembered your name and hugged you like always. It was almost like no time had ever passed, like this Christmas Eve picked up where the last one you attended left off. The most exciting reunion came just before dinner time as Joe's siblings showed up.

John and Mary arrived together, with their spoused and gaggle of children, all of whom you'd never met. A couple of the more rambunctious kids raced up to their grandmother, while John stopped in his tracks when he noticed you.

Growing up, you went to all of his baseball games. You helped him with his homework and bought him birthday presents. He might as well have been your own little brother. But since you'd graduated, Joe's updates about his kid brother stopped coming when his own did, too.

"Oh my God!" John practically tackled you in a hug that everyone around you chuckled over. "I didn't, why did- when did you come back?" John laughed, clearly surprised by your random appearance at Christmas Eve dinner for the first time in forever.

"Is this really happening?" Mary moved toward you. She was pretty as ever, dark hair and bright eyes. You always looked up to her, and she always looked out for you. She rescued you from bad first dates, taught you how to drive and told you highschool secrets, like your own older sister. Now, she shoved John away and hugged you even tighter. You wondered how you'd gone all this time without seeking Mary's counsel and support.

Both of their spouses watched on in confused glee, happy that everyone else was so happy. John's wife was the first to bite.

"Hi! I'm Eva." The pretty brunette smiled at you but cocked her head, clearly lost to why her husband was so excited to see you. Then she said, "How long have you and Joe been...?" Eva pointed to where your best friend stood in the archway of the kitchen, and your mother let out a chortle in passing.

"Ah yes..." You turned to Joe with a sly smile. Maybe you'd been sipping too much pre-dinner wine.  "I'll never forget the day he untied me from those train tracks!" You reached out to latch onto Joe in a comical way, and even though he winced for show, he held onto you like he might have actually wanted too.

"Who's the actor here, y/n?" Mrs. Mazzello joked, batting your arm with a laugh.

"Joe has just been using me for my many talents all these years. I taught him everything he knows." You shrugged with one arm still looped around your friend's neck.

"Those were the days." Joe reminisced with a snicker, keeping his relaxed hold around you.

John was quick to disperse your make-believe bubble to explain to his wife exactly who you were.

"This is y/n. The girl in all our pictures in the hallway." John gestured toward the corner where dozen of snapshots hung of their family at parties and graduations. A handful of which you and your mother happened to sneak into the background of over the years. "She's practically a Mazzello."

"Oh my God." Eva's face fell, and she turned to you with a serious gaze. "I'm so sorry, I've heard so much about you but never- oh, come here." And she pulled you into a hug all the same. John and Mary gathered their excited offspring and made them each introduce themselves to you, well besides the tiniest babies who couldn't. You barely had time to gush over the families before dinner was served.

Everyone devoured plates full of well-cooked food, laughing over things you somehow still understood. Christmas hadn't felt so warm in years. You and Joe moved through even more wine, sharing glances like a secret code when his weird uncle started rambling about politics. When dinner was over, everyone was still happy to linger around together.

When everyone gathered in the living room, you excused yourself to the bathroom. On your trip back down the hallway, a tiny giggle stopped you from rejoining the party just yet. Mary's littlest babe was clinging to the open doorway of Mr. Mazzello's office, a space with oak bookshelves and a writing desk to match. Joe's father could be found there, working until it was time for dinner.

The baby was babbling, pointing into the dark office. He stumbled into the shadows and turned his head before he shifted and looked at you. The baby screwed his brows together and started to ask a question using the only syllables he knew to use.

And somehow, you realized he was looking for Joe's dad. The little boy spun in the doorway again before he wobbled right toward you. Simultaneously, Mary floated down the hall with a baby bag over her shoulder. She must have been looking for the kid. He was reaching up and pulling on your sweater, now.

"I think he wants to go in there." You spoke softly, watching Mary's baby point back toward the dark office. When you looked back up toward Mary her eyes were glossy. She shared a silent glance with you before she bent down to her boy's level. He kept babbling and waving back toward the office.

"He's not there, sweetheart," Mary whispered, smoothing back her baby's hair and breaking your heart. She lifted the kid to her hip and cocked her head, a signal for you to follow.

The office was warm and smelt like cinnamon, not because of Christmas time, but because it always did. Mary flicked the Tiffany lamp on and the room filled with spots of amber light. There were papers scattered on the desk and a chair filled some costumes in the corner like someone was meant to come in and do work at any moment.

"Dad used to let the kids sit in here while he worked." Mary sniffled, while the baby in her arms reached out to touch the book shelve before him. It was filled with awards and photos and crafts.

"I was always afraid to come in and interrupt business." You breathed a laugh, floating closer to monitor the shelve. Right between a photo of Joe and his father at the grand canyon, and a handpainted candle vase, something caught your eye.

There was a Polaroid. You had a camera for a month before one of your friends stole it. With it, someone had taken a photo of you with Joe's dad at play practice. Joe was away that summer, filming and you needed something to do. Your highschool was putting on a production of Grease, the ancient choir director conveniently passed away a week before your first rehearsal, so Joe's dad stepped in to help, last minute. Somehow you ended up as a Pink Lady, without a name or any lines. Joe's dad let you keep that jacket. You gave the Polaroid to Mr. Mazzello as thanks, during the wrap party. Despite having no lines, you were a shite actor, but Joe's dad took it easy on you. That was just one example of the way he'd always sort of looked out for you, you realized.

Mary noticed the photo your gaze was fixated on and said: "You're family, y/n. And I'm glad you're back home."

You couldn't tell if she knew what you'd been through but above all things, you knew Mary was wise enough to read you like she always had. Her baby had retracted away from curiosity and curled into his mother's arm. She noted that it was probably bedtime for all the kids and started to leave her father's old office. You were left alone to turn the light off. Leaving that room on your own terms was the first goodbye you'd said in months that brought you any kind of peace.

///

Your mother left home in a sequined shaw with a camera around her neck. At midnight, a new year would begin, but someone was getting married before then. She invited you along to help take photos, But just days before, you'd made plans of your own. With Joe. He said there were some people from town throwing a party and he'd been invited long ago. Joe asked you to join him, saying something about how he probably would only go if you came along. Something about that made you agree.

So you slipped into some old dress you'd bought in Wales and made a mental note to go on a shopping spree, soon. Joe showed up at your door, dressed for the occasion too. Tonight felt like more of a step outside of your comfort zone, than a simple New Year's Eve party. But even so, falling back into your old spot at Joe's side was natural, and you didn't have time to dwell on the inner workings of things while he sang along to some old Britney Spears album the entire car ride, begging you to join in. By the time you arrived at the party, you almost forgot that Joe's version of carpool karaoke wasn't the main event of the evening.

He kept one hand steady on your shoulder as you walked from the parking lot and into some modernly styled club. Inside, clear bulbs were strung from one sleek pilar to another. One too many bodies occupied the dance floor while those left behind took up nearly every table and booth insight. Joe directed you toward the bar top where two miraculously free seats called your names.

Just then, someone recognized your friend. A tall man in a dark suit called Joe's name as you eased onto the bar stool. You didn't recognize the guy, and the bartender was asking what you wanted. So you ordered two of the same bourbons and turned back to see Joe rolling his eyes while the stranger was walking away.

"I can never remember his name," Joe admitted, leaning toward you. You chuckled and started to respond when another voice cut through the crowd.

"Joey!" The high pitched squeak hurt your head, and when you turned to see who it belonged to, nothing made sense. Lacy Duval was prancing toward the both of you in a tight sparkly dress. The only thing you knew about Lacy Duval, was that in high school, she was two grades below you, but somehow always ended up mingling with everyone in your class. So it wasn't surprising to see she'd recognized one of you, but it was a bit unsettling to see how excitedly Lacy dashed your way. And it was furthermore of a shock to you to find Joe waving to her with a wide smile, like they'd really known each other.

"I'm so glad you could make it, I've been looking around for you all night!" The girl with silvery blonde hair and a matching bright smile gushed. The bartender slid your drink near your elbow and you grinned his way as thanks.

"Well, it is only 9:30." Joe laughed. Then he reached over and rested a hand on your knee. "You remember y/n right?"

"Of course I do." Lacy turned her smile toward you.

"Hi, Lacy." You smiled back, raising your bourbon for a sip. Another set of faces emerged from the party, and you vaguely recognized them. They knew your name and warmly greeted you. But their interest lied in Joe, of course. They talked him into coming with them to meet someone on the other side of the room.

"Don't worry, I'll save your spot!" Lacy giggled in a way that made you kind of want to leave and go back home. But you just sipped your bourbon and smiled at Joe when he turned to you with a sorry shrug. Lacy slinked past Joe as the strangers pulled him in their tow. Somehow while the only person you knew disappeared into the crowd, you managed to down your bourbon until it was gone. You asked for another.

Then, without prompt or consent, Lacy crossed her silky legs and began to tell you a story you never asked to hear. She explained how a couple of summers ago, Joe was in town filming his very own movie. You knew all about it. You were still in touch with him then. But according to Lacy, she was there. She twirled her hair around a finger while she told you how Joe and his cast would sometimes stop in the all-night diner she worked at back then, and how she would hang around with them when no other customers stopped in. According to Lacy, Joe personally invited her to the wrap party.

"We hung out a lot." Lacy propped her elbow on the bar and her head in her hand. "We didn't see much of each other until his dad got sick, or whatever. We did hang out more when he was home for that."

Your bourbon was gone again. So you asked for a shot of whiskey.

"About time he showed up tonight." Lacy smiled, her teeth sparkling like the glitter her dress was made of. "We've had plans."

"Well, Happy New Year." You smiled. Was she finally done talking?  Someone just as scantily clad and pretty spotted Lacy and hurried up to her for a hug. Your whiskey arrived as the girls scurried into the crowd arm in arm without so much as a goodbye your way. You watched Lacy work the room as she moved through it, keeping that giant smile turned up all the way even when no one was looking. Before you could look away, Joe appeared as if he was making his way back to the bar. Lacy had spotted him too, apparently, and moved like a cheetah to corner him on the dance floor.

So, you were alone now. You could be home alone, but you weren't so, you took your shot of whiskey to try and calm your nerves. This party was way out of your league. You didn't know anyone, not even the people who seemed to vaguely remember you. And the music was pretty obnoxious. But as soon as these thoughts plagued you, a familiar face came into view. Some boy you'd known from high school took Lacy's spot on the barstool at your side. He was your first student, the year you taught your peers to play the piano for some extra cash, freshman year. The guy seemed genuinely glad to see you now, and you had always wondered what happened to him after high school. After catching up for a while, asking a few questions you always wanted to ask him, the guy had one of his own.

"Aren't you married, or something? The last time I saw Joe, he said you were living with some guys in the UK."

Whoa, you were not ready for that one. You sort of hoped everyone had decided you fell off the face of the earth. That thought always eased your mind when it began to wonder what people might ask you, when you moved back home. You hadn't properly prepared an answer for times like these...

"Oh, nope not married." You managed to remain cool under pressure, as the guy nodded in understanding. But of course, he didn't really understand. And he didn't know your throat was going dry at the thought of Kris. You politely excused yourself and headed toward the restrooms.

It wasn't even eleven o'clock, yet but the place was packed with party animals and the only people your recognized were across the floor. Lacy was looping her arm around Joe as she motioned for him to meet someone you couldn't see. The rest of the crowd were blank faces.

Maybe it was the drinks you'd downed so quickly. Or the fact that you still felt like shite at the simple thought of what happened to Kris. You had stopped missing him sometime long before he died; when he skipped town on your last birthday and gave you a present a few months later like an afterthought. That's when you really stopped feeling much for Kris at all. But you never got to end things between the two of you on your own terms. That left a million unimportant arguments burning in the back of your mind. By now, you were just pissed that the situation still had such a massive effect on you. Tonight being no exception at all,

Thank God the restroom was empty. You hurried toward the yellow stalls and prayed no one heard you getting sick. The tile floor was sticky and it hurt your knees. Every moment of this night was more uncomfortable than the last... After some time, you stood to better yourself but felt still felt dizzy as you leaned against the sink counter. The party boomed on and your head pounded. Then the bathroom door creaked open.

"Y/n?" Lacy's shrill pitch echoed through the tiled walls. You felt nauseous again.

"Yeah?" You tried to sound normal, bringing the back of your hand to your lips.

"Did you just...?" She trailed off, and you could only muster a tiny nod before hurrying back to the stall to barf again. Lacy's heels clicked toward the door and it slammed shut. Who would want to watch some girl throw up alone on New Year's Eve? You took your sweet time drinking from the faucet and taking deep breaths in the mirror. You decided that the moment you stepped foot back in the party that you were going to have a good time. Or at least pretend a little harder too.

But after you pushed open the restroom door and started to walk into the crowd, a hand grabbed you and spun you back around. It belonged to Joe, and he was pulling you toward the exit.

"We're going home." Joe decided loudly over the annoyingly loud music.

"Oh no, why?" You pretended to dread. He only pulled you close and guided you through the front doors. A few strangers watched on as you left before midnight. The city streets were empty and quiet, and Joe's car looked warm form the outside.

"Lacy said you got sick?"

"Oh, yeah." You shrugged. Your goal wasn't to ruin the party. "We don't have to leave because of me." You felt sick again.

"First of all yes we do. It wouldn't be fun if you feel bad. Secondly, it was already no fun. They were only playing Katy Perry."  Joe seemed truly disturbed. You had to laugh. The ride back home was quiet.

Joe parked outside your front door and followed behind as you walked up your porch steps. You stalled with your hand on the doorknob and announced that you planned on starting the new year off with a bubble bath. But declaring the peaceful plan didn't make you feel any less horrid. Then Joe softly assured you that he'd be across the street if you need him.

"You aren't gonna go back to the party?" You wondered. Why wouldn't he?

"Why would I?" Joe furrowed his brow, truly confused. You only chuckled and shook your head as you slowly twisted your doorknob and thanked Joe one last time. Then you went inside, even though it looked like Joe had something to say. He could tell you in the morning, you thought.

You felt better in the stillness of your home, surrounded by warm bubbles and candlelight. You changed your sheets and put on an oversized sweatshirt from Australia, one Joe shipped you as a Christmas gift the year he spent filming there. You watched the time on your phone turn to midnight and wondered if Tegan was having a good time. Last year, she helped you throw a party in the pub, and you didn't shut down until five a.m. This year you were snug in bed, high off the scent of your freshly cleaned sheets and relishing the quiet.

You must have succumbed to sleep, but it wasn't long before you shot awake with a tightness in your chest. Sometimes the nightmares faded as quickly as they appeared, leaving you with a racing heart all the while. It was still quiet and you were still alone. Your phone read two in the morning, and there was a text from your mother announcing she booked a room across the city after her wedding shoot. She wished you a happy new year, and that's when everything really started to crumble for you.

Something about being all alone, in a new space and time made your throat close. Your hands buzzed and tears stung your eyes. Every time you tried to close them, the worse your heart sped up. You had no choice but to let yourself cry a little but still couldn't fall asleep when you learned to breathe again. So you scrolled mindlessly through your phone hoping the internet would distract you long enough to fall asleep again.

Your Instagram feed was flooded with photos of friends in new year party hats with drinks in hand. There was a video of someone's baby comically dancing to auld lang syne, and a series of firework boomerangs. Then- a picture that caused your eyes to roll.

You didn't even realize you were following Lacy Duval. But lo and behold, the newest post on your feed was one of her very own. It was a selfie of her and Joe, from tonight. Her arm was tight around his neck, and he looked happy under the red-tinted lights. There were a few hundred likes, and the first comment you saw, read: "You two again! Looking good as ever."

What the hell did that mean? You wondered enough to click on Lacy's profile. Sure enough, between rows of facetuned selfies, there was a slew of photos of Joe on Lacy's feed. One photo of him wearing her bedazzled sunglasses, another of the two of them sharing a booth at the diner Lacy mentioned before.

Your bedroom suddenly felt like a trap, like your mind wasn't the issue. You felt like you did when you'd been grounded as a kid. So you got out of bed and descended the staircase, flipping a lamp on in the living room. Somehow the change of scenery completely changed your mood. You sank into the sofa among decorative pillows and a quilt you'd left behind some days before.

You nestled there, flipping on the tv and decided to play Parks and Recreation in search of a reason to smile. Then your phone buzzed from the coffee table where you tossed it. It was a text, from Joe.

Hey, you still up?

You glanced up to the telly, then back down at your phone, wondering why he was. You had just been on social media. Maybe Joe noticed you were active. Maybe he'd gone back to the party after all.

Yep. You good?

A few minutes passed until he responded again.

Want some company?

A tiny laugh escaped your throat. Why would he want to come over at two in the morning? You couldn't understand how Joe had known to offer his company in this moment when you felt the loneliest you had in a long while. You could help but type back that you were unlocking the door and for him to come in whenever he felt like, if he really did.

You sat back down among the den of comforts that was your old sofa, and watched Parks and Recreation with a wandering mind. You weren't even sure what you'd been thinking of until the front door jostled open, and you snapped back from your zone out.

"Happy New Year!" Joe excitedly boasted. He was dressed in joggers and an old sweatshirt, and he held a paper sack close to his chest as he shut the door behind him.

"What's up your sleeve?" You laughed, stretching your arms as you sat up all the way. You watched Joe cross the room to rest his mysterious bag on the coffee table and sit near you on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't quite like your friend had come over for a visit, but rather like he was finally home after a long day. A warmth bloomed in your chest at the thought of Joe existing back in your orbit, and being happy as always to do nothing together.

"Doctors orders." He spoked as he reached into the paper bag. "We've got some overpriced drug store candy. A bag of ginger cookies. A magazine I found with Bruce Springsteen on the cover, and this." Joe named all the things he revealed from the bag one at a time, ending with a small envelope he handed to you. It was a card with the words "Get Well Soon" scrawled in outlandish cursive. Inside was blank, besides the doodled Joe had drawn of a frowny face wearing a droopy party hat. You laughed out loud, glancing up to your friend who looked quite proud.

"Thank you, Joe. You didn't need to come bearing gifts." You gave him a look as you rested the card on the table in front of you. You hadn't even felt sick since after your bath, anyhow.

"Uh, of course I did. Now shut up and try one of these. This was like, twelve dollars." Joe chuckled, reaching for a golden tin of suckers that came in elaborate flavors like ginseng, lavender, and cinnamon.

"You're out of control." You mocked, shaking your head but peering into the tin all the same. "Simply ridiculous."

"So you're saying you don't want one of these?" Joe jeered, pulling the tin away right as you started to reach in. You scoffed a laugh, moving your hand to shove his shoulder in protest.

"'Course I do! You've truly saved the day." You softened, really meaning it. You were having a really rough go of it until he showed back up. Joe reached in for a sucker and you did too, pulling one that was honey flavored. When you settled back into the sofa, happy with your choice, Joe followed suit. His shoulder pressed against yours and a new episode of Parks and Recreation was starting.

"Sorry the party was so lame." Joe pipped up, pouting as he watched the opening theme play through.

"It's okay." You decided after a beat. You could have assured him it wasn't so bad, but it wasn't great. And you really appreciated Joe's efforts to make your night more enjoyable, whether he realized that's what he was doing or not.

"Do you wanna watch something else?" You offered, suddenly realizing you had nothing left to offer him as thanks for everything. Joe shook his head and stuck in sucker in his mouth like a little kid, and you had to laugh over how much this felt like highschool. Then you settled closer near him, enjoying your candy just as well. Joe's arm fell warmly across your shoulders while a couple of episodes played through with Joe's occasional added commentary and bursts of giggles. You laughed too, but your eyes grew heavier with each passing scene. You hadn't even realized you were falling asleep until you felt Joe take your sucker from you loose grasp. Your head had fallen to his shoulder, and your eyes couldn't stay open one second longer. Parks and Rec’s familiar theme song echoed through the room as you dozed off in a flash, the easiest sleep you'd had in weeks.

///

Your home was quiet again when morning came. You were laying on the sofa with your favorite quilt gently draped over you. Joe was gone. When you stretched into the morning, you noticed a note on the coffee table, where Joe's slew of presents were left from the night before.

"Happy first day of the rest of forever. Thank's for letting me crash for a while. Maybe next week we can have a real party. This has all been an elaborate excuse to use one those fancy quill pens your mom keeps around. x o x o."

You snorted at Joe's thoughtfulness, always going out of his way to let you know how he felt. What had you done to deserve his remarkable friendship after all this time? You dwelled on the thought as you tidied up the living room and went about your day.

///

Your mother had started traveling for work. She was currently somewhere in Denver, taking photos of some happy couple. Leaving you alone to jump over the last of many legal hurdles you faced after coming back home. All you had to do was get from one place to another, delivering some business to the social security office, to confirm you were living back in the states.

The winter's thickets blanket of snow had been reduced to sheets of melting mush, but last night's bitter winds froze the mess to the ground. You waited around the house long enough for salt trucks and rush hour to wear down the roads before you hopped in the jeep your mother left behind. No big deal, you'd driven dozens of times before... just not for a while. You decided your reward for this nerve-wracking mission would be getting dinner from the best pizza place uptown.

You drove down the block with white knuckles, and onto the highway without even thinking. When you realized how far you'd safely made it, you relaxed enough to sing along to Billy Jole as you drove. This was way easier than you'd hoped.

After successfully delivering your paperwork,  you parked in the pizza place lot and ate a piping hot slice behind the wheel while scrolling through social media. Your phone was near dying when you decided to head back home.

Billy Jole was still a great company as you felt your self grow more comfortable behind the wheel. You were in complete control and everything was fine.

Until a loud unsettling POP came from somewhere outside your vehicle. Your car had obviously just blown a tire, slumping to the left in the middle of the highway. As you held your breath and tried to slow down, your remaining tires lost traction on a rouge patch of ice.

"Shitshitshitshit!"

Your car gracefully slid off the road toward a speed limit sign, scraped against the pole and spun around to a halt.

"Damn it!" You cried, tearing your white knuckles from the wheel and covering your face in your hands. Your heart was pounding and your throat closed shut, but a pathetic cry still managed to escape.

A couple of cars breezed by, leaving the highway otherwise empty while you sat trying to pull yourself together.

You weren't hurt. The radio was still blaring Scenes From An Italian Restaurant. It was a little cold, but you were okay. That's what you kept repeating over and over until your hands stopped shaking and you could breathe a little better than before.

"Oh shit." You whimpered, hopping out of the car to monitor the front left tire. The rubber smoking, peeling away from the rim. You hurried back in your car and found your phone was only at nine percent. Who were you even going to call forty minutes away from home? Oh, that's right, no one lived there anymore. Joe was in the city again. Mary was a lawyer and John-

You pulled your phone to your ear as it rang.

"Hello?"

"John? Hey, you live uptown don't you?" He said so at Christmas.

"I do! Stopping by to reminisce?" He laughed.

"I have a really huge favor to ask."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, well, I'm having some car troubles." You explained where you had been left stranded on the highway and how it all happened. How your phone was dying and you needed to call a towing service.

John promised he was right on his way, and you were able to call a service to come and get your car while you waited for a ride of your own.

His blue Buick slowed and eased off the side of the road only fifteen minutes later. John stepped into the frost-covered grass and leaned toward your open driver's window as you collected your things.

"Did you get through to a towing service?" He asked right away.

"They should be here in no time." You assured, and right as you had, a truck came creeping toward you from the other side of the road. By the time everything was sorted out and you eased into John's passenger seat, it was nearly nightfall. He cranked up the heating vents as you glanced around, noticing a car seat in the back, piled with a few bright children's books.

"Man I can't believe baby John has his own baby now." You beamed, turning to face Joe's little brother. He chuckled, stealing a glance your way while pulling back onto the road.

"Almost four, I wish he was still a baby."

"Yeah," You halfheartedly agreed. You wished you could have been around to know the families as they grew. You'd missed out on so much, and for what?

"So what's it like being back? Christmas felt like it always used too." John smiled, easy-going as always. Funny how he saved the day and went on chatting as if it wasn't a big deal, you thought. Weren't you the one supposed to be rescuing him from silly little mishaps like these? Maybe this was an all-new alternate reality.

"I was glad to be there. It had been far too long." You breathed, glancing out the window to the cold grey highway.

"Eva still feels bad for not recognizing you right away." John laughed. You couldn't help but chuckle, too.

"Oh, how could she?" You wondered. You hadn't been around. But you didn't want to dwell on that anymore. "It's not the first time someone thought I was Joe's hot date." You chuckled light-heartedly.

"I'm sure it won't be the last." John rose a brow, like he might have had more to say. But after a beat, he went on rambling about how glad he was that you'd been at the first Christmas his dad was absent from. How things felt less grim than he expected. And how he was glad to know space nor time could keep you from crashing the party.

When John dropped you off back home, you couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. You concluded that the indecision was better than falling into your usual downward spiral, and hoped things would only get better from here...

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[asrapal]

For the Soft OC asks,🌹, 🍁 and 🌾 for Consus? :)

hi im sorry this took a million years grad school kicked my ass this week okay ty for the ask i appreciate it a lot <3

🌹 where in the world does your OC feel most at home? is there any reason why? if its not the place they were born, where were they born? is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home wherever they may be? what does home mean to them?

while consus usually feels right at home in just about any farm, he is most drawn to greenhouses filled with herbs; he was able to convince asra (and their landlord) to have a greenhouse on the roof of the shop and he could spend hours there. it reminds him of home; in the village he grew up in, he and his dads were herbalists and had a massive greenhouse that they used to play hide and seek in when consus was little. consus traveled a lot after leaving his village, so there’s really nobody that makes him feel at home aside from his familiar, bramble. consus found him almost immediately after leaving and the two have taken care of each other since. home is peace and clarity; its where worry stops and breathing is easier; its a cold shower after a long day of work and a cup of hot tea while curled up with bramble (and later, asra)

🍁 where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? do they have a favorite sport outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

usually, their greenhouse, but if they need to be out of the city theyll go to the woods and relax under the tree where they first met asra. one of asras charms is in the tree, so it lets them feel close to him when they cant be around people. theyre not very into material goods, so they dont have a comfort corner. there is, however, a spot on the couch that they are drawn to like a moth to a flame when theyre upset.

🌾 describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

when consus had gone south with muriel to look for some special herbs, asra had expected to have a quite couple of days. until julian banged on the door of the shop, nazali in tow, and demanded asra join them for drinks within an hour of consus leaving. now, asra found himself a few drinks in, sitting in the corner booth across from nazali and julian.

nazali leaned forward, eyebrows cocked. “julian tells me you have a partner now?” they took a sip of their drink. “i know you tend to be tight-lipped and mysterious and whatnot, but maybe you’d be willing to tell me about him? what was his name, again...?”

“consus.” he glanced down at his cup and swirled the last of it around idly, feeling a smile creep over his face and heat climb to his ears. he took the final swig of his drink and slammed the cup down. “where do i begin, nazali? hes an herbalist, first of all. plants nearly jump into his hands and hes so unbelievably gentle with them and he talks to them while he takes care of them and its so cute its unbearable.

“when hes not working, hes quiet. calm. steady, like an anchor. just being around him is so grounding and relaxing, i dont know how he does it. you might think hes shy at first but he just needs a bit to warm up to you; im sure hes gonna love you when you meet him, especially with your sense of humor.” asra leaned back and giggled, picturing it.

“he has the best laugh, too. loud and bright and so so happy, almost like a childs. when he laughs really hard his nose scrunches up and his eyes squeeze shut and his smile is like the sun itself. once in a while, if youre really lucky, he snorts when he laughs and then gets really embarrassed about it; his ears and cheeks get all red and he tries to hide his face and oh man, nazali, does it just kill me.

“most of all, though? hes just warm. warm to be around and to cuddle with. his presence is like a hug under a blanket, just so gentle and kind and loving. physically hes really warm too, like he throws off a ton of heat and hes really solidly built so hes great to cuddle with. not so muscular as to be uncomfortable, but really strong. theres no safer place in the world than in his arms.”

asra fell quiet, glancing down at his lap. “i miss him already, you know. hes only been gone a few hours and my heart aches without him.” he smiled. “but i know hes gonna be so excited when he gets back and im gonna get to hear so much about his trip and all these fun new plants he found. he could talk for hours and id never get bored.”

[janthonyashtoreth]

Another big batch of asks!

Answering a bunch of asks under the cut! Most of them are ink and flowers centric. I hope you all are doing well <3

anonymous asked: wait wait hold up Anathema works in Azra's tattoo parlour?? amazing, when i was thinking of making my own florist/tattoo artist au, i also had Anathema be Aziraphale's apprentice :D i like when these two are friends. do you have any more headcanons about Anathema in ink and flowers?

she does!! she was doing an apprenticeship under him but has since graduated to doing her own thing (but she still works at his parlor). i can’t get into the whole plot because spoilers but angels/demons and agnes nutter’s prophecies still exist in the iaf universe, but anathema isn’t her descendant. instead, anathema is a wickedly smart computer genius and her boyfriend newt is an endearing but kind of inept descendent of agnes. anathema was azra’s good friend-turned-wingwoman once anthony shows up. i love her

anonymous asked: concept: aziraphale seeing crowley presenting femininely for the first time how'd you think he'd react? in your flower shop tattoo artist au

anonymous asked: OKAY totally not asking bc i may or may not have been thinkin abt this for like. too long. but would anthony have to like, come out as genderfluid to azra/how would azra react to seeing anthony present more fem for the first time

ooo ive been thinking about this as well! i dont think anthony would necessarily have a “coming out moment”, they just kind of do what they want. if they feel like presenting fem or using different pronouns they would just. do it. and azra would just kind of roll with it. i like to think that the first time anthony presented fem she got all dressed up for date night and didn’t tell azra and azra just Stares bc,,,, wow anthony is just gorgeous like that!! azra’s dead!!!

anonymous asked: You're a cutie pie. That's it. That's the fact.

:’ ) you’re a sweety pie!!!

anonymous asked: i deadass tried for 20 minutes to make the finger heart...... how did your friend do it......

i have absolutely no idea and it hurts my brain,,,

anonymous asked: Wahoo

wahoo.....

@alligatorsnbats asked: OK, so what's Oscar's thoughts on Anthony?

oscar LOVES anthony... he’s the worlds most apathetic cat but he actively seeks anthony out when hes around. azra is only slightly salty about it

anonymous asked: Is Anthony cross eyed?

he’s not! i made him a little bit cross-eyed in my latest post on purpose bc he was flustered but i dont know if it came across very well ;;

anonymous asked: not to be *THAT* bitch who comes into your ask box and gushes over your art but i love the way you colour things and your clean line work?? mwah. i wish i could draw like you its just so lovely

bfdkjfdh im cry,,,, just keep practicing my friend!!! i promise it’ll get you where you want to go. the last couple of months have been really nice for me in my ~art journey~ because its the first time i’ve ever really liked stuff that i’ve drawn. ive been drawing for about 7-8 years and this is only just happening and it varies so much from person to person!! some people get to where they want to go in 2 years, some people take 20. just don’t stop practicing!!

anonymous asked: your human!crowley deserves infinite appreciation and the fact that he has coloboma: that right there! is! good shit! he has snake eyes,,,, but as a human. u are a genius good sir and your art is a blessing 👌👌👌

haha thank you!! i think coloboma (i know how to spell it now!!) is such an interesting condition and it’s kind of underused for human aus!!! its so dope!!!

@bolitakawaii-senpai asked: what would crowley's and azi's fav emojies from the cursed emojis??

asking the real questions out here..... i think crowley’s would be the one with all of the teeth and aziraphale’s (assuming he knows what they are in the first place) would be the really cute one with big eyes and the pink hairbow

anonymous asked: concept for the ink and flowers au: something happens to crowley (imma b honest i have no idea) and has a lowkey crisis and chops all his hair off and just. joins his pet snake and snakes around the nursery untill azra comes in seeing crowley crying and cuddling his snake and yeah idk enjoy my the weird shit my brain comes up with

jhuyhaijodfaydgsihfujoi RIP TO THE HAIR...... i love the angst potential (and i can come up with a few reasons for the angst, but i digress) but i dont think i could part with anthony’s hair,,, i love it too much

anonymous asked: I can't handle your ink and flowers Aziraphale. I can't. His hair is TOO fluffy. His face is TOO squishy. He is EXTREMELY friend shaped. His glasses and his eyes are bright like SPARKLES. Every time I see him I want to go feral and show all my friends. I would hug him without letting go of given the chance. 1000000000/10. 💜🐝

anonymous asked: I have a cat just like Oscar (big himbo) and I got him some knit hats for Christmas and he's gonna hate me but I can't wait to dress him up like a little bee so: does Azra ever give Oscar like costumes or footies just for fun? If yes, does Oscar love or hate? 💜🐝

isldakfj im grouping these two together bc im assuming ur the same person anon!! i love your signature!!

you’re correct. his hair IS too fluffy, and he IS entirely too friend shaped. he has the BRIGHTEST eyes. i cant contain my rabid love for him and it spills out into the art. i can’t help it. he gives the best hugs

SLADKFJ YES HE DOES..... IVE BEEN MEANING TO DRAW THIS FOR A HOT MINUTE,,,, as i mentioned earlier oscar is the world’s most apathetic cat so i dont think he would care that much but he’s not super happy about it

anonymous asked: Y'know what? I'm too tired so say smth clever so just know that I love you and your art is amazing 💕💕 PS: i love that you also tag them as Ineffable partners (i guess the point is to be gender neutral)

i love you as well anon,,, and yeah i like the ineffable partners tag! i find that it fits more with their relationship for some reason. though i still tag as ineffable husbands since its such a popular tag lksdfjdfknjbh

anonymous asked: Hello! Fist of all thank you for yor art, you are one of my favorite artists in this fandom and I have Feelings about the Ink and Flowers AU. Second: Don't feel pressured to post daily, we understand that life is complicated and art can be difficult sometimes. Take care! You're the best!

anon i would die for you!!! i never imagined that i would ever be one of anyone’s favorite artists,,,,, im speechless,,,,,,,,

and yeah unfortunately i dont think ill be able to post every other day once this coming semester starts :( i’ll probably have to cut back to once every 3. but there’s more ink and flowers coming at u guys so!! stay tuned for that

anonymous asked: Good omens characters having a game night?

i know this was sent in for the au prompts i asked for but. i dont think im physically capable of capturing the pure chaos that would ensue from this. holy shit it would be so feral. 

thank you to anyone who read this whole thing!! i read all of my asks as soon as i get them and i have a lot that i’ve been sitting on for a while. if you sent me something i promise i haven’t forgotten about it!! if you’ve sent something in that you were expecting a response to and i havent responded, just send it again to be safe in case tumblr ate it

i love all of you! <3

[derireo]

dedue - give it to me

i’ve been trying to snap out of my shits for a while now and to no avail ,,, im  sorry for the few people who have been waiting for content from me. i won’t be able to get to requests for the time being; not until i feel better.

take this hard stan dedue content from me!

dedue x f!byleth

this is self-indulgent. very dirty, no beta. pls forgive me soft stans

byleth wasn’t small. her height was pretty average amongst all the women who were in garreg mach, and she even found herself having to tip her chin down to make eye contact with someone she’s talking to. she was definitely not small.

the problem was that the men of garreg mach were so unreasonably tall and.. massive. why had all of them grown so much? they all had such drastic growth spurts – even bernie ended up becoming a whole centimetre taller than her! and look at what happened to caspar; he’s become so big now!

it’s a shame that byleth didn’t inherit her father’s height, but at least she was able to make up for it with her unrivalled strength and stony expression.

byleth didn’t feel small, either. no one made her feel that way. even when she glowered back at dimitri when he was being huffy, or when sylvain playfully backed her up into a corner, she stood her ground. she didn’t let any man more than fifteen centimetres taller than her have any power over her.

except for dedue.

he absolutely towered over byleth – it’s like holding a grape to a watermelon, the size difference was mind boggling.

byleth shouldn’t have found it so attractive. how his broad shoulders and bulging muscles made her own body look so fragile; so tiny. he was nearly thirty centimetres taller than her and byleth couldn’t help but press her thighs together whenever the fact up and smacked her in the face whenever it got the chance.

byleth was so used to being seen as an alpha woman with her fierce blood lust on the battlefield and all the muscles she had gained from training and being a freelance mercenary throughout her life. she never would have thought to see the light of day when someone made her feel so small.

sure, there are other men at garreg mach that are significantly larger than she is, can wrap their hands around her waist and still be able to touch middle fingers at her stomach. sylvain had done so once to prove a point that didn’t make sense to her and dimitri had already tried to choke her to death with one hand (he lifted her from the ground for goddess’ sake!).

but dedue.

oh, dedue. byleth would daydream to herself.

that duscur man was something else.

he was so soft with her whenever they interacted in the greenhouse, and once, when she asked him to help her with the evening meal. his voice was kind and touch light as he told her what to do with each ingredient and how to season everything to perfection. despite his build he was gentle, and it showed with his actions.

even when he first held byleth, he cradled her to his chest and murmured about how he wanted to take her back to what was left of duscur, his homeland, and show her the beautiful field of flowers it had to present to her. he had sealed that promise with a brief kiss to the back of her hand.

it was obvious that this man of duscur would be romantic in bed with how careful he was with the world around him. byleth loved it. his callused hands roaming along her body as he kissed her always left byleth dizzy with desire, she’d even get shivers when he’d trace incoherent shapes onto her naked skin.

as much as she enjoyed being caged in by dedue’s arms, she loved it when his large hands would wrap around her. whether it be her waist, her neck, or her thighs, the firm grip of his hand on her was enough for byleth to start drooling for his cock.

she was quite a simple girl and dedue would only need to scratch his blunt nails along her thighs to have her putty in his hands.

byleth loved how small dedue made her feel.

“i’m going to break you.” dedue chuckled one night, arms crossed behind his head as he watched his lovely girl perch herself just above his hips. her unscarred (how?) hands were pressed against his abdomen as she held herself up and she bit her lip to weaken the smile that was forming on her face.

she licked her lip at his sentence. “i know.” she spoke nonchalantly and used her thumbs to brush over the hard ridges of his stomach while happily settling against the forming bulge in his undergarments. “i might just cry.”

dedue’s eyes were fond with love as he stared at byleth’s face, and the girl couldn’t help but flush at the expression. it was embarrassing to be shown such an emotion while she was blatantly teasing him.

“you’re still gorgeous when you cry.” he mumbled sweetly and removed an arm from under his head to brush his rough fingertips against the soft expanse of her stomach. byleth mewed at the contact and arched into the touch, and when his fingers hooked onto the hem of her black panties only to snap it back against her skin, it made byleth squeak.

dedue gave a slight smile at the sound and sat up from his lying position, causing byleth to wobble into his lap. “how about you be a good girl first and take a little ride?” he grinned then, his eyes devious as he stared down at byleth who was holding onto his shoulders with her lips parted in shock.

“panties off.” he whispered as he kissed her nose and smacked the back of her thigh to get the girl moving. byleth wasted no time, and once she had the lace flinging across the room she had settled herself against the spot where hip met thigh, eyes nearly rolling to the back of head as her clit made brief contact with his undergarments.

she bit her lip to contain the pleasured smile that was threatening to show on her face when dedue laid his hands on her waist, and with a tight grip, began to move her hips on his own accord. the flow of her hips kept her in contact with dedue, her clit brushing against his thigh deliciously.

dedue was controlling her movements so perfectly that byleth didn’t have to put in any effort; only had to wrap her arms around her man’s shoulders and let him make her do all the work.

the little gasps and whimpers that she let out was music to dedue’s ears and it made his body feel warm; made a rolling wave of arousal go through his body as the cloth that hid his erection felt like it was getting tighter. byleth fit so perfectly in his hands, dedue had discovered a while ago. he loved how her soft and hard curves filled his large palms nicely, and it made him feel possessive.

byleth could have chosen anyone in garreg mach, but she chose him – the man of duscur. a foreigner.

byleth wasn’t scared of him and the permanent glower on his face; wasn’t terrified with how small she was compared to him. she absolutely loved how big dedue was, and always seeked the comfort of his broad shoulders sheltering her with a hug. plus she loved sitting in his lap.

(she just likes grinding against him whenever she gets the chance.)

“if i were an artist like that ignatz from the leicester alliance, i would try my best to capture this gorgeous image.” the man quietly gritted out as his fingers dug into the supple flesh of byleth’s ass, his chest rumbling with a pleased growl at the sight of his bare thigh shiny with slick.

the archbishop could only giggle to herself at the comment as she gripped onto broad shoulders, her tongue lashing out to lick at her bottom lip in pleasure, her bashful grin something dedue wished he would see every single day. “you’ve always had a way with words, my dear.”

“but you always manage to render me speechless.” he chuckled, leaning up just the slightest bit to steal a kiss from byleth before pushing her off his lap once she was caught off guard.

she squeaked in surprise at the sudden move, but didn’t dare complain when she saw the smile on dedue’s face, her breath catching in her throat as he stroked her knee.

“so small.” dedue murmured once byleth laid on the mattress with her thighs eagerly spreading apart, knees pressed against her chest as she unashamedly exposed herself to her lover’s eyes. his rough hands scratched along the smooth expanse of her thighs as she welcomed him with coy eyes, and slowly, slowly, as he reached her most private, sacred area, he used his thumbs to carefully spread apart the pretty pink lips that hid that cute little clit she always seemed to love playing with, and the gorgeous hole that so eagerly swallowed him up every single time.

“such a pretty little thing.” he praised under his breath and used the tip of his index finger to circle her clit once before dragging it down to her slick entrance, his finger just barely dipping in before he’s pulling away, a thin string of her arousal connected to his finger. “i’m always amazed by how well you take my cock.” he chuckled and used his other thumb to add pressure to byleth’s clit, enjoying the broken gasp that escaped her. “considering how tiny you are.”

“i was born to take it.” she grinned lazily and let out another gasp when dedue slipped his finger into her entrance with ease, her slick dripping out of her in waves. “i’d take being your cumdump over archbishop any day.” she sighed dreamily, dedue’s finger crooking inside of her lazily as he flicked at her clit, his smile fond. “you flatter me so. but neglecting your duties is irresponsible.”

byleth couldn’t respond, because dedue was already nudging a second finger inside of her without warning and the slight burn nearly had the girl drooling with pleasure. “yes, dedue.” she sighed and threw her head back against the mattress while one of her hands went to wrap itself around her lover’s wrist, her chest rumbling out a happy purr as he let her guide him.

she was warm around his fingers, her walls squeezing his digits in the best way possible as he curls then unravels them, byleth’s hand pushing and pulling at his wrist to give her the friction that had her thighs shaking.

“you’re always so sensitive,” the duscur man crooned while teasing her entrance with a third finger, only slipping it in when the girl beneath him whined his name, “isn’t that adorable?” he hummed and leaned up byleth’s body to kiss her sweet, trembling lips, scissoring his three fingers to loosen her walls up. he chuckled in adoration when the young woman made a small move to bite at his bottom lip, her eyelashes fluttering in pleasure when he used his other hand to pinch her clit between his thumb and index.

byleth’s toes curled while she squirmed underneath her lover, her gasp coming out playfully scandalized as dedue toyed around with her little clit, the calloused skin of his thumb rubbing against the nub and sending a pleasurable burn throughout her body. she lifted her hands to weakly grasp at the man’s wrists while she threw her head back against the pillows, her toned abdomen clenching as dedue continued to play around with her.

“i know, dear.” he crooned softly when his lover cried out from beneath him, the pads of his long fingers mercilessly dragging across that little bundle of nerves that hid itself inside her gushing entrance. byleth was so unbelievably wet that whenever dedue pumped his fingers inside, more of her sweet, intoxicating slick would drip out of her and onto the sheets, nearly causing dedue to fall into a frenzy.

“you’re being such a good, quiet girl tonight.” dedue hummed a short duscur lullaby as he slipped his fingers out from byleth’s entrance one by one, pleased to see how shiny with slick they were. he carefully pried her hands away from his wrists and kissed her flushed cheek, humming again in satisfaction when byleth obediently opened her mouth to his fingers, her tongue immediately lapping up the slick that dripped from them.

the sight of byleth’s pretty, swollen mouth wrapped around his fingers gave dedue the sudden urge to wrap his hand around her throat, but he quelled it by kissing the tip of her nose, grinning as she blinked and wiggled it while she scratched her teeth along the underside of the man’s fingers, her own hands blindly reaching out to grab the hem of his undergarment.

byleth quietly gasped in a breath when dedue pulled his fingers from her mouth and she immediately tried to tug at his underwear, her teeth excitedly chewing at her lip.

“i want it in me, i want it in me.” she mewled over and over again until she was able to free her lover’s cock from it’s confinements, and she sighed happily when dedue immediately wrapped his fingers around the base and rubbed the tip against her neglected clit, the one action causing every nerve in her body to light up in pleasure. “mm.. dedue, please..” she murmured under her breath, her arms coming up to hook under her knees to keep her legs spread apart for her lover.

“o-oh!” she gasped all of a sudden when dedue gently slapped the head of his cock against her clit a few times, her body jolting in surprise at the sensation while she bit her lip when the pleasurable weight of his hand pressed down against her stomach. her eyelashes fluttered as he shallowly thrust his cock against her puffy cunt. “dedue.” she whined.

“say please.” he chided softly, and dragged his thumb along the shaft of his cock, his hips tilting back slightly to brush the tip against her entrance.

“please.” she grumbled.

“good girl.” dedue smiled mischievously as he teased byleth’s little entrance with the head of his cock. the girth was big, and his tip was leaking pre-cum.

byleth was practically drooling at the thought of getting thoroughly fucked, and she bit her lip in anticipation as dedue carefully nudged the head inside, the delicious stretch of her entrance causing byleth to shudder in pleasure.

“more, please.” she mewled happily, her tongue making another appearance to lick at her lips. without warning, dedue let his cock slip out from byleth’s entrance, only to tease her again by dipping the head of his cock in then pull it out. “a-ah! yes!” she squealed loudly for the birds to hear, and with a chuckle, dedue lazily thrust his hips to meet with hers.

byleth was waiting so long for this moment that when it happened, her tongue poked out from her mouth and her eyes, half lidded, went cross with pleasure.

unable to feel her fingers, byleth let go of her knees, causing her thighs to close around the hand that was pressing against her stomach, “give it to me.” she whimpered, her body squirming when dedue brushed his thumb against her belly button as a loving gesture, “please.”

and how could dedue say no to that?

the chuckle that escaped his chest was full of adoration, and he kindly obliged to the request of his lover, his palm flat against her stomach while his other hand forced byleth’s thighs back against her chest, his hips rocking slowly at first to ease her into the stretch.

byleth licked her lips happily when dedue slid his hand lower down her stomach to let her watch how his cock was sliding in and out of her, the bulge of his cock through her stomach making her giggle despite her eyes rolling slightly when he gave a particularly hard push of his hips. “yes!” she gasped, back arching as she grabbed onto dedue’s forearms, with him moving to hold her by the elbows.

he used her arms for leverage, pulling her down onto his cock when his hips would snap up, the force causing her body to slide up the bed.

dedue’s thrusts were relentless once he had a rhythm going, and each slap would push the breath out of byleth’s lungs, her voice coming out as a pleasured cry or a heaving gasp whenever air was able to reenter her body. sweat was dripping from her temples already, and her hair stuck to her face and neck as dedue used her body for both their pleasure, a lazy growl crawling out from his throat.

“i know, darling.” he managed to whisper out when he made eye contact with byleth, her eyes slightly misty with unshed tears as he continued to pummel into her, “it feels good, right, dear?” he murmured lovingly and moved a hand to cup her jaw in his palm, his eyelashes slightly fluttering as her walls spasmed around his cock, the head rubbing against her bundle of nerves as he ground his hips against her.

he kissed her nose when he received a nod and a sniffle in response, his small laugh fond as he caressed her sweaty cheekbone with his thumb, kissing her swollen lips while slowing down the pace of his hips to let byleth catch her breath, “you’ve been so good, sweetheart.” he murmured against her skin while his hands trailed down her sides, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin he made contact with. byleth could only giggle weakly, her mind muddled up enough for dedue to grab ahold of her hips and pull her up so that she was seated in his lap, his body upright to keep her stable.

“now you can go and get your treat, darling.”

and without further instructions, the young woman began to circle her hips with a pleased sigh, finally being able to savour the feeling of being full of dedue’s cock. “thank you.” she sighed dreamily as she lifted her hips, only to quickly sink back down to stuff herself full again.

“dedue.” she moaned weakly and wrapped her arms around dedue’s neck to keep her from falling off his lap as she picked up the pace, her breaths coming out in quick puffs by his ear, “i want your come.” she mewled, her hips rocking in a fluid motion as she began lapping at the sweat that was dripping down his jaw, “i wanna be full of your come.” she begged.

“okay.” he cooed into her ear with a tired grin, dragging his hands down her body again to hold her hips, “you’ve gotta earn it yourself, my sweet dear.” he teased, bellowing out a soft laugh when the only response he got was a warning nip to the shell of his ear.

“i’ll make you swollen with my children.” he coaxed gently, the tone he used normally only heard when he’s making a promise. “i’ll come as much as you want.” he pushed further, chuckling breathlessly once byleth’s hips began to pick up speed, “you’re almost there, sweetpea.” he reassured her by squeezing the soft flesh of her hips, his head tilting back in pleasure when she rocked down onto his cock, his lips curving into a tender smile.

“oh, goddess,” byleth gasped helplessly as she gripped onto dedue’s shoulders, her thighs shaking in exhaustion. the burn was close to becoming too much, and she called out dedue’s name through a sob as her nails dug into his slick, tan skin, begging for him to take over for her as the sensation of pleasure was turning her brain into mush. the thought of conceiving children through such a filthy act like this was enough to send tingles down her spine. it was so absolutely sinful, and here dedue was, calling her cute nicknames that would normally have her flustered. “please.”

“that’s it.” he hummed low in the back of his throat and dug his fingers into byleth’s hips once again, using the grip he had on her to circle and rock her hips against his lap. he began to force her body up then let her sink back down until he was buried to the hilt inside of her again with what was left of the strength in dedue’s arms. byleth was blubbering at this point, as tears obstructed her vision. the heating coil in her stomach burned, and she was only able to clutch at dedue as he controlled her hips.

“give it to me.” she begged with a voice that was barely above a whisper; her throat sore from the multiple times she wasn’t able to catch her breath.

“yes, yes, yes!” byleth squealed in delight once dedue adjusted their position so that he was resting back on his haunches, and began to thrust his hips up to meet with hers to chase their orgasms together. “oh, dedue.” she arched her back once her toes started tingling, “fuck me, please – harder, harder –” she cried out desperately, her fingernails scratching at tan skin as her lover continued to take the breath away from her lungs.

the coil in dedue’s stomach tightened as byleth’s walls clenched uncontrollably, and it only spurred him on more. he craned his neck slightly to capture her lips in a kiss as he groaned, his teeth sinking into the plush cushion of her lip. the archbishop could only hum contentedly against his mouth, but her head was getting lightheaded with how much electricity was coursing through her veins. the easy slide of dedue’s cock going in and out of her was only causing more of her slick to gush out, and all she was able to do was continue to take the abuse being given to her hole, the thrusts becoming more rushed and sloppy as dedue seemed to be reaching his limit.

“mff – !” she gasped in surprise when heavy spurts of come began to coat the inside of her walls, and her eyes began to roll to the back of her head when dedue’s thrusts began to slow, but they pushed into her deeper than before. her pleased squeaks of pleasure were muffled by dedue’s mouth as he continued to bury his come deeper inside of her, and she giggled weakly, her fingers digging into his chest as he chose not to pull out.

“dedue..” she sighed, happy, and ground her hips back onto his cock to get him to growl, “so big..” she murmured against his lips while going back to wrapping her arms around his neck. she bumped her nose against dedue’s as she regained her breath, dedue’s thumbs lazily stroking her hips while she kept a steady pace at grinding down onto his length, her throat buzzing when she let out a purr.

when dedue shifted their positions so that he was sitting comfortably on the bed with byleth still in his lap, he began to press soft kisses along the expanse of her throat to calm himself from his own orgasm. “don’t pull out yet.” she sang and curled her legs around dedue’s hips to prevent him from pushing her off of his lap. “i want to stay like this forever.” she pouted to herself, but giggled when dedue gave a teasing nip to her throat. “just you, me, and your fat cock stuffed inside my little hole.”

dedue decided to scold her then, “that’s some vulgar language you’re using there, my lady.” and he gave a delicious slap to the side of byleth’s thigh to punish her.

“says the man who’s still pumping me full with his come.” she poked her tongue out to which dedue bit into her collarbone, chuckling.

“says the woman who was begging for it.” he fought back and tightened his fingers around byleth’s hips once again, lazily circling her body onto his cock again as the burn in his stomach reignited once more, his grin devilish as he watched byleth bite her lip and flutter her eyelashes at him. “you’re not done yet, hon?”

“i already told you i was planning on making you pregnant with my children.” he grunted once byleth began to cooperate with him and moved her hips however he wanted her to, “i’m not going to pull out until you’re gushing with my seed.”

byleth could only sigh with joy, her toes curling.

“okay, daddy.”

[itsmymeaningoflife]

I started this fic back when s10 started but I’ve had a major writers block. I hope you enjoy what I have so far :)

I can’t lose you too

“Mom, where are you going?”

Carol blinked her eyes open. The false sense of bliss faded, leaving her with an empty pit in her stomach and a longing in her chest. When she couldn’t hold on any longer and her body begged for slumber, her mind would roam and conjure up another ignorant paradise. Never repeating the same fantasy twice, but it was always happy. Always him.

She was stood on the porch of the old farm house, clutching her frayed woollen cardigan. Her hair was longer than she remembered it and was pulled back into a lose bun. Vague shouting was all that could be heard as Rick, Glenn and Shane ran towards the figure in the distance. It was too far away to make out exactly what it was, but it’s hobbled walk and skewed features raised concern for the group. As it staggered forward Carol realised that the ‘walker’ was carrying something.

“Somebody fetch Carol!”

“Where’s Carol!”

The men’s voices rang louder this time and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Her legs carried her into a sprint across the field before her head caught up. It couldn’t be true. They searched for her every day, every hour they had light, with no luck. Yet, cradled in his arms was Sophia. Against all the odds Daryl had found her. He staggered forward as Carol rushed to meet him, heart pounding hard and fast. Sophia had always been too small for her age but seeing her now - grimy clothes and tangled hair, wrapped in his arms - made her look as fragile as the day she was born. Her eyes were closed and her skin pale, wrenching a nervous sob from Carols lips.

He had found her, but was he too late?

“Hey, she’s okay.” He reassured. “Jus’ sleeping. I found her hiding up a tree from some walkers. Some food, water and a good sleep and she’ll be as right as rain.”

Carol sighed, tears streaming down her face and stroked her daughters hair. Sophia was alive.

Hershel appeared and insisted on checking them both over. It was then carol noticed the steady stream of blood trickling down Daryl’s forehead. She reached out a concerned hand but he flinched back.

“I’m fine, let’s just get her inside.”

She blinked and then she was sat next to Sophia’s bed inside the farm house, holding her small hand tightly, never wanting to let her go again.

“Thank you.” She murmured, raising her eyes to meet Daryl’s who was sat on the other side of the bed, a bandage wrapped around his wound. “You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life. And I’ll never be able to tell you how grateful I am.”

Daryl smiled.

“Told ya’ didn’t I? We would find your little girl and she’d be just fine.”

Tears begun to blur her vision and when she wiped them away Daryl was sat in his chair at her side. She rose to her feet and placed a soft kiss on his bandages, right where the wound would be. Acutely aware of her stomach rumbling, she turned to go and get herself some dinner as a small cold hand clamped around her wrist.

Sophia was sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and scared.

“Mom, where are you going?”

It was the first bitter-sweet dream of it’s kind and caused Carol to jerk awake in her new bed at Alexandria. She had many years to mourn Sophia and clinging onto her only reminded Carol of how far she had come in this new world. The loss of her daughter cut all ties to the old world and her old self. Yet her sweet girl was never too far from her heart. Every night after that her dreams were all vivid warps of what could have been all those years ago.

The pale of water splashed at Carols side as she made her way back to the Grove. A distant squeal of laughter made her heart lurch with happiness as she quickened her pace up the grassy slope. Daryl danced around, arms outstretched, making a half-hearted attempt to grab the two young girls who tried to weave around him. Mika squealed and jumped backwards as Daryl made a swipe for her arm- his mock-growl turning into a bark of laughter as she dodged him. Lizzie used this opening to dive forward and make a dash towards the Pecan Tree, laughing loudly.

“Nooo!” Daryl exclaimed, crashing into the floor and the autumn leaves crunching under his body. Lizzie touched the tree trunk, followed closely by Mika.

“We win, we win!” The girls sang in chorus, laughing breathlessly.

“Can we play again?” Asked Mika taking a step towards where Daryl was lay motionless on the floor, playing dead. “Come on Da- AHHHHH!”

Daryl threw a handful of leaves at the girl and jumped to his feet with a playful shout. His ambush startled Mika enough for Daryl to scoop her up and hoist her over his shoulder. Thumping on his back with her small fists and cackling the entire time, Mika called out to her sister.

“Lizzie! Help me! The dragon caught me.” She squealed.

“I’ll save you!” Lizzie now brandished a stick as a sword and waved it at Daryl.

“Not if I catch you first.” Daryl jumped forward, making another swipe for her with his free arm, earning another hoot of laughter from the older girl. Weighed down by Mika over his shoulder, Daryl’s reflexes were slowed so he received a defensive whack on his arm from the ‘sword’.

Lizzie froze, worried that she had hurt Daryl but the man laughed harder and used this opening to lunge at the girl. He scooped her up around her waist and held her under one arm. Both girls were now flailing and wriggling to get free but Daryl held them tightly.

“I win! I caught you and I’ll eat you both for dinner! Hahaha!” He shouted manically as both girls giggled.

“Or we could take little girls off the menu and eat some pecan pie instead?” Carol called over their laughter.

Daryl whipped around and set both girls on their feet.

“Last one to reach mom has to wash the dishes.” He claimed, breaking into a run with both girls hot on his tail.

Carol set her bucket of water down and braced for impact. Daryl slowed to let the sisters overtake him and reach Carol first, nearly knocking her off her feet with their collision before he joined them in the group hug. When they all broke apart Daryl left one arm slung across Carols shoulders, pressing their sides together as they walked towards the house. The girls carried the bucket between them, still breathless from their afternoon of fun.

“Looks like you’re on washing up duty.” Carol mocked.

“I don’t mind.” Daryl smiled giving her a squeeze.

Realising that Lizzie and Mika has fell behind, Carol turned and froze. The bucket was gone. Lizzie had blood trickling down her temple and hands. Mika’s shirt was torn and bloody.

“Mom?” They said in unison. “Where are you going?”

This time Carol woke up with tears in her eyes and an empty feeling in her heart. She hadn’t told anyone about the horrors that unfolded at the Grove, hoping that the memories would die with Tyreese. Judith was too young to remember the sisters who saved her life back when the prison fell, leaving only Carol to mourn them. She couldn’t save Mika from her sisters twisted fantasy and she couldn’t save Lizzie from herself. Losing the girls had broken her, yet it felt different to when she had lost Sophia. Carol was a completely different person at that time and knew that both girls jeopardised Judith’s survival. So, she repressed the grief and hoped that the group wouldn’t speak their names again. They never did. Nobody found out what happened to her surrogate daughters after the fall of the prison. Nobody even knew that they had been reunited. But he looked at Carol with such agonising heartache that she believed that he knew exactly what she had lost. She had seen the same broken spirit in Daryl after the group had lost Beth. That girl was a fighter with a heart of gold; a dangerous combination. In the end it was what got her killed. And it tore Daryl apart to lose the child that he fought so hard to protect.

Looking back, Carol had to admit that the groups time on the road had turned them feral. Never staying in one place for more than a night, she barely had time to dwell on her grief and bottled it up once more. Arriving in Alexandria should have been a relief but this lifeline only made her angry. These people were left unscratched from the horror that was the end of the world, living a fantasy behind their fences. Families were whole and mothers still tucked their children into bed each night without having to worry about them being torn apart. They lived in a bubble.

The moment she stepped through those gates Carol knew that to survive im that place she couldn’t be a hardened warrior any more. Plastering on a smile, she played the role of the timid housewife she one was. She cooked and smiled and cleaned and smiled some more. Adapting to her surroundings was the only thing that kept her alive. Carol knew how to make friends with the neighbours and be gracious towards the assholes; Ed made sure of that. However it became clear to Carol that Alexandria had its own type of monster hiding behind its walls. The type of monster that made little boys cower in their closets and seek refuge with someone who knew how to handle a gun. The world as they knew it had faded, yet the horrors of domestic abuse had taken root within the community, leaving Carol to try teach Sam Anderson how to navigate the threats outside the walls and within his own home.

The bell-timer rang and Carol dried her hands on a tea towel before donning her floral oven gloves and opening the oven door. A sweet smell of cinnamon filled the kitchen as she placed the tray of perfectly baked cookies on the counter to cool. On the other side of the breakfast bar, Sam sat scribbling notes on a piece of paper out of a battered text book.

“They smell delicious.” He remarked, pausing writing to inspect her wares.

He reached towards the goods with a greedy hand, which Carol wafted away with her tea towel.

“They’ve just come out the oven you fool.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Anyway, they’re not for us, they’re for Rick and Michonne to say thank you for the casserole that they sent over for us last week.”

Sam sighed and placed his head in his hands, pouting. The back door clicked and Daryl entered, pausing for a second to wipe his feet on the mat.

“Hey.” He smiled warmly at the pair. “Oh, something smells amazing.”

Daryl made a beeline for the tray, only to be greeted with a light slap from Carols tea towel.

“Not for you either.”

Daryl’s pout matched Sams, their sulking making Carol chuckle as she lifted the cookies onto a plate to cool.

“But I suppose I can’t send these over to the Grimes’ without them being tested first, can I?” She smiled pushing the last cookie on the baking tray towards the boys.

Their faces lit up. Daryl took the cookie and split it in half, offering the bigger of the two to Sam. The boy accepted it gracefully and Daryl ruffled his hair. Almost comically, both of them bit a huge mouthful of cookie before repeatedly gasping at the heat. Carol shook her head chuckling.

“I don’t know what you expected.” She remarked, sealing the lid onto the cookie tin. “You boys are always so impatient. Anyways dinner won’t be long so go get yourself cleaned up.”

Daryl whined like a frustrated puppy.

“Shower. Now. Or do I have to hose you down on the porch?”

A bark of laughter lingered in the kitchen as Daryl hurried off upstairs, escaping the dreaded threat of the hose. Carol found herself holding a full biscuit tin and walking towards the back door until she felt a hand tugging on the hem of her jumper.

“Mom, where are you going?”

Losing Sam didn’t hurt the same as losing her girls but it chipped away at the walls she had built up nonetheless. Carol was angry when he died. Not at Sam, he was just a timid child, but at Jessie for not teaching him how to handle himself around walkers. At Sams age, Carl was an active member of the group, helping them to defend and scavenge and kill. She never wanted to be responsible for Sam. He was weak and he wouldn’t last a day out beyond the wall. But the boy had taken a liking to Carol and she couldn’t shake him off. She remembered a time back at the farm, when she was too cowardly and inexperienced to aid in the search for her own daughter and someone else was just as angry at her for not teaching her daughter the basic rules of the new world.

“You ain't my problem! Sophia wasn't mine! All you had to do was keep an eye on her!”

Carol would be lying if she said that those words didn’t rip through her like bullets every time she remembered them. Back when Daryl Dixon didn’t let himself feel anything but anger, he devoted every hour of sunlight to search for her daughter. That’s what hurt the most in the aftermath- Daryl pulling away from the group once more. It was his determination to find her that kept an ember of hope burning in her heart, even after her mind had accepted the harsh reality that their searching was a dead end.

“We don’t know if we’ll ever find her, Daryl.” She had told him a week into the search.

After he came back with an arrow in his side and a bullet graze on his head, it was obvious that this man was going to get himself killed looking for a girl that was already dead. It was true; Sophia wasn’t his. But he searched all the same. And when her daughter came stumbling out of that barn, eyes glassy and unseeing, Daryl was the one to catch Carol in her hysteric attempt to join Sophia and hold onto her firmly in the dust until the ordeal was over.

Sophia was her world, and losing her shattered Carol in an indescribable way. She was left to pick herself up, piece by piece, and put herself back together as a whole new person. The new Carol vowed to not love a child as she did her own daughter. Lizzie and Mika came close to bringing down that wall but she was careful to always keep them at arms length for the sake of he own heart. Sam was another challenge, battling her own maternal instincts to keep the attachment at bay, but she managed to keep her promise to herself.

Until Henry entered her life.

After the war with the saviours, Henry helped Carol heal. She had raised him and watched him grow into a skilled and loving young man who allowed her to call herself a mother once more. When they had lost Rick and the communities crumbled apart, she finally understood why Alexandria lived in an ignorant fantasy. At the Kingdom, she didn’t need to be a fighter or a scavenger. She was the Queen. As much as she hated the title, she was living the perfect fairy tale. Married to the King and mother of the Prince- she had everything this new world could offer. Then the skin freaks showed up and shattered her happy paradise in one afternoon. It should have been a happy day. A day of rejoice and celebration between the reunited communities. Instead she ended the day with Daryl holding her as she became a childless mother once more.

When Henry started showing his face in her dreams, Carol found herself wanting to be asleep for longer each night. Yet it was seeing someone else in those blissful situations that had her feeling conflicted when she woke. Never knowing whether she’d rather cling to an ignorant part of her imagination or try to push them aside and try to heal. The world in her head was happy and loving but when she woke, she struggled to deal with the grief clouding her every thought. So she dealt with it the only way she knew how. Carol stopped sleeping. Learning to live without the veil of foolishness she held in front of her eyes for years was a difficult adjustment, made harder by the frequent visits from the ghosts of her past. It was easier living in Alexandria, surrounded by the friends and family who helped keep her grounded through every battle she had faced so far. Every time she had drifted, they had brought her back. He had brought her back. And she needed that now.

Her dream ended abruptly and Carol blinked her eyes open for the forth time that week. Debating whether to get up and face the day, she fumbled with the twine around her wrist.

[burnedbyshoto]

Passion, Passion, and More Passion

yoarashi inasa x reader

warning: fluff

a/n: i combined these two, if you’re anon and would like it to be separate just let me know, ill definitely fix it for you :)

Before friendship:

you’re a quiet person, you had always been that way since getting your quirk. it was Alternate Reality. you could change the reality of the area around you for five minutes before it changed back

and people were fearful of you because of that

no one trusted you and because of that your personality faded away, instead you put up walls that kept everyone out. no one trusted you to begin with, why did they deserve you?

so when you meet inasa in middle school, youre immediately drawn to him. his inability to be fearful because he just loved everything so much

but you didn’t change yourself, he would eventually turn on you, right?

he doesn’t stop bugging you, claiming that your power is something special and you should be super passionate for it, but you scoff and leave him every time only for the large boy to follow you while citing off his top 1000 list of Pro-Heroes to which he couldn’t actually list off because they were all just so passionate!

expect to be bugged constantly with everything that Inasa can think of

because he can see the passion in your eyes

no matter how much you scoff at him

or snap at him

he won’t leave

then it happens one day in class, p.e. when the two of you are put up against each other for a competition, and its the slight fire in your eyes and the way you take off with victory on your mind that makes inasa step back and realize there only one thing that would make him happier than he already was. being friends with you.

Friendship:

expect constant declarations of his love for your passion for you as his friend

he loves you (platonically at this point) and your quirk

he won’t shut up about your quirk ever

showing another group of girls a cockroach he found

“This is AMAZING! you know what’s even better--y/l/n-chan’s quirk!”

you do take awhile for your walls to fall down, but you’re happy it was him who gets it down because he is supportive

expect him to bring you the most insane presents

a stick because it reminded him of the one time you two got into a screaming competition, don’t ask how, you still didn’t understand

he just loves you so much

competitions made out of literally anything and the most important competition between you two comes days before results of high school enrollment begins

“I BET I CAN BEAT YOU IN A TREE CLIMBING COMPETITION!” Inasa hollers as the two of you stare at the large, very compelling tree in front of you. 

you smirk at him and nod, “ready?”

Inasa shakes his head excitedly, dropping his backpack on the ground as he stares up and he screams when you disappear from view

his eyes look up to see you already nearing the top, and with a spurt of his quirk he rockets up, catching up easily.

inasa laughs joyusly, “YES Y/L/N-CHAN, YOUR PASSION IS SO BRIGHT I HOPE YOU WIN!”

with another warp of reality, he comes crashing into tree branches and you laugh as he is disorientated as you implement a ladder into the tree climbing up and winning

“Take THAT Yoarashi-kun!”

it had to be the way you sat in the tree with the wind blowing through your hair, your eyes filled with excitement and joy of winning, and the grin on your face that he had longed for so long to see months ago

and a blush over comes him as his heart begins thumping in a passionate way thats... foreign and yet calming

the tree branches you made disappear and he topples towards the ground with a load groan

inasa blinks looking up at the sky as your head peers into your vision, worry and concern on your face

“Are you hurt?! Why didn’t you use your quirk, Yoarashi-kun?!?! Are you okay?!” you say as you try tending to any injury of his

“haha, im very sorry for scaring you, I just slipped!”

“if you say so...”

Crushing:

if you thought your best friend was overbearing and invasive, you took it all back now

the two of you were going to Shiketsu Academy after Inasa said he would not be able to go to U.A. which was both of your dream school

but above anything your dream of being a pro-hero meant staying with inasa, so you followed him despite being offered a seat as well

but right now he was sort of avoiding you, only talking about you to other people in your class, but he refused to have a conversation outside of a generic one

as if you two weren’t best friends

and it pisses you off because you were in love with that babbling baffoon but he was suddenly giving you a distant shoulder? that wasn’t the passionate overbearing person you knew him to be

it takes you a bit to gather your wits, but you finally confront him one day when you are able to get him trapped within your quirk

“what the FUCK is wrong with you Yoarashi?!” you seethe as you shove him against the wall you manifested. “you can’t go from being over the top to ignoring me every second of the day?! you’re my best friend and i can’t have you doing this to me without an explanation!” you sob

and inasa breaks, the passion you had for the two of you was too much

and he does his trademark apology, slamming his bleeding forehead into the ground as he seeks your forgiveness

and you give it to him without hesitation

inasa then tries to woo you with overwhelming love and attention, something you find to be,,,, real nice

he’s just pure energy and charm and he’s oh so pretty

inasa’s over one day to study, the two of you are up in your room

it was a hot and sticky day

and you’re in a tank and shorts and inasa is having a hard time not staring at you

“what did you get for number 47?” you ask gazing up to your best friend who was now caught in the middle of oogling at your chest

and you shriek embarrassed

“IM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME!”

when you calm down, the two of you are unable to focus as the two of you keep stammering out sentences and blushing ridiculous amounts

“Yoarashi--”

“Y/l/n-chan,” Inasa speaks over you, his large hand on yours, and you freeze as you watch as he shifts towards you leaning in closely. “I have feelings for you, and I want to confess them to you right now, if you will let me.”

you nod dumbly as Inasa rises from your bed and comes to tower over where you stood. you were short already, but next to your best friend you felt almost childish

you shrieked as Inasa sank to his knees in front of you

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY ARE YOU KNEELING?!”

“I like you, a lot, will you be my girlfriend?”

You shake slightly as you take in that sentence, the worry in his eyes as you remain silent for too long, but the crushing, passionate kiss you place on his lips answers the question for him as he quickly returns the passion to the tenth degree

“of course i will be...”

Dating:

you think he was overbearing before, guess what

his hands are always in yours

he won’t do much more than hold you hand for PDA because he’s too polite and formal but he will always hold your hand

you will whisk him away into an empty classroom to kiss him until his too flustered to speak and walk away without a care in the world

walking to and from school his arm is slung across your shoulder as long as there aren’t too many eyes

he always does spontaneous dates

“Y/l/n-chan, lets go rock picking to express our passionate feelings for each other!”

“Y/l/n-chan, I heard the shelter got new puppies! let’s get some dinner and head over and look at them together!!”

“Y/l/n-chan, your favorite passionate hero is out the corner, leT’S GO AND ASK FOR THEIR BLESSING!”

he will spoil you with his love

duh what else would he do with those overflowing feelings

making out in your room instead of studying 

kissing him in public as he would have to bury his face into your neck because your passion was way too bright for him to handle

using his quirk to cool you down, or to lift you up when you needed to grab something from a tall cabinet

making out on the couch while his family made dinner because it made him feel like he was going to implode

freshly picked flowers

making out

you get the point

How he falls in love, and how he confesses:

it’s nearing the final year of your education at Shiketsu, and the two of you are the school’s powercouple.

it’s rumored you two could take on the entire hero course of U.A. and win (inasa spread that rumor so that todoroki and bakugou would reach out and speak with him)

the two of you are making out on your desk because walking two meters to your bed was too much work, and then you pull away panting and instead of going back in for a kiss you wrap him in a hug

and this flusters inasa as you place your head on his chest, listening to the thundering heartbeat in his chest

“a-are you okay?” he would stutter out as he was unsure if his new kissing technique was bad, damn he knew he shouldn’t had listened to camie about the tongue sucking technique!!!

he knew it was weird!!!

but she had used the words passionate and he bought it

the small nod against his bare chest brings him to reality and you look up and smile at him, “I’m just so grateful for you, inasa...”

his name leaving your lips just feels so passionate, so loving

he envelopes you into a crushing hug and the rest of the night the two of you cuddle in bed

its when you fall asleep on his chest, your finger still tracing blobs and shapes onto his stomach is when it hits him, he’s in love

he loves you with more passion then he has ever felt in his life

and he smiles softly as he kisses the top of your forehead falling asleep himself

he’s not ready to tell you yet, he was waiting for your two year anniversary to announce his love for you when you get him too excited during a particularly intense makeout session and the words tumble out of his mouth

“i love you... so much, y/n.” he gasps out as his lips attack your neck, he obviously being unaware of the words that came out of his mouth

you freeze and shove him away

a light whine escaping his lips as he tries to reattach himself onto you

“You love me?!” you pant as a blush overcomes both your cheeks

and the passion in inasa’s being inhibits him from speaking as he nods

“I-i, I love you too, inasa-chan, so much.” You whisper as both your eyes search others and laughter escapes your lips as you pull him back onto you, ready to show him how much you love him

it was a night filled with passion, passion, and more passion

and both of you knew that there was no one else in the world they wanted

[cnc-hoebayb]

Deadass a dream i had with Richard hehejej

I literally spat out half of this so sloppily bc i wanted to capture the dream essence right after it happened, but like you get the idea.

And obvio i beefed it up a lil for story effect so that’s why it’s so detailed and cheesy in some parts (especially the end sorry skdk)

.

A pair of suited up body guards shut the doors and stand at attention behind you as everyone enters the giant store. The emptiness of a place this big feels a little uneasy but at the same time makes you feel so lavish and important.

The boys are already pairing up beside you, grabbing each other and friends before diving into which section of clothes they wanna start with. You smile and watch them almost run into the aisles, way too excited to be shopping than should be normal. The accessory display in the corner catches your eye and you wander over alone.

Sure, it was fine to shop and spend some alone time every so often, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t bad to feel a lil lonely either. The gold earrings in the glass container distract your thoughts and you gravitate in farther. A reflection bounced off the table and you see the faint outline of a figure behind you. Your mind eases suddenly and your heart swells. A pair of hands snake around your waist from behind and a stubbly chin presses into your neck.

“I missed you,” he whispers before laying a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Richard, we literally saw each other 2 seconds ago walking in here.” You play and he squeezes you into him tighter. “Yea but i missed you like this.”

PDA was never quite your scene, but having to maintain a relationship with him entirely in secret, it felt almost impossible. To have his arms around you like this, it gradually felt like a necessity. You lean into it, eating up every last bit and all the sensations of his love before it had to end.

“Whatcha lookin at,” he releases you and it feels empty, but his hand locks discreetly in yours at his side. “Just some jewelry, might have to cop some lavish shit while we here,” you wink and then point to a thick chain on another display. “This one actually reminded me of you, maybe I’ll get it for myself to pretend it’s yours.”

His hand guides you to follow and walk with him to a different section of the store. “You know i can just give you one of mine instead,” he says mindlessly while browsing the racks on his right. The thought gives you a sense of happiness but it’s soon overpowered by reality. “Babe you know we can’t do that,” you say defeated.

Richard stops everything to look back at you, eyes heavy and sad in an instant. “Soon,” is all he says, “te prometo.” You wanna hug him, fall into his body and let him tell you it’ll all be okay.

But a body zooms in around the corner and its back to acting. As if instinctively at this point, your hands pull from each other with swiftness, body language at a complete opposite, no trace of any sentiment between you. “Erick loco, why you running like that,” Richard laughs and struts over to him, giving you a little head nod as he walks away like nothing.

“Im trying to race Zabdiel, donde está él??” You hear them talking as you walk the other way. It was best not to hang around, otherwise you might get too comfortable and slip up, get too touchy or say something that blows your cover.

It wasnt the most ideal, but it was something that just needed time. Not that anyone or one of the boys would be mad, but bigger than that. Being part of the tour staff made it iffy. What if they had thought your new promotion was because of him? That you were getting special treatment and being paid basically to have fun and fuck around with the important people. And not to mention the fans. If this went public, there would be a riot of people accusing you of being fake or using him, everything you feared. It was too risky for the both of you. And you loved him so much, it felt like there was nothing better to do.

You fill your head with distractions and ride the escalator to the next floor, getting as far away as possible. The music was louder up here and it made it easier to get lost. At this point you weren’t even shopping, just wandering and clearing your mind, fingers brushing past fabric as you walked the length of every aisle. Something shuffles to your side and you know by those heavy steps, but you continue walking in a daze.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Richard towers behind you, sliding his hands down your arms until they interlocked with his again, crossing them across your waist in a deep hug. You close your eyes for a second and let him wander along with you, his scent so intoxicating, overshadowing the sadness. “What’s on your mind, baby?” He senses your uneasiness and it makes you nervous.

“Nada, just thinking.” He doesn’t question any further, just keeps his hands on you, spinning you around to face him, planting kisses up and down your neck, making your cheeks blush immediately. “Stooopp,” you giggle, all sad thoughts already lost, overpowered by the happiness he always seemed to give you. “Richard Yashel Cama- NooO” you squeal as he lifts you off the ground, spinning you in a fast circle before dipping you towards the ground.

His smile beams as your noses brush together, him holding you so close to the ground and all the built up energy has your heart pounding. He holds you there, letting the tension build before leaning in ever so slightly to your lips..

“Richard, yo, you gotta come see this we-“ a voice yells from a distance and the perfect bubble of yours collapses. You don’t know what to do so Richard is the one to act quick. He drops you the rest of the way to the ground, your body hitting the tile with a soft smack. The look he gives is a tiny second of regret followed by yet another change of character.

It’s Chris this time to turn the corner, coming upon the scene of you on the ground, Richard hovering above you. “Whoaaa girl watch where you goin,” he improvs on spot, acting like you had just bumped into him or something. This is definitely the lowest you’ve felt. Literally and figuratively.

He reaches out a hand to help you and you get up quickly, fixing yourself before turning the opposite direction from the boys, them already going on their own way too. Richard looks back at you with a glum stare but you ignore it, not wanting to even look at him right now. Emotions buildup in every piece of your body and you desperately seek out anywhere to get out of this space.

His laugh still seems to echo in your ears the farther you walk away, it was too hard. You stop at the little glass balcony to observe everyone below on the first floor. You smile as you see Erick hiding in a rack of pants, Chris and Richard about to be his next victims. He looks up at you and does the “shh” gesture and you do it back to comply. It’s fun and lighthearted, but that heart wrenching feeling comes back when you see Richard.

Him and Chris scream and fall to the floor as Erick pops out, scaring them half to death with the easiest prank in the book. Erick looks up to you and does a thumbs up excitedly. You throw one up back and smile down, catching glimpse of Richard giving you a look from down there as well. The smile fades from your face immediately and you have to turn away, walking away from the ledge and off to somewhere he isn’t.

You find comfort in the shoes section, plopping down on one of the squishy chairs on the side of the aisle. Your head falls to your hands in your lap and it’s so annoying to feel like this. To feel like you’re so far away from someone who is actually your entire heart and world, like you can’t be with who you love because it’s wrong, but it’s not.

You take a deep breath in to calm down and when you look up, there he is. “Baby what’s wrong? Are you o-“ you cut him off mid sentence and start to walk away. “Not now Richard,” he follows close behind and grabs your hand, forcing you to turn around and face him. “Don’t touch me.” You yank out of his grip and tears form in your eyes.

“Heyheyhey, it’s just me, tell me what’s wrong.” He keeps his distance, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable, all he needs is you to open up. “I’m done, Richard. I’m just done.” You sniffle and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Im done acting. I hate having to pretend this isn’t real because this is the realest thing I’ve ever felt. I’m done keeping secret touches and kisses,” you stop to lower your voice when you notice you had been almost yelling. “Because when i touch you i feel like i can’t let you go. And i hate myself for getting so lost in you so easily. Cause i know it has to end when someone walks in the room or when we step out of our little hiding spots.”

You can see the hurt in his eyes but it doesn’t stop the worlds coming out. “But i forgive you every time. No matter how much the separation part kills me. Even if it means ignoring me, fuck- even dropping me on the floor. Richard i forgive you every time because i love you so damn much, but now I’m so....”

He doesn’t give you time to finish. You didn’t know if you even could to be honest. And this is what you meant. Forgiving him the second he encloses you in his chest, shedding all pain and tears in a single embrace. His hand pets your hair as you let it out quietly in his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so so sorry,” he chants over and over until you pull apart, finally able to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” You wipe your eyes and lift his chin from hanging disappointedly. “It’s no ones fault.” He plays with the hem of your shirt absentmindedly, something he did often when he was nervous or anxious. “But i still feel guilty, T/N you don’t deserve this.” His jaw tightens and you know he feels terrible.

“That’s why this ends now.” You feel sick for a split second before he finishes. “I saw the way you looked at me earlier and i couldn’t bear the idea of making you feel this way. So before i came up here to you I..” he stops and grabs your hands in his. “I told everyone the truth.”

Shock settles in and you wanna cry, laugh, scream, do anything to snap out of it. “Richard,” you start and he pulls something out of his pocket, a little black jewelry box. “I know this doesn’t make anything better, and i promise you I’ll make it all up to you somehow, but for now..”

You take the tiny package and pop it open. Eyes watering up yet again as you’re faced with the pretty gold earrings from earlier, paired beautifully with the daintiest gold ring you’ve ever seen. And the final piece, one of your favorite gold chains that Richard owned, must’ve had it on him close today. You’re able to crack a side smile and look up at his toothy goofy one in response.

“I thought that if we’re gonna be seen in public as a couple now, you might wanna be extra icy, flaunt it a lil bit.” He jokes and all pressure from before falls from your shoulders. His arms open, inviting you so sweetly and you can’t help but jump in.

“I love you, you know that?” He squeezes you and you feel it in his touch, his voice, in his everything. You kiss him in response and he knows you feel it too.

It’s almost a whole minute of his lips on yours until you feel some type of eyes on you from behind. You part in enough time to turn around and face the little creepers. “Bro seriously?” Richard whines and your cheeks flush red from embarrassment.

It’s Zabdi, Erick, Joel, and Chris with a very obvious phone up recording the whole scene, all of them choking up laughter. “I just wanted to see if you were serious.” Joel throws his hands up in defense.

“To be honest, i thought it’d be funny to record,” Erick confesses and looks over to Chris who replies “Yea, this is gonna look so good on Instagram.”