#not something you put on your dinner table

[hel1nn]

apologies ၄၃

𐔌 . ⋮ satoru gojo x fem reader .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ : angst to fluff | arguments | cursed words |

୨୧ : your boyfriend didn't replied to your texts and calls after leaving for a long mission.

Smau + written part below ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

Satoru sighs in frustration. He hadn't replied to your texts and calls because he was way too busy with work and.. forgot about you. So when he saw your texts he knew he fucked up. He continued his day, trying act everything was normal. Teaching his students then going on other missions blag blah. As always he came home late. Instead of using keys he teleported to your sharing apartment. There he saw you talking with someone on the phone, maybe shoko? Utahime. (Yes)

"i don't think he'll come home tonight" you sighed while talking on the phone, you were wearing on of his shirt, eyes puffy wnd tears stained cheeks, you didn't noticed satoru

"if you're not his top priority just leave him already"

"you don't understand,utahime. He didn't meant it like that but.."

"but what?"

"the way he told me i am not his top priority and if i don't understand i should just leave him,i don't know what to say but i got hurted so bad.."

With that you walked off to bedroom. You didn't noticed him standing Infront of your main door. The dinner left cold on the table. He felt guilty but didn't said anything. He got day off for few days. He sighed. He knew you wouldn't talk to him until all the anger you have disappeares.

-

He puts your portion of the food in the fridge after finishing his dinner. And then lays down on the couch , too scared to enter your room for now since he heard you sobbing there..he felt way more guilty than before but..he wasn't confident enough to approach you now. He sighed, thinking of ways you could forgive him. all the thinking took the best of him and then finally he fell asleep

You woke up a little later than usual,when you came out of your room and you saw satoru sleeping on the couch. You frowned seeing him like that. All you could do was covering him up with a blanket in the cold room. You called yaga asking if satoru got a day off or not,so when you heard he got few days for himself you sighed in relief. Leaving a simple breakfast with a too sweet coffee for satoru before you left for your work. Teaching the students as always, sparring and doing the usual things . But you were still sad about how satoru behaved with you yesterday. You weren't able to see him and now you ended up making things even messier. You don't know how you will greet him when you get home. After the long day when you finally arrived your shared apartment,you hear some noices coming from kitchen,when you go to check whats going on there you see satoru cooking something,hes face slightly covered in flour. A cake in the oven. Him trying to make steak for you on the other side. His six eyes immediately noticed you, looking at you with a nervous smile.

"sweets..your too early.." he mumbles, trying to find any kind of anger on your face. You sigh,trying not smile at him

"what are you doing.." you said as you make your way to satoru standing beside him with a soft frown on your face

Satoru sighed, finally giving you his full attention.

"i just wanted to apologise..for yesterday by...making you a dinner.." he pouted slightly, looking down. Looking like a puppy caught stealing food. He thought you'd say something like 'fuck off' but instead he hears a soft giggle, when he looks up fully he sees a soft smile on your face. You hand covering your mouth "your lucky iam not mad" when heard you say that it felt like a heavy weight got off of his back. He attacked you with a bone crushing hug with kisses and multiple 'sorry's about yesterday. You couldn't stop smiling,cheeks hurting from smiling actually, just like satoru. You helped him with making dinner. You don't know when was the last time you had a proper dinner with him. It doesn't matters now. All that matters right now is satoru.

[wibben]

Photogenic

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Nanami does not like his picture taken.

It’s a shame, really, because he’s painfully and effortlessly photogenic. Even the begrudging shots – the ones taken mid-grimace or right as that frown of his settles in – turn out looking unfairly good.

You’d seen it firsthand. There was that one birthday dinner at Shoko’s, where she’d caught him mid-toast, glass raised and mouth sloping into a small, tolerant smile as she snapped a quick shot of the table. The photo looked like something out of a magazine ad, his cheeks warmed from the sake, his eyes a little brighter. But when she’d tried to show him, he shook his head with an unimpressed grunt.

Or the time Gojo had insisted on a group photo after a team mission. Gojo teased Kento into standing there, arms crossed and brow knitted in simmering annoyance, looking thoroughly put out. But somehow, he just looked like he was on the cover of GQ: chin tilted just right, sleeves rolled up perfectly, even his hair slightly tousled from the fight before. You might’ve whimpered a little when Kento insisted it be deleted (and maybe almost sobbed again with joy when Gojo refused).

No matter the context, Kento managed to look remarkable. And yet, he loathed each and every photo ever taken of him.

You couldn’t quite place where this aversion came from. Maybe a bad childhood haircut immortalized in an old family album, or one too many “just one more!”s from well-meaning friends. Either way, you’d mostly given up trying to capture him on camera. He existed as some sort of cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster: either you knew him in person, or he didn’t exist at all. But that hadn’t stopped Yuji – occasional agent of chaos – from sneaking in a few shots here and there. And that’s where your favorite picture of him came from.

You remember the day it was taken vividly. 

You’d insisted on a celebratory lunch for Yuji – a reward for a particularly tough job handled with flying colors (or, in short, because he’d actually listened to Kento’s instructions). Yuji joked his way through most of the meal, poking fun at everything from Kento’s meticulous folding of his napkin to his tactical approach to his plate, eating in the order of salad, then sides, then his main course. 

It had been right after you’d done… well, you couldn’t remember exactly what, as unremarkable as it was. Maybe a bad impression of Gojo, maybe a terrible joke. But whatever it was, Kento broke, his shoulders dropping as he graced the table with a genuine, unrestrained laugh that only you seemed capable of pulling out of him. Yuji had been quick to draw, snapping the photo before either of you noticed. 

Later, Yuji sent it to you with a sly grin. “Mrs. Nanami’s gotta have the good stuff,” he’d whispered, nudging you as he tilted his phone towards you. 

You stared, speechless, your heart doing a little stammering skip. There it was – Kento, your Kento, laughing, his shoulders relaxed, the faint lines by his eyes softened by that rare brightness in his gaze as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it; you’d immediately favorited it the moment it hit your inbox, tucked it into a private album, and maybe, possibly, looked at it embarrassingly often.

A few weeks later, though not remotely forgotten to you, it remained blissfully unknown to him.

One evening as you flipped through your camera roll, Kento leaned over the back of the couch, his arm bracing himself as he studied the photos of the fancy dinner the two of you had recently gone to. You’d taken more than one, trying to capture every detail of the delicate plating at his insistence so he could try and recreate it at home.

“Do you have a close-up of that risotto?” he asked, leaning in closer, his arm casually wound around the front of your chest and his breath drifting soft feathers across your cheek. “I want to see how they plated it.”

You nodded with an affirmative hum, flipping back a few photos – only to scroll back just a bit too far and that picture fills your screen, in all of it’s HD, no-longer-secret glory.

Your heart tripped as Kento’s gaze landed on it. You felt the warmth of his presence beside you grow a bit more rigid as he examined the photo, brows raising ever so slightly.

“...That isn’t dinner,” he remarked, clearing his throat beside your ear.

“Oh! That’s, um, just a… candid,” you stumbled, trying desperately for nonchalance. “Yuji took it, and it’s a really nice picture and I don’t have many, so I just…” your efforts to play it cool are skillfully undone by the plucking of your nerves… self-imposed, of course, because Kento remains quiet.

But he was still looking at it, brows drawing together as he studied it with a rare, quiet intensity.

“You favorited it,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you.

His voice was low, gentle, but you stewed with nervousness all the same. “Well, I mean – look at you!” you laughed, feeling shy under his gaze, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “The only pictures I have of you smiling are from our wedding! Let me have this–”

Kento plucked the phone from your hands and you screeched, immediately trying to claw it back. “Wait, don’t delete it!” you laughed, a cauldron of nerves and panic bubbling in your chest as he holds it just out of reach of your swiping hands, his mouth curving in that calm way it always does. You’re sure he’s about to grumble about “nonsense” or “unnecessary photos” or “living in the moment.”

But he didn’t delete it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and held your phone closer to his face, gazing down at the screen with a gentleness that stopped your protests cold. You caught the flicker of something tender in his eyes as he studied the photo – lingering on you, the way you lean toward him, how happy you look together.

He was silent for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Then, almost shyly, “Could you… send it to me?”

You felt your eyebrows lift to be lost in your hairline, staring at him as if he’d just asked for the moon. “You… you want me to send it?”

He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to keep it.”

Your heart did a little stutter, a flash of warmth rushing to your face as you quickly sent him the photo. You didn’t think your grin could get any wider – but it did as you watched him save it, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, holding on to a picture of himself simply because it had been yours.

The next morning, with toothbrush in hand and foam dripping down your chin, you checked your phone and blinked, frozen in the middle of a brushstroke. That picture – that picture – was staring back at you as his profile picture, right there on the one or two social media accounts he’d reluctantly made but never actually used. You barely resisted the urge to squeal.

And then, later that day, it happened again: catching the briefest flash of his phone screen across the kitchen table, you saw the photo on his lock screen too. He looked up, catching your wide-eyed staring with a soft smile, one that was just for you, and undeniably better than any picture could ever be.

[fungateshortcakes]

It was nice while it lasted

My (now ex) best friend just ended our four year friendship, said she didn't see any future in it because we weren't chatting as much as we used to. She was my best friend, but i wasn't hers. I probably haven't been for a while. My birthday is this sunday and I wished she hadn't done this just two days before my birthday. I need comfort, so here is a short Logan drabble♡

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant!reader

Wordcount: 1k-ish, maybe a bit less

Warnings: english isn't my first language, none, just fluff, and a bit angst, friends to lovers, implied chubby reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You sniffled quietly as you looked down at your bright phone screen. I'd like to break off contact. You read it over and over again. You had hoped you would never have to see these words, not with her. You were so stupid to think that your friendship would get repaired somehow.

You lived at the x men mansion, she lived far away in another city. So meeting each other was rare. The first time you met, she slept over in the mansion. Everyone liked her and you both had a great time. You would have done everything to get that back, that time, these moments when everything seemed like it was just how it was supposed to be.

After she finally found a job after searching for months, everything changed. She didn't answer your texts anymore, only if you were lucky. You tried to reach for her, tried to talk to her. But her replies were sparse and often dry. Said it was because she didn't know how to answer your texts and that she was so tired every day from work.

You tried to be understanding, tried to reassure her that it was alright. But when you saw pics of another girl on her instagram and later some random guy that turned out to be her new boyfriend, you felt it. That ache. You weren't her best friend any more. She could easily live without you. You were the only one suffering. You needed her, but she didn't need you.

You sat on your bed, wiping your tears. Why were you so damn stupid, you should have seen it coming. You were no ones favourite, you never have been. You weren't the number one for anybody, no one would chose you in a room full of people. You knew that, and that hurt.

Suddenly, the door to your room opened. It was Logan, he had a plate loaded with your favourite food in hand. He wasn't looking at you yet. "I got you some food, bub. Why weren't you down for dinner-" he started to ask but as he lifted his head and saw your tear stained face, his brows knitted together on his handsome face and he strided over to you with purpose, putting the plate on your beside table. "What's going on, bub?" He asked in the softest voice he could muster.

Your voice was hoarse and you just couldn't get a word out. He climbed into bed with you, sitting next to you and wrapping one arm around your shoulder to pull you against his side, his head on top of yours as he let you cry and shake in his arms. He wore that grey oversized sweater with nothing underneath. The fabric was so soft under your cheek. And so warm, smelling like him. You shoved your unrequited feelings aside, trying to calm your racing heart as he hugged you.

As Logan let you sob, his gaze shifted to your phone that laid abandoned on the sheets. I'd like to break off contact. He read the name over the chat and it dawned on him. He didn't need more information to know exactly what happened. You had always talked about your best friend and he had even met her one time. She was decent back then, but you would always come to him to vent when your best friend did something that hurt you. He had always told you to drop her, that she wasn't good for you, that you had so many friends and people that actually loved you around you every day. With people he meant himself. He loved you so much but never spoke up.

There was a time where he thought you and your best friend were together. Back then you'd get that question a lot because you were just that close. He was a bit salty about it and secretly hoped you would break up. When he found out you weren't actually together, he was awfully happy about it, a kick in his step.

As bad as it sounded, he was glad that the horror was finally over. He had witnessed your mental health worsen every time you beat yourself up over your best friend. He was frustrated when you blamed everything on yourself and wouldn’t see how bad she was for you. Still, he understood your tears. There had been a time where she really was your best friend and you loved her, you could tell her anything back then. And that was the version of her that you missed, the version you still held onto.

"I know this sounds rough, but you are better off without her" he mumbled against your temple, planting an experimental kiss there. As you didn't back away, he saw it as an invitation to leave his lips pressed against the side of your head. You hiccuped, nuzzling even further into him. "Why...why does it always happen to me? Why can't I keep friends, why do I always get so attached when I am worth nothing for the other person?" you questioned, voice thick from the tears. "All I want is to be loved by someone just as much as I love them" you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, but it didn't seem to budge.

He loved you. He loved you like you loved him. He did, so badly. But both of you didn't know. And it was eating you up inside.

You pulled back to look into his eyes "Am I unloveable, Logan? Don't lie to make me feel better" you asked him. You always told you that you couldn't be loved. But slowly you really started to believe it. I mean, who could possibly love someone like you? You were chubby, pretty introverted and didn't dress like the average. You had been bullied all your life for your looks, your personality and your mutation. The fat funny friend is who you were, the one that got asked out as a joke and was told, that they couldn't imagine you in a relationship. It was something you never truly learned to live with. You tried to hold onto the illusion that was love, hoped that one day it would find you like in the sappy romance movies you watched. You doubted it.

Your question hit Logan like a ton of bricks. "Unloveable? Are you even hearing yourself?" He asked and you had never seen him this shocked. You couldn't understand why. You had expected him to agree with you, allthough you never wanted to hear that from him.

Ever so gently, he held your soft face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his strong thumb. "You are the most easiest person to love, trust me on that"

Unbelieving, you shook your head. "I said don't lie-" you started but he shushed you quickly, your head secure in his grip as he forced you to look at him. "Look into my eyes and tell me that I am lying. Come on. Say it" he urged you on, his gaze intense and burning that it took your breath away, silencing any words you might have had. Even though you didn't correct him, he knew you weren't believing him.

He sighed, it would take a while to get all these insecurities out of your head. And your heart. But you were worth that effort.

"Let me show you just how much I love you" he mumbled before your heart threatened to jump out of your chest as his lips landed on yours. It was everything you had ever hoped it would be and you could almost not believe that this was real, that you weren't dreaming.

Pulling away, more tears spilled over your cheeks and Logan panicked. "Oh- shit, I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me" he coughed, his neck burning red in embarrassement. He was taking advantage of you, wasn’t he?

But before he could slide off your bed, you pulled at his sleeve. "No, no, it was alright. You couldn't have reacted any better" you giggled through your tears. His breath hitched as you zipped down his hoodie to snuggle against his warm, bare chest. You could feel his heartbeat quicken underneath your ear, though Logan quickly eased against the contact.

He zipped his hoodie back up behind you, keeping you close to him as you cuddled and kissed on your bed with this newfound information of you both having pinned for each other for years. You felt warm and safe and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything would be okay.

As long as he was with you.

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This was painful to write and incredibly personal in some aspects. I know that this probably won't gain as much attention because of that, as it may not be relatable for most.

But still, if you are going through something similiar, you aren't alone. There are many people that struggle, that feel this way about themselves. And while knowing that this doesn't really sooth the ache, it will get better. One day. I hope.

[0omillo0]

warnings: eating disorder, throwing up

angst ; comfort ;༊๋࣭

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You’d been quieter lately. Seungmin had noticed it first in small ways: the way you would lose yourself in thought during dinner, the lingering sadness in your eyes when you thought no one was looking, the way you seemed to avoid food altogether. He watched you tonight from across the table, his heart sinking as you pushed your meal around on your plate, barely touching it.

“Not hungry?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

Your head snapped up, and you forced a small smile. “Oh, yeah… just not that hungry. It’s been a long day, I guess.”

He nodded, but a part of him didn’t believe you. You were always honest with him—except lately, there seemed to be something you couldn’t or wouldn’t say. He watched as you took a couple of bites, enough to satisfy his gaze before you put down your fork and excused yourself to your shared room.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean up,” Seungmin called after you, sighing when he heard the bedroom door close. As he collected the dishes, he glanced at yours: half-eaten, barely touched.

For the next few nights, it was the same pattern: you would pick at your food, make up an excuse, and disappear as soon as dinner was over. You’d come back with your eyes red-rimmed, like you’d been crying. Seungmin had so many questions swirling in his mind, but he was hesitant to push you.

One evening, after another half-eaten meal, he waited until you went to the bathroom before standing outside the door, listening. He hated himself for it, feeling like he was invading your privacy, but he was desperate. Then he heard it—the faint sound of you crying and the unmistakable sound of retching.

His heart clenched, and he forced himself to wait. When you emerged, looking drained and pale, he was there, standing in the hallway. You jumped, clearly surprised to see him.

“Seungmin? I—what are you doing?”

His expression was soft, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, looking away. “I… just needed some air.”

“Air?” He took a step closer, his voice laced with concern. “I heard you. I know you’ve been throwing up, and I don’t understand why. Can you please talk to me?”

The gentle plea in his voice broke you, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. You tried to wipe them away, embarrassed, but Seungmin caught your hands in his, pulling you close.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, voice muffled against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He rubbed your back soothingly, his other hand gently cradling the back of your head. “Hey, you don’t need to apologize. Just… help me understand. Please.”

You hesitated, pulling back slightly, but Seungmin’s gaze was so full of love and concern that it gave you the courage to speak.

“I just… I feel like I’m not enough,” you whispered, barely meeting his eyes. “I look at all these perfect girls on Instagram—models, influencers, all of them, and I just… I don’t look like that. I hate the way I look. I hate that I’m not…” Your voice trailed off, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

Seungmin’s face twisted in pain, his hands tightening around yours. “You think you’re not enough for me? Do you really believe that?”

“I just… I look at you, and you’re so perfect. You’re beautiful and talented, and I don’t know why you would even want someone like me,” you said, voice barely a whisper. “Every time I see those pictures, I just… I feel like I’m failing you. Like you deserve better.”

Seungmin’s face softened, and he pulled you closer, letting you rest your head on his chest. His voice was quiet but steady, filled with a kind of strength that you hadn’t realized you needed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his words firm. “I love you exactly as you are. You don’t have to look like anyone else or be anyone else for me. You’re already everything to me.”

You tried to respond, but the words were lost in a sob. He held you tightly, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cried, his presence a balm to the raw wound of your insecurities.

After a few moments, he gently tilted your face up, looking into your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I would have been here for you. I would have helped you.”

“I didn’t want to burden you,” you mumbled. “I thought… maybe I could fix it on my own.”

Seungmin sighed, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “You don’t have to do that alone. I’m here with you. We’re in this together, remember? I need you to let me in.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding. “I’m sorry… I know it sounds silly.”

“It doesn’t,” he said quickly, his tone fierce. “Nothing you feel is silly. Your feelings matter to me.”

You searched his eyes, finding only warmth and compassion. A new wave of emotion washed over you, but this time it was one of relief—a relief so profound it almost took your breath away.

“You mean that?” you whispered.

“Of course I do.” He took your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “We’re a team, right? Whatever you’re going through, whatever you feel… I want to know about it. I want to be there for you.”

For the first time in weeks, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I don’t deserve you.”

He let out a soft laugh, bringing your hand to his lips. “You deserve the world. And if you can’t see it, then I’ll just have to remind you every day until you do.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart swell, and you felt a warmth spread through you, like a light piercing through the dark cloud that had settled over you for so long. You squeezed his hand, a silent promise that you’d try—that you’d let him help you heal.

Over the next few days, Seungmin kept his promise. He was there for you every step of the way, watching you with that same gentle, steady love. He encouraged you, reminding you of all the things he adored about you, and slowly, you found yourself believing him.

It wasn’t an instant change; you still struggled. Some days were better than others, but Seungmin never wavered. And every time you started to doubt yourself, every time the old insecurities crept back, he was there, holding you, grounding you, reminding you of his love.

One evening, after a long day, you both sat on the couch, his arms wrapped around you as you leaned into his warmth. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“For what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For… for being here. For understanding.”

He hugged you tighter, his voice soft and comforting. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. And I’ll keep reminding you every day, as many times as you need, how much I love you.”

You looked up at him, your heart full, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace—a peace that came from knowing you were truly loved, just as you were.

tag list : @intartaruginha @hannamoon143

[dollishbabess]

Do you do batfamily? I literally love your profile aesthetic and I think it would be really cool something like girly reader who is the youngest in the batfamily, I think it would be funny the boys dealing with her and everything. ily🤍

“I PRESSED HIDE ICONS BUT I CAN STILL SEE ME” ── .✦ DOLLISH ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

A/n: this literally made me laugh but tysm ily too, but literally i tried to balance this with sass + a girl who likes pink and other colors instead of stereotypical pink girly girl and etc but if this is not correct then sorry because i only have one sister and a brother and i’m oldest out of all of them.

tags: batfamily x girly!batsis

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

The manor is, of course, dark and filled with heavy, old-fashioned furniture. Meanwhile, you’re room is beautiful with subtle hints of pink decor and white, and a beautiful walk in closet, and your room is the only spot with cozy, neutral decor and soft pinks, which you somehow convinced Alfred was “tasteful and happy”

Bruce pretends he doesn’t notice the little decorative changes you make around the house, like the rose-gold lamp in the hallway or the fresh flowers on the dining table. Alfred, though, secretly loves it because it makes the place feel a little less like a ‘depressive episode’ (I’m convinced if someone suicidal went in that manor they would likely fucking commit at this rate).

“CINDERELLA ARE YOU FUCKING READY?!” ── .✦

When you go to family dinners or galas, the boys have come to expect that you’ll need at least an hour to get ready. They used to complain, but now they’ve just accepted it (even if it means sleeping while standing up waiting) And you’re always perfectly dressed, from your hair to your jewelry.

Tim once asked why you had to wear rings on your ring finger without being married, and without missing a beat, you responded, “Because I need to let people know I have style standards, maybe you can learn a or two about fashion, your dressed like a fucking caveman.”

“ITS EXPLAINABLE” ── .✦

Alfred has somehow become your unofficial shopping partner, knowing all your preferred stores and patiently sitting outside the fitting rooms. He’s the only one who will willingly go with you without complaint, and he even knows which colors you like best

Once, Bruce was caught off guard by a credit card alert because it was awhile someone spent THAT much money and asked Alfred about it. Alfred just responded calmly, “It was for necessary purchases, Master Wayne,” even though the “necessary purchases” included a ton of “designer” things.

── .✦

Damian once challenged you to a chess match, thinking he could beat you easily. Halfway through, you made a risky move, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “You’re about to see a queen move.” Damian lost, and he’s still confused about how it happened.

One morning, Dick said, “Isn’t it a little early for all the glam and glitter?” You just gave him a look and said, “Isn’t it a little late for you to be alive, your social security number is probably one.

YOUR BEAUTY PRODUCTS BECOMING A ATTEMPT ON PEOPLES LIVES ── .✦

Bruce has almost tripped on your eyelash curler twice. The family has also officially banned you from putting skincare masks in the fridge after Jason mistook your green tea gel eye masks for some kind of salad topping (the worse part is… he ate the whole thing and didn’t realize until he went shopping trying to find the exact one until he found it in the skincare aisle instead of the salad dressing aisle…)

Tim opened the wrong drawer in your room once, and it looked like a makeup frenzy had exploded. Lip glosses, nail polishes, tiny skincare samples, and sheet masks cascaded out, and he just stood there, baffled by how much one person could need, (he thought you ran a business for a few days after.)

── .✦

You also gave Bruce a mini heart attack when you told him you wanted a different laptop because “this one’s too boring.” The Batcomputer tech isn’t boring, but you wanted a rose-gold case and “a vibe,” so Bruce ended up ordering one in the exact shade you wanted.

The family group chat is complete chaos. You regularly send pictures of quotes from romance novels, and the occasional inspirational meme with sparkles. Once, you sent a photo of the living room and asked, “Could we get some lighter curtains in here? For my aesthetic and mental well being?”

Whenever someone’s late, you flood the chat with passive-aggressive texts like, “Jason, do you know what ‘be here at 6 PM’ means?” or “Dick, if you’re any later, I’ll be old enough to vote for Kamala at this rate.”

MOVIE NIGHTS ── .✦

You insist on watching rom-coms and dramas instead of the usual action movies. Even though the boys groan, you’ve noticed they secretly enjoy the movies by the end. Tim tried to deny it, but he was caught laughing at a scene in white chicks and you swore to never let him forget it.

Once, you convinced them to watch a “fall aesthetic” movie marathon, complete with hot chocolate and fuzzy blankets. Even Jason joined in, and you teased him the whole night, whispering, “Don’t pretend you don’t love a good blanket.

THE OFFICAL FASHION GURU FINALBOSS 💜 ── .✦

You’ve taken it upon yourself to occasionally “advise” the boys on their fashion. If Tim wears a hoodie that’s “two shades too close to ‘depression’ ” you’ll be the first to tell him. You even convinced Damian to try a collared shirt once, though he looked horrified.

Dick gets roasted the most. He walked out wearing cargo shorts once, and you deadpan, “Going for the ‘i’m so old i saw humans evolve’ look i see.” He didn’t change, but he was clearly a little self-conscious the whole day (he never wore cargo shorts ever again…)

SKINCARE TIPS ── .✦

You’ve taught the boys some random facts they never knew, like the importance of hyaluronic acid for skincare and the difference between ballet flats and loafers. They pretend to brush it off, but you’ve overheard Jason giving roy skincare advice using the tips you shared.

When Bruce had a minor scratch on his face from patrol, you casually handed him concealer. “Just dab, blend, and don’t tell anyone,” you said. He followed the instructions without a word (he used to do that before, just impressed you also knew)

THE BABY OF THE FAMILY ── .✦

As the youngest, you know how to work the “baby sister” angle like a pro. The boys are fiercely protective, and any time you need a ride, money for something “totally essential,” or help with homework, you can count on one of them stepping up.

Once, you asked Damian to grab something from a high shelf for you, and when he hesitated, you hit him with, “Guess i really am alone without a good brother..” He ended up grabbing it for you with a grumble, but you swear you saw him smirk.

@dollishbabess made by me, do not translate, or repost or copy.

Second divider: @cafekitsune, other dividers not sure I kinda forgot sorry

[written-with-clouds]

I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be) Epilogue

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen/ Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Seven years have passed since Aemond took you back to Dragonstone. Six years have passed since Rhaenyra took to the Iron Throne as the rightful queen.

Authors Note: Cross posted on AO3,

CW: Nongraphic childbirth

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Mama! Mama!” The bed shakes, bouncing you awake, though you refuse to open your eyes as sleep clings to you. “Mama! Wake up wake up wake up!” The excited squealing of your five year old daughter continues and you fight the urge to smile.

“Vis, I told you to let her sleep.” Comes the hushed voice of your husband. You hear his boots against the stone floor as he crosses over to the bed and lifts your daughter into his arms. 

“But I want to show her what I drew..” Your daughter responds, the pout on her face evident in her tone. “I know issa byka zaldrīzes (my little dragon), but you can show her when she wakes up. On her own.” Aemond explains softly. His footsteps receding as he exits the room and you drift back off sleep.

You stir awake again a while later as the bed dips behind you. This time, instead of the excited bouncing that woke you earlier, it’s a warm body pressing against your back and an arm sliding around your middle. Gentle lips kiss a pattern over your shoulder and the side of your neck, leading up to your ear. 

“Happy birthday, issa ābrazȳrys (my wife),” Aemond whispers against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. 

“Mmm” You sigh deeply, relaxing back against him. You place your arm on top of his and intertwine your fingers. “What time is it?” 

“Not quite noon, still plenty of time before the dinner tonight.” 

“Not quite noon… How did you manage to keep Visenya occupied?” 

“It wasn’t easy. But luckily her attention span isn't that great,” Aemond jokes causing you to laugh. Your laughter, it seems, is good for summoning children, as not even a minute later your daughter is jumping onto the bed.

“Mama!” She squeals cheerfully.

“Hello, my dear”

“Happy birthday mama! I made you something!” She beams, holding out a scribbled drawing. You can just kind of make out three figures; you, Aemond, and your daughter. In the background is another, larger, figure that’s really no more than a gray blob. 

“Is this Vhagar?” You ask pointing to the blob figure. Visenya nods rapidly, making your head and neck hurt just watching her. “It's beautiful, baby… thank you”

“How can she have so much energy?” Aemond asks. The two of you are watching Visenya play with her dragon in the garden. She chases after the fledgling as it hops around, ducking in and out of different bushes. 

“I don’t know, but from the feel of things, this little one will give her a run for her money.” You chuckle, rubbing your hand over the swollen bump of your stomach. The baby inside kicks, further proving your point.

Aemonds hand joins yours as he leans over to coo at the unborn child, “If you can tire your sister, you’ll be my favorite.” 

“Hush,” you smack at his shoulder lightly and he kisses first your stomach and then your lips.

You, Aemond, and Visenya walk through the doors into the dining hall. Your daughter practically sprints towards Daemon as he crouches to her level. She squeals loudly as he lifts her up and spins her around.

“Oh, my darling.” Your mother says, opening her arms wide and embracing you. She kisses your forehead, “Happy birthday..” Just as soon as she releases you, your brothers Luke and Jace are enveloping you in their own hugs, mirrored happy birthdays spilling from their lips. Rhaena, Baela, And Helaena following suit. 

You respond to everyone with a kind smile and a bashful, “Thank you.” Everyone settles around the table as the servants start to bring out the food. Plate after plate of your favorite dishes are placed around the table and you give your mother a knowing look. 

“Don’t start,” She responds, wiggling a finger at you playfully. You put your hands up in surrender and Aemond chuckles beside you. The table dissolves into several small conversations. Lord Corlys and his wife talked politics with your mother, while Daemon and Aemond had a debate over who would win in a fight between the two of them—your daughter dutifully taking her favorite grandfather’s side, much to your husband’s dismay. Jace, Luke and Rhaena were animatedly discussing something at the end of the table while you, Baela and Helaena theorized what the topic was. 

Laughter and music rang through the hall as the night went on. At some point, your daughter had crawled into Aemonds lap and was currently fighting a losing battle with sleep. 

He places a hand on your thigh to get your attention, “I’m going to put her to bed..” 

“No, let me do it..” You insist. “You had her this morning, I’ll put her to bed.” 

“Darling, she’s practically a dead weight.. you shouldn’t be carrying her.” 

“Then let’s do it together. And before you argue, just know I’m coming whether you want me to or not.” 

Aemond sighs and smiles softly, a sight reserved for you alone. He stands and waits for you. As you stand, you notice a dull pain in your abdomen but think nothing of it, those short pains weren’t abnormal at this stage in your pregnancy. Walking up the stairs, another pain shoots through you. You grip the handrail, leaning against it as you double over. Groaning loudly, you clench your eyes shut. 

You can distantly hear Aemond passing your still sleeping daughter off to a handmaiden before his muffled voice is closer, asking if you’re okay. One of his hands touches the small of your back softly but the touch does little to ease your nerves. 

You feel something run down your leg and hurriedly pull and push at the fabric of your dress. Sticking your hand under your dress, you feel for where it’s the most wet. Swiping your fingers through the liquid before removing your hand from the fabric of your dress, sighing in relief when you see that it’s a clear liquid and not the red color of blood. 

As your pain subsides and the panic in your heart calms you look at Aemond, who is still by your side. “The baby is coming.”

You labored for nearly two days. Your mother helped guide you through the birth, just as she had when Visenya was born. She grasped your clammy hand in hers while the wetnurses rushed about the room. She walked you back and forth in the chamber to help move things along, told you stories to distract you from the pain. 

Aemond paced outside the doors to your shared chamber, anxiously wringing his hands. Daemon had taken on the job of watching Visenya so that he could focus on you and your newborn. For nearly two days Aemond didn’t sleep, barely ate, and pestered the Maesters for information anytime one left the room. And then, finally, Aemond heard the shrill cry of a baby. Rhaenyra was the first to exit the room, embracing Aemond. 

She pulled back and smiled at him, “Your wife misses you. And your child wants to meet you.”

Aemond enters the room quietly. His eye immediately landing on your tired, disheveled, form. And even with your hair laying wild around you and your skin shining with sweat, he still believes you to be the most beautiful woman in the world. 

A small bundle of cloth lays against your bare chest. You coo at it, gently rubbing a hand along the back of it. Aemond sits next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder and kissing your temple. 

You smile at him, tired and content. “Aemond… meet your son, Aerys.” 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@hydrationqueensworld

@strangersunghoon

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine…Jensen Asking For A Puppy

Pairing: Jensen x reader

_______

Jensen had been strange all throughout dinner but you couldn’t put your finger on it. When you were halfway through dessert and one last drink he leaned over the table and you saw he had his puppy dog eyes on.

“Ackles. Tell me you did not take me out to my favorite restaurant to butter me up.”

“Me? I would never,” he said innocently, his cheeks soft, eyes big. “I’m just admiring your beauty.”

“Nah this ain’t cute as shit Jensen tonight. This is up to something Jensen. Spill or I’m not letting you past first base,” you said, eating a piece of cake.

“I just…was thinking…maybe…we could get a puppy and I already found this really cute one at the rescue yesterday and I put a hold on him and he’s so adorable and he’s a little dog but so fluffy and I figured we could adopt him cause I don’t like you being home alone and you don’t like being home alone and we’re supposed to pick him up at nine in the morning and then take him to the vet which I already have scheduled and here’s a picture cause he’s so cute.” He held a phone in front of your face as you blinked slowly, Jensen holding up a tiny dog with a big smile on his face. “How do you say no to that face?”

“Jensen. Did you adopt a dog without talking to me? At all?”

“Yes but I didn’t mean to. I just went to see how it all works and I looked at the dogs and he just…that’s my guy.” You rolled your eyes, Jensen tucking his phone away and back to giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“I thought you wanted to get me some big dog to defend me or something.”

“He’s small but he’ll protect you. Please? I know I should have talked to you first but-“

“Why that dog.”

“He’s my guy.”

“Jensen. Why. That. Dog. You were very adamant about wanting a big dog.”

“Well he was gonna get put down. He has anxiety and his past two owners didn’t like that. He’s been hard to adopt out but we can handle something like that. I know-“

“Shush. You’re an idiot. We’re adopting him. Just…let me join in next time you sweet ridiculous man. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, sitting back in his seat with a big smile. “Can do sweetie.”

__________

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with an autistic partner

Requested? Yes!

Genre: just a ton of comfort

Seungcheol 

Totally lets you practice conversations with him. It took a single time of you being anxious about making what feels like a simple phone call and he’s getting to the bottom of it. When you tell him that sometimes you’re intimidated by carrying conversation and tend to overthink it, he simply asks you to pretend it’s with him. You think he might make fun of you, but he’s gentle about guiding you in what to say to certain things. Now it’s common practice to ask him to rehearse something with you before you do it, but if it ever gets to be too much, he’ll just pick up the phone and make the call for you, no problem.

Jeonghan

Now this is a guy who has an emotional support sword, so he totally gets the need to fidget. It’s grounding and helps him focus, so when you’re out to dinner with friends and he notices you’re not really present, he’ll put an extra straw or chopstick in your hands to twirl. When you ask him later how he knew what you needed, he brushes you off. He’ll always find you something to fidget with, even if it’s his own hand or hoodie string. You find yourself just reaching for him rather than anything else if you feel that particular feeling coming on, and it makes him smile that you feel comfortable depending on him like that.

Joshua

I’m so sorry, but I just love the idea of Joshua being kind of crafty. He notices you’re feeling a little overstimulated one day and pulls you to the table, putting a coloring book and colored pencils in front of you. You look at him, almost offended, because you are an adult, damn it!!! But he asks you to humor him, picking out two pages, one for you and one for him. It does wonders, giving you something to focus on in a time of internal chaos. You lose a lot of time to it and when you finally check back in, he’s smiling lovingly at you, asking if you feel a little better. It’s a regular habit now to sit and do something like this just because and you’re touched that he seems to enjoy it as much as you do.

Jun

He notices that sometimes you’re avoidant of conversation with others, and one time he asks why. You admit that sometimes you feel like you misread or totally miss social cues and facial expressions and it makes you anxious thinking about how you might butcher a seemingly simple conversation. But listen. He’s the perfect person to tell this to. Sometimes, before bed, he’ll make faces at you, sometimes subtle and sometimes not, and then ask you to read them. You’re embarrassed by this at first, but eventually you come around to this little game because he’s so gentle about guiding you, telling you what to look for. Furrowed eyebrows = confused or angry. Blushing = embarrassed or shy. Tight jaw = stressed or angry. It lets you learn it in a safe environment and you find that the longer you do it, the more comfortable you are in conversation in daily life.

Hoshi

This is so simple. He’s a yapper!! He’ll do all the talking in social settings and doesn’t force you to participate. If you do happen to be pulled into conversation, he’s quick to give you an encouraging smile, but he’s also quick to give you an escape by changing the subject if he can tell today is just not the day. But at home, he’s the listener because he always tries to find the things that you like to yap about. He’s aware that you do a lot of listening in day to day life, and in the privacy of your home, it’s his turn to listen. 

Wonwoo

Whereas Joshua helps you find hyper fixations, Wonwoo helps you control how much time and energy you lose to those hyper fixations. Interests are good, he tells you, and he’d never change anything about you, but he will not let you stay up all night. He will not let you skip a meal. He will not let you forget the important things. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s so so gentle about it. It’s all ‘Baby, come eat and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, come to bed and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, you need to go get ready for work, but tell me all about it later, okay?’. It brings balance to your life that you didn't realize you desperately needed. 

Woozi

Cliche, I know, but his studio is his hide out from the rest of the world. The catch is that it can also be yours. Sometimes, it’s nice to just come in and disassociate for a while after an overwhelming day and he lets you do it in total silence with headphones on if you want. But sometimes, he’ll pull you over to sit next to him and put his headphones on you to listen to something he’s working on. One time, you told him that you found his music and his voice relaxing, so he thinks about that when he makes what he makes. He likes that you use it for comfort and it motivates him. 

DK

You’re putting off doing something like going to the post office to mail something. Seokmin notices that this package has been sitting there for a while and asks you about it. When you admit that you don’t know how the whole post office thing works, he asks you to explain what you mean. Kind of embarrassed, you admit that you don’t understand the structure of it. Where’s the line? What do you say when you get up to the front? What kind of questions might they ask? Is there anything you should be asking them for? This sweet, sweet man makes you get up and physically act the whole thing out with him in the comfort of your living room without a single laugh. You’re still nervous the next day when you go and finally mail this stupid package out, but Seokmin enthusiastically cheers you on when he notices it’s gone later that night. 

Mingyu

He notices a few quirks since living with you. For example, you can’t simply do the dishes. When he asks why you unloaded the dishwasher, but didn’t empty the sink, he isn’t trying to be mean, but he doesn’t understand when you say it’s too big of a job to do in one go. He asks what you mean, and you explain that it’s not just ‘doing the dishes’ for you. It’s unloading the dishwasher, and putting the clean dishes away, then loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes and getting into the cabinet to get detergent and fill the little compartment with it. Then it’s starting the dishwasher and putting back the detergent, only to have to do it all again tomorrow. His eyes widen a bit at your rant, but then he sweetly says, ‘Okay, baby. Do it however you need to’. He’ll never say anything about it again, but it doesn’t stop him from just doing the dishes amongst other chores himself the next day because he doesn’t want you to stress about it like that. 

Minghao

One time, after not seeing you for a little bit due to busy schedules, Minghao asks how you’re doing. You say you don’t know. He quirks his eyebrow. “Don’t know as in Not Good?” You shake your head. “No, I just don’t know.” He carefully asks questions, seeking to understand, and realizes it’s not that you don’t feel anything. You just don’t really know how to put a name to it. After that, some date nights feel a little bit like therapy, just short of the ‘and how did that make you feel?’ For example, you tell him about a rough meeting at work that day and he asks, “Did you feel frustrated by it?” You think and finally say, “Yeah, maybe”. Over time, it turns into an ‘I think I’m frustrated’ and then finally a definitive ‘I’m frustrated’. He’s really proud that you can express yourself more clearly because that means he can help you more.

Seungkwan

You don’t do well with change, and he totally understands it. When he goes away for work, he understands that it breaks your routine in a lot of ways. He starts by giving you a heads up as soon as he knows that some travel is coming up, putting it on a shared calendar - both physical and electronic. In the weeks ahead of this trip, he’s reminding you gently, “I leave in a couple weeks”. It’s not to be mean, anything but. It’s to help you mentally prepare for the incoming change. He helps you in little ways in those couple weeks, making sure you have your alarm set automatically, making a meal plan to stick on the fridge and scheduling a grocery delivery with everything you’ll need for it, putting gas in your car in case you need to use it, etc. He also asks you what you’d like to do with your down time while he’s gone, suggesting a binge of a book or TV series that you liked before. He knows you’re not a child and would never treat you as such, but he wants you to feel comfortable going about life as usual when he has to be gone and can’t be there to do those little things for you himself. So he does everything he can to make sure that everything else is as routine as possible. 

Vernon

One of the things he loves most about you is that you guys can just coexist in the same space in total silence. It’s not unusual for you both to sit on opposite ends of the couch, headphones on, doing your own thing. And sometimes, he knows this is your preference to not really talk out loud. Still, he’ll text you to check in, even if you’re just a few feet away from him. Sometimes you have entire conversations through text like this and he really, truly doesn’t mind. There’s something intimate about it for him in a way he can’t really explain, and he likes that you’re comfortable with that mode of communication, even if you’ve had a hard day. Yeah, you’ll have to pry his phone from his cold, dead hands for this reason alone. 

Chan

One night, you tell him you’re feeling pretty anxious. He doesn’t ask why, but he can tell your nervous energy isn’t going to just go away anytime soon. So, he offers for you two to go to the gym. You gape at him. “It's the middle of the night, Chan.” “And the gym is open 24 hours. It’ll probably be empty. Let’s give it a try, maybe you can work off some of your energy.” Midnight trips to the gym are a regular thing for you guys now, because he was totally right. It’s usually empty and it does help shut off your brain enough to go home and get some sleep. You feel bad about it sometimes because of the hours he keeps for his job, but he won’t hear anything about it because he’ll go with you to do anything to put your mind at ease. 

[act-nat-ural]

First Sight

@dira333: what if you're related or friends with the Miya twins and they accidentally or not set you up with someone on the msby roster? Meian is really cute if you know the manga, but there's also Sakusa, Hinata or Bokuto

word count: 1782

Osamu had already closed Miya Onigiri for the day, yet his two favorite moochers were still sitting at a booth consuming his food for free. He sighs, having already locked the doors, and put the chairs on top of the tables. He takes a seat next to Atsumu and joins your guys’ conversation. “I’m just sayin’,” Atsumu starts, “If yer so lonely, go out an’ meet someone. It's not that hard.”He finishes his sentence by taking a gigantic bite. He nods to himself like he made a great point, though you and Osamu are giving him side eyes. 

“And how would ya know that? Ya haven’t gone on a date in over three months.” You point out.

Osamu snorts and adds, “Last relationship I remember you cryin’ like a baby, saying’ that ya would never love again.” 

Atsumu scoffs and mumbles a “Shuddup!” while you let out a deep sigh and rest your head on the cool surface of the table. “It's not fair.” You whine. “I've got like, no love life. Why don’t ya set me up with yer hot friends?” 

They share a look for a minute, then at the same time say “No.” You scoff and slam a hand on the table. 

“Why the hell not!” 

Osamu raises his hands in defense while Atsumu enters ‘big brother mode’. “Yer our only sister, and I love ya too much to set ya up with the idiots I call friends. Yer too good for them!” You roll your eyes but he continues. “Omi probably has some secret girlfriend already, Shoyo only thinks about volleyball, and Koutaro’s.. Well, he's.. I dunno. But I don’t trust them with ya!”

You groan and give Osamu a pleading look. “Please?” He gives you a deadpan look.

“It's a hard no. I’d have to kill Rintaro if he even looked at ya wrong.” You groan and throw your hands in the air.

“Gimme a break! I’m a grown woman, I can handle myself.” They both burst into laughter, so you kick Atsumu under the table.

“Owch! Hey!” 

–

You were watching a movie at home by yourself when you heard your phone start to buzz. You glance away from the screen to see ‘Samu’ in bold letters pop up on your phone. You pause the move and check the text he sent you.

Samu: Hey. You still looking for a date?

Your eyes widen and you start to squeal. “Yes! ‘Samu for the win.” You start to celebrate prematurely when your phone buzzes again. 

Samu: I have an idea but Tsumu wouldn’t like it lolol

Your smile drops and you grab the phone to respond.

You: what does that even mean…

Samu: Sooo have you ever met his team before?

You: no, I’ve met Kiyoomi but only briefly. why?? who are you thinking of?? Omg 

Samu: that desperation is exactly what made me think of him LMAO

You gasp in offense and angrily respond, 

You: WTF DOES THAT MEAN 

Samu: anyway! 🙂 I was thinking of inviting some of the team to my place for dinner or something, you wanna come? you can’t tell Tsumu you’re coming though or he'd throw a fit or smth.

You chew on your lip in thought. On one hand, you really want to meet someone. On the other, if it ends up not working out, it could really make things awkward for your brother and his friends. You pause. He’ll be fine.

You: I'll be there :) love you!

Meanwhile, Osamu sighs and leans back against the headboard. “She better not say I never do anything for her. Hmph.”

Samu: love you too 🙄

–

Osamu was drying his hands when he heard the doorbell ring. “Comin’.” He opens the door and there stands Atsumu, Kiyoomi, Shoyo, and Kotaro. Atsmu gives a cheeky grin, holding up a case of beer. “I come bearing gifts.” Koutaro blinks in confusion. “But I bought it-” “Shush.”

Osamu moves aside so they can all come in. “No one else comin’?” Kiyoomi shakes his head. “Shugo was going to but he got caught up with something. The rest all had other arrangements.” Osamu nods in understanding. Shoyo immediately beelines for the kitchen. “What smells so good? I’m starving!” Kiyoomi furrows his brows stating, “You ate the whole way here.”

Just then, the doorbell rings again. This time there is no need to open the door, because you just so happen to have a key. “Hello!” You stroll in like you own the place. Osamu has to fight to hold his laugh in when he sees the look on Atsumu’s face. 

“I didn’t know what to bring so I just brought cookies. I think I burnt them though.” You mumble. Kiyoomi gives you a nod in acknowledgment as you set the platter of charred baked goods on the counter. “Soo… are ya gonna introduce me?”

“Samu. What is she doing here?” Atsumu chokes out. You scoff.

 “I’m literally standing right here.”

“What? I can’t invite our own sister to my apartment?” Osamu gives an innocent shrug. 

“This was supposed to be a guys night!” Atsumu complains childishly. 

Shoyo pipes in, “I don’t mind! The more people the better. Right, Bokuto? ….Bokuto?”

–

If you had asked Koutaro then, he would have sworn he had never seen a more beautiful girl. The moment you walked in the door it was like he lost all of the air in his chest. He almost texted Keiji to ask what a heart attack felt like. His heart thumped in his chest and he could feel his hands start to get sweaty. Pretty girl. I’m not good around pretty girls. 

He didn’t even realize that he was being spoken to until Shoyo poked his arm. “Huh? Wha? Oh- Yes. Stay. Please.” Everyone just kind of stares at him for a moment before moving on. He accidentally stares at you while you get introduced to Shoyo, yet you don’t notice till Atsumu tries introducing him. You give a shy smile and a wave, and that's all he needs to see to know that he's a goner. 

–

You had never taken a good look at Koutaro Bokuto before this, and boy do you wish you had. Everything about him had you feeling weak in the knees. He was very built, taking up a large portion of the sofa that he was sitting on. You had snuck a glance at his back while walking in and Jesus. That man was built like a Greek god. His golden eyes seemed to never leave your figure, and he kept giving you a dopey smile. You give a small smile back and wave, hoping you don’t make a fool of yourself. Later, you swore you saw Osamu give you a thumbs up, but he denies it.

Everyone else flocks to the kitchen to start getting something to eat, yet you and Koutaro stay behind. You hesitantly sit down beside him, a few feet away. You both give sheepish smiles directed at the other, not sure what to say. Just then, Osamu comes back. “Darn. We’re out of soy sauce. Koutaro, (Name), do ya guys mind going to the market and grabbing some?” He says, not very convincingly. 

Shoyo gives him a confused look and starts, “But there was some-” 

“Shush.”

Koutaro immediately shoots up from his seat. “Yeah, we can get it!” He gives you a beaming smile and you can’t help but return in. He lends you a hand up from the sofa, practically bouncing with excitement. “We’ll be back soon.” Osamu gives you a wink and pats your back. 

“Take your time.”

You and Koutaro are silent for a while as you walk to the nearest market. You notice that while his strides are larger than yours, he slows his pace to match yours. He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a glance around

“So, what do you do for fun?” He turns and asks suddenly. You hum in thought.

 “I guess I hang out with my brothers a lot. I watch movies alone sometimes. Work has kept me busy recently, so I haven’t been doing much recently.” He nods in understanding.

He clears his throat before inquiring, “You don’t watch movies with your boyfriend?” 

You smile and shake your head, laughing. “No, I don’t have one.” He stops walking and gawks at you.

 “Seriously?! You're single?!” You raise your eyebrows in surprise and nod slowly. 

“Yeah.. why? Is it that surprising?” He shakes his head yes enthusiastically. 

“I totally thought you’d be married or something, you're so pretty.”

You go quiet. “Really?”

“Yes! Really! Man, I thought I had like no shot.” He adds. You both freeze and look at each other wide eyed.

 “Huh?”

 “What?”

You sputter and point at him. “Ya just- ya said ya thought-” 

“I- well-!” You both stand on the sidewalk, fidgeting with your hands. He scratches his head and blushes. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

You had never said yes faster in your life.

– 

You two were dying of laughter, wiping your eyes from tears. “Man, I wish I had sisters.” You say. 

“Yeah, they're pretty cool.” He says matter of factly. You both had gotten sidetracked and never ended up going to the market. Currently, he and you were sitting on a pair of swings at a local park. Your phone buzzes softly and you apologize to him before checking it. 

Tsumu: where tf did you go 

You: don’t cockblock me <3

Tsumu: PARDON?

You click your phone to silent before turning back to Koutaro. “Now, where were we?”

–

It only took a few dates before he asked you to be his girlfriend. You agreed, of course. You would've said yes if he had asked the night you met, if you were honest. Atsumu begrudgingly gave Koutaro his blessing to propose a couple years into dating. Osamu was a bit offended that he didn't ask him, considering he was responsible for you two meeting.

Koutaro was terrible at keeping secrets, so he ended up proposing the second he got home after ring shopping. You felt a bit ambushed, having been washing dishes in unwashed pajamas, but it was still a definite yes.

Currently, Atsumu was walking up to the mic to give a speech during your wedding. You rest your head on Koutaro’s shoulder, and he intertwines your fingers. Atsumu pokes the microphone and the feedback screeches, bothering everyone.

“Ahem. Now, if anyone knows me, they know I love my sister. That, and I only want what's best for her. That having been said, I would like a ‘thank you’ for this marriage, considering it was my idea to get ya together.”

“Liar!”

note: i just realized i keep writing the twins shushing people lol. Bokuto is so fun to write for 😭 he’s so silly

[fleshwerks]

Thank you for your rant posts on DAV. They’ve been cathartic to read as they echo so many of my own issues with the game and how it treats its own lore and insults its fanbase. I feel stupid for caring about the oppression of mages and elves given how they sanitized and wrote out these cornerstones of the Thedas setting and it sucks! Im glad I’m not alone.

I had very little hope for this game given its mess of a dev cycle and how the company has bled talent, I thought it would be a very messy narrative as a result. And it is! But it’s worse, because it’s not just messy, it commits the greatest cardinal sin of writing: it’s boring.

I think you nailed it. I'm at the same point as you, especially as someone who's huge into DA lore and the intrauniverse sociopolitics, as well as the expected (foolishly) aspect of your deeds mattering, either positively or negatively.

I have a whole ass Inquisitor who can now stop feeling bad in his steppe-sky burial about his indecisiveness during his tenure as an Inquisitor: BECAUSE NONE OF IT MATTERED ANYWAY. 'Oh, you delayed some suffering for like, what, 7 years? 7 years is nothing when you're doomed anyway. I can already hear the argument "but what you do even in short term matters, too."

Yes, in real life. But I don't do RPGs for real life. I play RPGs to be able to fantasise about doing a bit more than I can do in real life.

On top of it just about everybody being so blasé about what's going on. This is the worst blight ever, two actual gods are loose, but here we are at the dinner table, arguing about Taash' mom being a strict, traditional jerkass and Bellara joining the list of people who hate themselves for having ADHD, and holding her hand through it. Boring.

Veilguard commits another sin: everybody blames themselves for everything, but it either gets fixed for them, or they're feeling sorry and do the thing they feel so sorry about anyway.

My kingdom for a character who can go 'it is what it is, I'm not perfect, but I'm not sorry for existing and having an impact on this world, especially if the impact is caused by something I couldn't really control; all that matters is what we do next.' Which would open up the world at wide: tackling things that make your personal issues microbial in comparison. These people don't have the luxury of crying into their chicken soup. Not to say these things can't be addressed, but in Dragon Age, characters are supposed to support the overarching plot and the worldbuilding. Instead, the world puts itself on hold until you've solved Lucanis' granny issues or whatever.

If you've ever watched campaign 3 of Critical Role, that series has the same issue. The cast is made up of people who by and large have no real connection to the world or the overarching plot, and a large part of the viewerbase has come down onto the same idea: if the characters don't really care and only keep reacting, and reacting with quippiness and laughs and occasional 'oh no, that's bad, right? Anyway,'... why should we care?

Why should I care? Because everything I cared about as a player has been deleted, and the cast of Veilguard is mostly just dicking around until the plot reminds them that hey: we have the worst apocalypse going on since Solas deleted Elvhenan. Can we like... react more to it? We can do the therapy sessions later when people have stopped dying.

Disclaimer: I fully acknowledge that I'm going off on a tangent and I'm most likely projecting and reading into it too much/not reading into it enough. But that's the problem. Most players will play it once. You can't rely on subsequent playthroughs to make someone care.

Worst part is, companions aren't even boring. They're just miscast for this particular plot, exacerbated by what BW did to all the established lore. The tonality of the game itself and its place in DA canon is just wack.

I'm likely being incredibly unfair, but there's something to investigate here, because if you've failed to bring players into the lore and invest themselves in such numbers, it isn't just Mari here talking shit, it's a wider problem. Lest we forget, your fiction, your work stops being 'only yours' the moment you publish it and allow people play with your toys. The author is king, but the author is only the king of their own version of their story. The moment it's read and played by many, it's not just your story anymore, it's everybody's, who's engaging with it.

God dammit my English literature and language degree is catching up with me, I've turned into That Guy. Uck.

[drarry-reccage]

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre

Tags: slow burn, pining, jealousy, egypt, lemons

He looked like he’d flipped his long hair over to one side and messily tucked it behind his ear. There was a pot on the stove. He was cutting something very finely. The table was already set. A stumpy old candle, fished out of God knew where, stuck out from the neck of an old bottle that stood in the middle of the table. The wireless was on, softly playing scratchy old tunes. “Oh,” Malfoy said, noticing Harry. He halted a little, seemingly unsettled. “Hello. How did your exams go?” Harry frowned at him. At the kitchen, the candle. “Fine,” he said. “Good, maybe. I don’t know. What’s this?” Malfoy put down the knife, wiping his hands on the towel. “What’s what?” “This,” Harry said, gesturing around him. “Well. Dinner.” Malfoy turned to stir at the pot as he added, talking fast, “I thought you’d want to celebrate, you see. And I was bored, and I’d gotten these lovely mushrooms and it was a good excuse to clear out the kitchen for once, and for. . .” “I’m—” Harry frowned, blinking quickly. “I’m having drinks with the others. At a pub.” He licked his lips. “I can’t have dinner.” “Oh, well, then,” Malfoy peered into the pot. He gave Harry a short wave of a gesture, as though dismissing the topic altogether.

Okay, look. Look. I know, this is not some obscure fic that no one's ever heard of. But I would never feel complete if I didn't post it in my recs here. And there are people who haven't read it! This situation must be rectified.

I also know that not everyone is as feral about this fic as I am. If you can't stand Harry being a jerk to Draco, well, then you aren't going to enjoy a good portion of this book. (For whatever reason, this doesn't bother me. See also I do not love you, The Man Who Forgot, Ship of Theseus, among others)

But if that's not a deal breaker for you, I beg you to read this. The writing is exquisite. The pining is painful. The angst is angsty. But the happy ending makes it all worth it.

There is not a podfic of this fic, but when I say I'd give my left arm to have the permission to make on, I mean it. (Not my right arm, because that's where my GfD tattoo is.)

rec by @sweatersinthesummer

[nethhiri]

Part 6

Warnings: Sex

Kamazo spoke more often to you over the course of the next few weeks. It wasn't much more often, but it was something, mostly small courtesies like "hello", "goodbye", and "thanks". He never answered your questions, never explained himself. It was more like he didn't know the answers rather than purposefully avoiding the questions, although some of it was definitely avoidance. When he was feeling particularly chatty, he would ask what you would like to eat. You were still confused on your role with him and what you were to him, but you learned not to dwell on it. You were feeling better than you had ever felt. You were never hungry. You had never had any fat on your body and this was the most filled out you had ever been. You actually had energy for once in your life and had enough meat on your bones to keep you warm at night. It was wonderful. 

Whenever Kamazo came back from his excursions, you were waiting for him patiently. You took his scythes from him and cleaned them. You helped him take his hair down and brush it out. You helped him disrobe and clean the blood spots from his tanned skin. If you had gone with him, you would do the same thing when you both returned to wherever you were staying at the time. The only difference between whether you went with him or not was where he fucked you. If you went with him, he didn't wait until you were back. He took you in any semi-secluded spot he could find. He always had this wild look in his eyes whenever he killed and it only dissipated after he manhandled you. And even though he was rough with you then, afterwards he was gentle, apologetic you might think. 

Kamazo started bringing you more than just clothes and small trinkets. He caught you drawing your little mouse sculpture in the dirt while you were waiting for him once, so he brought you back a small bundle of papers and some charcoal. When you ran out of those, he brought you a few paints and some more paper. Sometimes he sat beside you and watched. To show your gratitude, you made a small picture of him. That was the first time he truly got angry with you, and the first time he spoke more than a few words at a time. Kamazo made it clear that you were never to depict his face or anything about him ever again. It scared you. He scared you.

You didn't get gifts for some time after that, but when you did, they were even nicer. Kamazo had even drawn a little mouse on the top of the next bundle of papers gave to you as a semi-apology, or that's how you interpreted it anyway. He knew how much you treasured the little mouse he had given you. He seemed to especially like when you sat at the table and drew as he prepared dinner or when he pulled you into his lap and watched over your shoulder as you drew. This was one of those nights. You were comfortably in his lap with a full stomach, balancing your precious few papers on your knee while you sketched. The small square canvas filled up with little doodles of mice. You bounced slightly as Kamazo let out an amused sigh, almost a chuckle.

"Mice?"

"I like them." You said your thoughts aloud. "Quiet. Small. Unassuming. Like me."

"Hm."

"Yes?" 

You were surprised he said anything at all. 

"You're not a mouse."

"No?"

"You're a sparrow: resilient, adaptable, loyal."

You had nothing to say. He really thought that of you? You leaned back and rested your head on his shoulder to look at him. You liked when he was like this. His blue eyes were calm and held some unexplainable melancholy. The darkness wasn't in him then. Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him. Maybe it was the blue of his eyes that had grown to be familiar or maybe it was the words you took to be kindness. 

"I- I don't know why- sorry."

He looked just about as shocked as you did. You hastily put your papers together and grabbed your drawing tools before getting out of his lap. It was time for bed anyway. Neither of you spoke another word about it, not then and not for the next fews days either. You continued to be his shadow, hiding while he went off to do his work. Sometimes it wasn't so much hiding as it was just sitting somewhere quiet and waiting for him to return. In the meantime you would keep yourself occupied with your art. He even let you have the small blade on occasion, just in case you needed to defend yourself. Then, when he returned, you would show him what you made. That usually happened after he had taken you, when the darkness subsided. You hadn't always shown him. One day he wanted to see, so you kept showing him from then on, excited that he wanted to see your art. 

When he returned, it was still dark, but you could tell, even in the low light, that he was covered in blood, more blood than a simple wash basin could handle. He had left you to sit under a tree. You were outside the town again, heading north. You got up from your huddled position. It was beginning to get cold, especially frigid at night. Kamazo led you back to your current camp to pack it up, then brought you further into the forest. Shortly after, you came upon a natural hot spring.

Without a word, Kamazo stripped down and got into the water. As you were accustomed to, you started cleaning his blades, painfully aware of how many times your eyes clung to his muscular back. After the first time he fucked you, the first few times really, you were somewhat reassured that he wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't kill you. He got fairly rough with you, made you black out a few times, but he didn't permanently harm you. Although it wasn't your choice, especially not the first time, you began to enjoy it, or you convinced yourself that you enjoyed it, wanted it, to make it easier. You wondered what it would be like to be his lover. Would it be different? Would he be softer? You could tell there was a different side to him that you didn't get to see. You knew nothing about him. He might have a real partner somewhere in the world. You were only a concubine while he was away from this person. You wouldn't allow yourself to desire anything more than that. You could never be good enough to be someone's wife, lowborn and destitute.

You watched him rub the dried blood from his skin, tinting the water pink, though you couldn't see it in the dark. He was so muscular that he had a difficult time reaching his back. You finished with his scythes and sat behind him, pulling your clothes up past your knees so they wouldn't become wet. Your legs were on either side of him in the water. You moved his hair over his shoulder so you could see what places still needed to be washed. 

"Let me help." You added, "Just don't lick my feet again."

Kamazo laughed. Whether it was true or forced by the fruit, you didn't know. The sound that used to unnerve you had started to bring some consolation instead. When you had gotten all the blood cleaned from him, your hands traveled over his tanned skin. There were a few tight areas that you focused on massaging away. He didn't protest. You even earned a few relaxed sighs as you worked the knots out. Kamazo had gotten most of the blood out of his hair by himself so you didn't worry about that. 

The water looked warm the way steam floated off the surface. The parts of you that weren't in the water were getting cold. Stripping quickly, you made the decision to get in also. You got into the water as fast as you could, both because it was freezing to be nude and because you could feel Kamazo's eyes on you. It didn't matter how many times you were bare in front of him. It still embarrassed you. He always looked too hard, too closely at you. It was obvious what was so captivating to him. Ever since you put on weight, he loved to bury his face in your stomach, or squeeze your thighs, or suck on your tits. 

You settled into the water's warm embrace. It felt so good on your aching body. Keeping up with Kamazo was hard work. Your back hurt and your chest was sore, which you attributed to Kamazo's unrelenting attention. You sat slightly away from him, not wanting to impede on his space. He had missed a few spots in the front of his hair, you noticed. Kamazo was intently watching you stare. 

"Sorry... You have blood in your hair." 

He wiped at a few places. 

"No. You missed." 

After another try, you moved in front of him. 

"I'll get it." 

You pinched some strands between your fingers and slid down the hair, removing the remaining gore from his golden locks. You made the mistake of locking eyes with him this closely. They were their normal beautiful blue selves, but the light of the moon made them so clear. The darkness that clouded them so often was absent. There was a softness in them that made your heart beat faster. That urge overcame you again, and you closed the distance between you both. This time you didn't apologize after you kissed him. 

Kamazo didn't flinch. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for you to decide what you were going to do now. What were you going to do now? What were you doing? This was the man you wanted to be with, not the man with darkness. This one made you feel safe and special and cared for: loved. You leaned in again, kissing him. He kissed you back, pulling you into his lap to straddle him. Your hands went into his hair, wandered over his neck and his chest with this new permission to touch. Similarly, his own hands groped you, but in a much gentler way than he normally did, actually taking the time to appreciate every fold and curve. He had you stand up on your knees so he could reach your tits with his mouth. He didn't bite this time, only kissing and sucking the soft skin, gently playing with your nipples with his hand or his tongue. You gazed at him with lust-filled eyes and pink-dusted cheeks. 

"Please," you breathed. 

He freed you from his grip, surprising you. You thought he would lead, but he seemed to be giving you the chance to do what you wanted. You sat back in his lap and stroked him from root to tip, watching his expression turn into one of pleasure. You could feel how slick you were getting, and knew you didn't;t need much in the way of prep. You lined him up with yourself and gradually lowered yourself onto him, letting the head push between your folds. Bouncing slightly, you worked your way down, until he was completely inside you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and began to move your hips. Slowly at first, savoring the fullness you felt, you rode him. Then the pure pleasure took grip of you and you sped up, already feeling the heat pool in your stomach. He groaned in response feeling your walls twitch around him. It felt too good for him not to grab your hips and help you with the pace. Soon, he was slamming your hips down on his own, essentially using your body to jerk himself off. The water around you was choppy from all the movement. Between each other's moans, you were fervently kissing, tangling tongues and sucking on each other's lips. Your moans grew more high pitched and your breathing turned into pants. Your legs were jelly from bouncing yourself in his lap and he was doing much of the work now, helping you bounce. The pressure in your lower abdomen was building. 

"Kam-azo," you groaned. "I'm so close." You threw your head back as the orgasm grew closer. "Kam- Kam! Oh fuck, Kam!" You couldn't even get his full name out as your pleasure crashed over you.

Kamazo leaned you back slightly and buried his face in your chest. You could feel the vibrations of his moans as your own throes of passion drove him to climax as well. He might have said your name, though it was muffled. You'd like to imagine he said it. 

Neither of you moved. You thought he would shove you off, instead he let you lay against his chest. There was something about having him still inside you that made you feel complete. Rays of sunshine poked out from the horizon and the sky turned pink with dawn. The sunlight bouncing off the steam looked like fire. He stroked your hair and trailed his fingers down your back. You were turned slightly in his lap and his other hand rested on your stomach, his thumb moving idly against your skin. You stayed wrapped in his strong arms until the sun was fully above the horizon. 

Tag list: Tag List: @nocturnalrorobin @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @fendifendi @eustasscapitankid @iggy5055 @hannahbarberra162 @mapachito

[gxr25256]

Strange Disappearances - Miniformers

🌵 I think it would be funny to shrink the building-sized robots down to tiny 🤏.

------------------------------

The day started like any other. You had woken up to the sound of your alarm ringing, groggily dragging yourself out of bed, and beginning your usual routine. Coffee, breakfast, checking your phone for messages, and then heading out to work. But as the day wore on, you started noticing something strange.

It started as an oddity. Little things slipping out of sight, then returning in strange places. A misplaced book, a set of keys, a coffee mug—each one simply vanishing and then showing up somewhere else, seemingly of its own accord. At first, you brushed it off. After all, with so much going on in your life, who wouldn’t forget where they left something every now and then?

The first incident was so minor you hadn’t thought twice. You’d placed your favorite mug, a cracked and chipped relic from an old trip to the beach, on the kitchen counter while you prepared breakfast. When you turned back to grab it, it was gone. You had left it there, hadn't you? The last sip of coffee still lingered on your mind as you recalled its familiar weight in your hand just hours ago.

You retraced your steps. The kitchen was spotless, the table cleared of any debris, and the dishes put away. Your mug was nowhere to be found. You checked the dishwasher, just in case you'd put it there absentmindedly. Empty. The cabinets? Just the usual clutter, nothing unusual. You thought about the last time you'd seen it. Maybe it had fallen behind the counter? Thinking nothing of it, you figured maybe you’d knocked it off the counter and hadn’t noticed. But when you checked the floor and couldn’t find it, you assumed you were just being scatterbrained. You grabbed a different mug and carried on.

That was until you found it again.

You’d been in the living room, idly flipping through a book, when you spotted your mug sitting on the armrest of your couch. Your heart skipped a beat. How on Earth had it gotten there? You didn’t remember moving it, and no one else had been home. There was no explanation, yet there it was, almost as if waiting for you.

You paused, examining the mug for a moment, then shook your head. Maybe you were just too tired. The last few days had been hectic, and you had barely managed to keep everything together. You shrugged it off, returning to your book.

Later that evening, you tried to put the mug out of your mind. You cleaned up, finished your dinner, and plopped down on the couch to watch TV. But as you reached for the remote, you stopped short.

Your phone was on the coffee table, but it wasn’t in the spot you had left it. Instead, it was pushed to the edge of the table, almost as if someone—or something—had moved it. You frowned, feeling a prickle of unease. You hadn’t touched your phone since you left it there after dinner.

You reached for it, trying to shake off the odd feeling. Maybe you had bumped it earlier while you were cleaning up. It was certainly possible. But the growing sense that something was...off, wouldn't leave you.

The strange occurrences didn’t stop there. The following morning, you noticed the remote had disappeared. You checked under the couch cushions, behind the coffee table, and even in the kitchen, convinced that maybe, just maybe, you had left it somewhere else. But no—nothing.

The house was still quiet, yet you couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that you weren’t truly alone. It was like there was something lurking just out of sight.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you muttered to yourself.

You'd never been one to believe in supernatural explanations, but this felt different. It was like someone—or something—was hiding in plain sight, playing tricks on you.

Over the next few days, the pattern continued. Your missing mug reappeared on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, placed in a spot that was just out of reach for you. The remote had found its way under the couch, nestled between the cushions as if it had been carefully tucked away. But the weirdest part? There was no explanation for any of it. No sign of a break-in, no intruder. Everything seemed perfectly normal, yet the things that were disappearing were growing more difficult to ignore.

But even then, you didn’t fully grasp the implications. It seemed odd, yes, but it didn’t feel dangerous. More like an eccentric quirk of the universe.

That night, as you lay in bed, the confusion lingered, swirling in your thoughts like an unanswered question. Your mind replayed the strange occurrences—the missing items, the odd placement of things, the faint sounds you couldn’t quite explain. Despite the unease prickling your skin, you didn’t feel outright fear. Instead, there was a growing curiosity, an inexplicable sense that something—or someone—was in the house with you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, but a presence seemed to linger, just out of sight, watching, waiting.

--------------------------------

[hayw1res]

stubborn princess and the silent knight.. !

a/n: ive been writing this for a month like guys life has been… life okay. ill do the kinktober list….. maybe soon . this isnt proofread and its kinda fast paced? idk guyys

warnings: drinking , kissing , “secret identity” , nothing 18+ yet folks

pairing: knight! megumi x princess! reader

you hated it, oh how you hated your father - the king, your mother - the queen, you even hated the maids and various servants who called upon you to serve your every beck and call. you hated it all, but you loved looking from your terrance down to the knights in training, the boy with jet black hair and a scowl on his perfect face.. oh how you loved to think of him while you swooned over the side of the balcony, clutching your chest in hopes he didnt see you staring so intently. the way he sparred with almost little effort put into the fight, the way his sword always glistened from his upkeep, the way hed wipe the sweat from his brow, but constantly ask to continue fighting.

oh everything about him was just so dreamy.. you'd write in your diary about him. about your fantasies.. about how you wished to be together one day - for him to teach you the way of the sword and for you to tend to his wounds when he ever gotten hurt.. you ached for just a sentence to fall from his pretty lips, just for one day call you his own.. to call you his princess.

your fantasy cut short when your father called you down for supper, he wasn't a bad man, he was no tyrant.. but you fell victim to his expectations. you were nearing 20 , unmarried and still unwilling to court- your parents started to grow impatient..almost everyday a new prince from a "far away kingdom" would trot his was to your throne to ask your hand in marriage, each answer stayed the same... a big fat no.

"my dear.. the prince of homsworth would make a fine husband would he not?

your father spoke, it broke you from your daydream.

"father, i dont need to wed yet.. besides wouldn't you rather i fall in love? have a man swoop me off my feet rather than settle for the next prince up.." you muttered the last part to yourself, your mother clearing her throat after you

"me and your father courted young- we didnt know it then but we were in love.. how shall you know love if you never experience it-" she went on and on, during about responsibility and what a good princess should act like... this talk again, always on and on about how a princess shall act - how a princess shall talk - how she shall dress.. all of it went through one ear and out the other.

supper always went this way, they argue and dispute about your unwillingness to marry, you tell them no and finish dinner, then you run away to your room and rest the night away.. you were used to this song and dance already- you lived the same day over and over again without fail.. it was tiresome. just as you were about to place your napkin on the table and push your chair away to excuse yourself, your father stopped you.

"ive arranged something, darling.. an escort. we are worried about you" he says kindly as he motions for one if the knights to step forward, dawned in nothing but chainmail and metallic clothing, the knight bows to you.

"he. is your personal knight. for your safety and for my own concern of you... sneaking out at night." the king adds on, your mother nodding in agreement. sneaking out? how dare they assume you of such low standard.. you may hate the constant reminder but - you still were a princess.. the future ruler of this kingdom.

"id never. you say with a scoff, standing up to excuse yourself, forgetting you now be followed by silent footsteps. they followed you from the grand hall, to the corridor, to the entrance of your bedroom. you huff and turn around, the idea of the knight following you everywhere both annoyed and excited you.. yes you hated the idea of not being able to sneak out anymore— but a knight? Your knight, that did anything you’d ask him to..

You sat and pondered at the door, awkwardly asking him if he were to follow you to your bedroom or stay out here- and much to your surprise the silent man turned to stand guard at your large double doors. You couldn’t help but think..when did he rest? when did he eat? when did he have time to do.. anything? so many questions remained unanswered as your infatuation grew- mixed with the curiosity of who was under that mask.. you hoped it was the boy with the jet black hair.

“well.. goodnight” you spoke quietly , receiving only a nod in return.

that started you nightly routine for months.

each and everyday he would follow you around, do small tasks you asked of him, and everynight he would stand guard outside your doors. you wondered if he enjoyed this or secretly hated you.. you wondered if you were even kind enough to him for him to enjoy his job.

“oh well..” you whisper to yourself at night as you covered your body with the thick blankets given to you from the maidens.. winter was coming fast.

the next morning you received notice that your knight would be gone for the day, apparently he was leading some other younger recruits in training, so you had a replacement ! he was much more.. talkative than what youre used to. you thought it was fun, speaking to him almost all day.

his name was yuji , he apparently been training here for years and is on the same rank as your knight which you learn is named megumi.

“megumi has always been like that, quiet i mean.. its not because he hates you he just takes a while opening up!” yuji heard all about it, he wanted you guys to be buddies. especially because he wanted to secretly also be buddies with the princess, but that was besides the point.

“im sure if you keep being kind to him, eventually he will start talking —maybe talk about his interests ! i think its just fighting though.. occasionally ill see him writing in a little journal too!” yuji exclaimed excitedly , you nod.. maybe that’s exactly what you’ll do.

the next few days went by quickly, you and yuji became a bit closer and your father started to slowly stop asking you about marriage since every single time you just ignore him or say “no” . today was the day megumi came back from training , unfortunately that meant yuji went back to his usual schedule but that didnt mean you couldn’t visit him!

megumi was stoic as always, standing beside you as you walked down the halls of your castle.. you sigh as you turn to look at him.. he still had that damn helmet on.

“I heard from Yuji that your name is Megumi.. is that true?” You ask , a basket in your arm as you prepared to go to the garden

megumi could only hum, at least you got that out of him..

“right.. you know my name of course. i didnt take yuji to be such a talker, i thought all you knights were strong silent types”

before you could reach for the door he already opened it for you, leading out to the large greenhouse you kept.. you smile and walk ahead of him.

the sun was bright today, though it was approaching winter it seemed the winds were lower .. a moderate temperature. you walked into the greenhouse and started to tend to your plants, picking off a few you wanted to add to the pots around the castle

“so.. do you do anything other than this?” you ask, trying to get the silent man to open up. he stays silent for a while.

“.. i enjoy sparring” he says finally, the deep rumble in his voice almost makes you crumble. you giggle at the answer.. of course he would enjoy something like that.

“right.. i see you guys usually from my balcony. it seems a bit harsh.. but i get it for practice” you continue picking flowers until the basket is full, turning back to the knight

“its a wonderful day outside.. shame we have to stay indoors and miss the festival.” you catch him off guard, a princess such as yourself being interested in the commoners dance? he and yuji participated often, mainly because yuji enjoyed them most of all.. megumi only went to make sure yuji didnt do anything stupid. the knight let out a hum, a noise that almost startled you.

“sounds like you don’t believe me.. didnt father tell you why you are hired in the first place..?” You chuckle, picking up the basket of flowers .. he knew of the mischief you got up to at night.. he knew you would sneak out your bedroom window in a gown to fit in while you danced and drank with the common folk. he knew this all because you intrigued him.. from the moment he seen you watching his training on the balcony.

“.. yes” he said simply, following behind you back to your room as the sun began to set. you were surprised he said anything.. his deep but smooth voice almost made you melt

“i know you leave the castle often.. you come back smelling of booze but you look- happy almost..” he continued until you both reached the doors to your room.

“then..?” you turn to him, expecting him to just shut you down and make you go to bed.. but something about his demeanor today.

“then.. i hope you dont get hurt” he says under his breath, almost a silent way of telling you to enjoy yourself, of course he would be watching you all night anyways. he always did when you went out.. always.

the night progressed as usual, you went to your room and he guarded your door..except tonight was the night of the festival. at a shivering 2 am you dressed in a black gown and climbed out your bedroom window to join in on the festival! there was dancing and singing, chanting of prayers, drinks being passed about every which way, this is what you were missing being stuck in that godawful castle all your life, and now that you were older you were able to enjoy them to the fullest in secret.

you danced, you sang and you drank until you felt your body lighten and you never felt better. you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes lingering on you that night.. more than usual at least. you stumble and make your way to the path that lead to a hidden entrance to the castle, one close to your room. you heave as small breaths leave your body.

footsteps trail behind you and you freeze, usually you never had an issue with people following you home or drunkards stumbling on the path, almost always finding a way to slip away undetected. you start to speed up as much as your heels would allow on the rough terrain. you almost fall until a pair of arms catch you, fear washes over you for a second before you hear him.

“Are you alright..” His soft voice hit your ears and you sigh .. that voice again

“Fine…Fine now.” The adrenaline washed over you knowing it was just megumi, his hands felt soft.. you turned to look at him finally, but he wore a mask. go figure i guess.

“I guess.. we go home now?” You say , almost as if you were inviting him- like you don’t live together practically. You begin your walk he was silent for a while, just following you while you make your way to the castle.. going on and on about the festival as if you hadn’t experienced the same things. He didnt care though, he didnt care that you talked so much about your day because he wanted to hear it from your perspective.

The night was young , once you two made it back to the castle and your room..it was like your conversation made time go by faster.. talking to- or rather at him was refreshing. Even if he was just behind a mask.

“Want to just.. come sit inside?”

“..Okay..”

How did those few words end up with the two of you in a dark room, making out like a couple of teenagers? You couldnt tell.. you complimented his mask, almost got him to take it off.. he convinced you maybe its better to turn the lights off and you.. believed him.

Now the two of you sit on your bed, hands roaming eachothers bodies in a hot , steamy , messy makeout session.. tongues clashing in a battle for dominance you were slowly losing. You didnt even care that he were your knight.. you didnt care about anything other than how he felt right about now.

that feeling didnt last forever.. soon the gasping of air filled the area , you wanted more, needed it..

but your eyes shut gently .. you feel sleep taking you away and by the time you wake hes gone..

“ugh.. my head hurts..”

[izvmimi]

“Thank you for always being so understanding about all of this,” Izuku says between spoonfuls of soup. You look up from your own bowl, then around; Inko has stepped out of the room to use the restroom, and the two of you remain facing each other at dinner.

Tenko hasn’t joined the three of you tonight, citing “other plans”, but you have the impression that nerves have gotten to him finally and Izuku agrees with your assessment. The thought of Tenko, once Shigaraki, being nervous about how the general public will receive him feels somewhat ridiculous, but it is a very fair thing to be worried about given the circumstances.

After all, it’s only been 5 years since the meta war, and even if he’s proven himself to Midoriya and the Hero Commission, he has no guarantee going public in this matter will be well received, even if Deku will be by his side, promising emphatically and empathetically in his own very Deku way to stop him again if things get awry, and the people believe in their Symbol of Hope.

Yet, what Izuku is referencing is something unrelated completely. His hand reaches over the table to cover yours gently, and he smiles warmly at you, and in that look, you remember how happy he was to see you from his hospital bed, adjusting a few flowers and cards on the counters before being startled by the sound of his voice. He was happy to see you intact, safe, despite having gotten precariously close to the main fight. 

Izuku remembers your body moments away from disintegration every so often, the expected turn in his stomach not lessening over the years, and often wonders why you’ve managed to forgive Tenko the way you have, allowing him to crash on your apartment sofa and eat up all your snacks, and to permeate daily conversations between the two of you.

But you, like the people will during the press conference tomorrow, believe in his ability to be good.

Your lips part slightly with the touch as though you were to say something in surprise, but you choose not to, smiling instead, using your other hand to finish your soup. 

The words I trust you and I have hope, are left unsaid.

—

The cameras don’t stop flashing but Deku and Entropy continue to face the cameras politely, smiles matching, Entropy’s not as wide but still warm. The dreaded tomato isn’t tossed at his face and while there are a few insults hurled from the back of the crowd, understandably, they’re easily drowned out by the cheers of support.

The two young men both pledge to keep the city safe.

The trial period of their partnership will be for about a year before they’ll eventually act independently, and while it seems like a sensible idea upfront, you and Izuku find out that the netizens have quite a lot to say about it.

Parole officer Deku…

They’re really running out of new concepts, aren’t they?

Do you think I could turn him back? He might have been sexier before…

That last comment has 200+ replies and you pore through them on your phone while Tenko returns with four iced beverages, three of them coffee and the fourth a lemonade with an alarming amount of caffeine in them. Sparkles eyes his drink, while accepting her latte from him, then shakes her head.

“You know those kill people, right?”

Tenko blinks for a moment, then shrugs before putting the straw in his mouth. 

“I mean…” you pipe up and Izuku gives you a look to warn you not to make the joke you want so desperately to make, and you press a finger to your own mouth coyly.

Sparkles figures out where you were about to go in that sentence and kicks your leg under the table. Tenko sips on his drink and says nothing.

“You guys looked great out there,” you say, instead. “I would definitely trust my life to you both,” you add and Sparkles nods enthusiastically. You watch her pat his shoulder gently, then catch herself, pretending she was wiping off a bit of lint.

You’ll send her a text reminding her she doesn’t need to pretend that he wasn’t with her last night in a couple minutes, but for now you let the two newly partnered pros give their own press conference perspective.

There are many new books to be written and you wonder which page you’ll turn first.

[jackmanwife]

You picked at the food on your plate with your fork, something your father cooked up a couple times a week—a pile of mashed potatoes that had long since gone cold, some roasted asparagus you hardly touched, and a piece of chicken that tasted bland after the first few bites. You weren’t even hungry, really—just wanted to get dinner over with.

Your father was going on about one of his favorite old stories—something about a fishing trip he’d taken a few summers ago, the same trip he brought up every chance he got. He told it the exact same way, too: the “massive fish” that got away to the epic battle with his fishing line. You nodded along and gave him the occasional “oh, really?” like the good daughter you were. Your mind, however, wasn’t on fishing—or the food.

You took a sip of water, looked down at your plate, then glanced up at the man sitting in front of you. There he was, Logan—and fuck, did he look good. He was patiently listening to your father, sometimes letting out a chuckle, drinking a little bit of beer from the bottle next to his plate—barely touched, too. You can tell he was just as bored as you were. Only difference was, he wore it better.

Then it came to you. You didn’t have to sit here quietly, bored out of your mind. Not when he was right there, so close, looking so put-together. No, you wanted to fuck with him a little, have some fun.

You took a quick look at your father, making sure he was still caught up in his stupid story, and after what felt like hours, he was. Good. You slipped off one shoe under the table, feeling the cool floor against your bare foot before reaching out, letting your toes brush Logan’s jeans—feather-light. Just a little something to get his attention without making it too obvious.

You stared at your plate, even though a smile tried to pull at the corner of your mouth. After a few seconds, you looked up at Logan, expecting him to be looking at you, too, but he wasn’t. He just continued to drink his beer, talk to your father, take a small bite of food from his plate. He wasn’t doing anything. Why wasn’t he doing anything?

Okay, maybe he didn’t really feel it. Beneath the table, you pressed your foot a little higher, up along his calf. Still, nothing. Logan barely blinked, even, he just leaned back with a small smile on his face as he listened to your father, bringing his bottle back to his mouth for another drink. Fine. You slid your foot higher, pressing along his thigh, harder this time. There was no way he wasn’t feeling this. And yet—he just went on, acting like he hadn’t noticed a thing, even though you knew he did.

But then, just when you were about to drop your foot, Logan casually reached under the table, catching your ankle in his hand. The move was so sudden you almost choked on the food you were keeping in your mouth. His fingers tightened around your ankle, holding you in place. Your hand tightened around your fork, trying to pull your foot back, but he wouldn’t let go. He made it clear that he was aware of your little game—and that he was going to win it.

You yanked your foot back hard enough to slip out of Logan’s grip, causing the table to shake. Your father paused mid-sentence, looking over at you.

“Oh, um—I think I’m full,” you forced a small laugh out, pushing your chair out from under the table as you got up.

Logan finally looked over at you, lips curling in the slightest smirk. You knew that look. “Leaving so soon, sweetheart?” He nodded toward your half-full plate, “Barely touched the food on your plate.”

Jesus Christ, was he going to be the death of you.