#obviously this would all be light hearted

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request some platonic batboys comforting their bestie after the bestie has to break up with someone? Going through it rn </3

I got you! Fuck your ex partner if they were a dick to you, fuck them for breaking your heart and you will come out of this with a healed heart and a sense of self because you deserve everything and everything! I also added Bruce as a bonus.

Dick would have you come over to his house, saying that Hayley was ready to also help you heal pass this relationship, all the while putting the dog into your lap and encouraging you to cuddle the blue staffy because Hayley was there to provide extra comfort beside him.

Dick had been through relationships himself and would offer the most advice to you in your time of need the best out of all the boys, he understands how your feeling in the moment, as if your life was coming to an end but he would remind you that’s not the case and that you were just not use to being independent.

‘You might feel like you’re dying right now, but you won’t feel that for long.’ He says as he rests a hand on your shoulder. ‘you’ve just grown a custom to being with someone that being without them feels as though you can’t function but I’m here to tell you that you can. You were independent before and you’ll be independent again. So I wouldn’t fret about things that’ll soon become irrelevant.’ He adds as he presses you against his side, kissing your forehead like he always did when he needed to calm your racing mind.

‘Okay?’ He asks as he looks you in the eye, smiling. ‘We’ll take care of you won’t we Hayley?’ He then looks at his dog who had long fallen asleep on your lap, letting out a little snort as you both laughed at the cuteness of Hayley and the hilarity of the moment. Dick would make sure that you were getting out and would have you come on walks with him and Hayley, or just getting coffee together, anything he can do in order to help you realise that just because your relationship didn’t work out it didn’t mean that you have to give up being happy all tighter.

You can be happy on your own as you can be happy in a relationship, you’ve just gotta find the right people to be happy independent alongside with.

Jason would also solicit similar advice as Dick, seeing as he’s been in a few relationships himself, telling you that you might feel as though you’ve lost apart of yourself but in reality it was you hiding that part of yourself in fear of your true self being rejected.

‘Such isn’t what a relationship should be, you should see each other for your best and worst, not just one or the other and you should feel comfortable being yourself with them too.’ He says to you as he throws his arm over your shoulder as you both overlooked Gotham together becuase you couldn’t enjoy the stars with all the light pollution. ‘You’ll get back up on your feet sooner or later but for now eat your food before it goes cold.’ He then scolds as he gestures to the food he had made for you before dragging you to the rooftops for fresh air.

He wants the bash the idiots head in, but he knew you needed a shoulder to cry on right now and that’s what Jason will do, for you were in a vulnerable headspace and were prone to doing stupid stuff; and Jason felt it was his duty to make sure you took care of yourself properly and would do things that you didn’t or couldn’t do if the breakup hit your mental health hard.

Jason would make sure that you and your ex’s paths never cross as he acts as a blockade between you both, having much against the ex for being a uncaring bastard for hurting you while making sure your day went by undisturbed by anything or anyone. He’s looking out for you and most of your time is spent either in a bookstore or in his apartment, where you two would watch shitty reality television, before making predictions on who’ll get kicked out tomorrow nights episode.

Damian

‘Shall I end them for breaking your heart?’ He says as he puts a hand on your shoulder, obviously not use to being the one to comfort another, but with the help of Dick he hoped he was being at least somewhat comforting for you in your time of need.

You raise a hand to pat his hand on your shoulder, weakly chuckling at the seriousness of his tone, for while he might say it out of a need to bring you some assurance that he will be by your side. Damian wasn’t one to half ass his words and was most likely not joking about taking out your ex boyfriend for breaking your heart. ‘Thanks but no thanks dami.’

‘You’re better off without them. They were weak and couldn’t keep up with you, they were intimidated by your presence and how you easily prove yourself as a powerful individual who can look out for themselves and was scared of your power.’ Damian replies as he sits down next to you, setting aside his sword as he has Titus draped across your lap and Ace lounge next to your side, knowing how much you loved the dogs as much as he did.

And you know he’s not lying becuase Damian saw no point in lying to you, it’s ridiculous and serves no purpose whatsoever other then to guard another persons feelings, nope Damian says it as it is and needles to say he didn’t like your ex and now they’ve proved that feeling he had right by breaking your heart. While you said that he couldn’t kill him, Damian would oh most definitely stand outside their window menacingly without really trying.

However until he gets the opportunity to scare the shit out of your ex, he’s by your side with you throughout your healing journey as you realise that Damian wasn’t joking about you and your power. Your heart might break but it’s still beating and to Damian you alleys proven you were stronger then your ex ten times over. Hell you might even spar if you’ve got some anger to let out…Damian will use this as an excuse just to say;

‘Imagine their face and attack with everything you’ve got until there’s nothing left.’

Damian is an advocate for expressing how you fell in whatever form you can available to you, whether it’s through art, writing, music or otherwise just let it all out because how can you feel better when your repressing your emotions; thus hindering your own healing.

Tim has ice cream, your beloved fluffy blankets, your favourite show and or movie queued up on his computer with take out on the way the moment you had told him the news of your break up.

He doesn’t waste time and tells you to put on your most comfortable clothes because you were staying over the night to recover from a rather lacklustre relationship, away from someone who didn’t deserve you in the slightest, though this is very dependant on what relationship you had with your ex partner but the message remained the same with Tim: movie night with a side of gossip session where you shit talk about your ex partner and their glaring red flags now you were out of that mess.

Seriously by the end of the night you are no longer crying tears of sadness but tears of laughter every time Tim had something to say about your ex partner, easily roasting them into oblivion while your grasping at your stomach as it ached pleasantly, before joining in on the roasting yourself by giving him some insider information that his hacking skills could never give him.

Bruce ‘I’m rich’ Wayne who takes you out on shopping sprees to heal your heart by attempting to make a dent in his wallet.

After all what wouldn’t heal the heart faster than spending ridiculous amounts of money on comfort foods, items and clothing of various kinds.

Seriously this man will tell you to get the biggest, most expensive jellycat plushy the shop had, only to tell you to get like two more of similar sizes before gifting you his card and telling you to go nuts on what you want. That or he’d buy you it himself when he sees how hesitant you are with sending his money, quickly to pick up the things you side eye for too long or wince at the price tag of and buying it in bulk for you without hesitation.

He’s treating you to a expensive dinner afterwards with expensive drinks being brought to your table bottle by bottle along with good food, not that Bruce cared in the slightest as the night was far from over for the both of you, far from it as by the end of the night you would’ve completely forgotten about your ex when your rich friend spoils you rotten.

No friend of Bruce’s will cry over a broke loser, this man will remind you of your worth but in a less threading way like a certain son would, even if the encouragement was there in spirit.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Lover's Contract: Jude Jazza - Premium END

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

The steamboat’s whistle vibrates into the late night air.

Carrying the target couple, the boat leaves the harbor.

Eventually, the outline of the ship, illuminated by the lights, disappears into the foggy darkness.

Kate: The boat’s gone.

Jude: Let’s head back.

As soon as we observed the elopement, Jude flipped his coat and turned his back to the sea.

Kate: …..Was this a punishment?

I muttered as I gazed out at the sea, only for amethyst eyes to look back at me.

Jude: Dunno.

Jude: Kinda people d’ya think they are?

After observing them I noticed —  How they held their glasses with sophistication, and the way they spoke and laughed with elegance.

(Even observing their confident demeanor, poise and mannerisms…..)

Kate: Those two….are likely nobles of very high social standing.

Kate: They didn't seem servile at all, and looked like people who grew up loved by their families.

Kate: I hate to say this, but there was such a sublime air about them that it’s hard to believe that they’d commit infidelity…..

Jude: Seems like yer eyes ain’t so rotten that they’re blind.

Jude: Right then, let’s suppose yer assumption’s spot-on.

Jude: Whatsit mean fer ‘em to abandon their homeland?

(If those two are who I imagine them to be —)

Abandoning their beloved families and hometowns would be an extremely heavy, and painful punishment for the two of them.

(In return for hurting their families and choosing love, they must abandon their hometowns.)

That’s the crime and punishment they committed.

Kate:….Those two only have each other now.

When I think about how they tossed away everything, and boarded the boat with only the clothes on their backs, my heart swells.

Jude: Plus, it’s easier bumpin’ people off from such respectable families abroad.

Jude: Don’t matter how they die, s’gonna be ruled an accident.

Kate: WHAT, isn’t giving up their homes the punishment?! Don’t say something so dreadful….

Jude: Huh? Weren’t ya wonderin’ if it was a punishment?

Jude: So, I just came up with the plausible endin’.

Jude: But even after I toldja, ya still complained. Yer bein’ too selfish, Princess.

Jude grumbles and starts walking.

Kate: Ah, please don’t leave me behind.

He glanced at me as I quickly stand next to him.

Jude: Ya can stay the night ‘n ponder alone.

T/l note at the bottom due to length.

Kate: I’ll go back with you.

Jude: With me, ya wanna be with me that bad?

Kate: Um, well…I like being with you.

I feel flustered hearing something like that out of the blue.

Jude: Speakin’ of, ya said “We’re together because we can’t completely fill the emptiness”.

(That’s what I said when I was consoling the woman target…!)

Kate: H-How do you know that, Jude?!

Jude: Yer so loud. Obviously, I was listenin’.

Kate: You were listening?! S-Since when?

Jude: That guy still had feelin’s fer her, so I went t’go get ‘er, he bawled ‘n begged.

Jude: Then ya were havin’ some drawn out chit chat on the balcony.

Jude: So, whose line’s that? I read all the scripts when I was investigatin’ the theater troupe fer the mission the other day.

Jude: That line, “Love is something you can’t get enough of, it’s also something you can’t give enough of.”

Jude: Don’t remember seein’ it.

(Yeahhh….that look, this means he knows everything.)

Kate: Just like you said Jude, those lines being from a play is a lie.

(If he knows, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.)

Love is something you can’t get enough of, it’s also something you can’t give enough of.

Those words -

Kate: I was just ad-libbing…..or rather, my feelings were spilling out for you, Jude.

Jude and I gaze into each other’s eyes, we touch each other, and repeatedly share our body’s heat.

Each time we do, I feel my heart filling with love.

But at the same time, my feelings for Jude grow more intense with each passing day —

(I could no longer say that loving you or receiving your love was "enough".)

Kate: I became greedy, after experiencing your love.

Kate: I want to love you even more. Jude, I lov—

The unfinished words melted between overlapping lips.

Jude: What’s this switchin’ back to bein’ a girlfriend without permission. Yer my lover ‘til the mission’s done.

Kate: But the targets are sailing on the ship, so the mission’s basically over…..

Jude: Ya don’t get it.

Jude’s eyes flicker alluringly as he gets closer.

Jude: Ain’t no way I can letcha go back lookin’ like that.

Kate: Looking like what….?

Jude: Like a woman in heat. Yer lil heads filled with unspeakable thin’s, ‘n what’s with all the questions?

Jude: If yer tryin’ to cover up yer perverseness, yer wastin’ yer time.

Jude: I know better than anyone, just how much ya want it.

The instant the whisper falls into the soft spot of my heart, it gets excited and pounds loudly…..

Kate: …..Mmn, haa.

His hand reaches the back of my head and firmly pulls me in.

— Only Jude and I are aware of the echoing sounds that lost in crashing waves.

[Event Master List] [Epilogue]

Translation Note: Jude uses "tasogare," meaning 'Twilight'. In archaic Japanese, it literally means "Who's there," and it was used back then because it was hard to tell who was who in the dusk. So, they'd say "tasogare" or "who's there". I thought the etiology was pretty cool. However, it's also a colloquial term used for those who spend the twilight/nighttime to think in depth. So, I decided to translate it this way.

It's so cute how Kate is learning to read people like Jude does, I love that so much!

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @nawlink

If you wish to be added (and 18+ YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[silent-stories]

Bestfriend!Noah thought:

Noah sits cross-legged on your bed, flipping through an old magazine you found buried in your drawer as he listens to you talking about your last date.

He knew this would happen. That you would start seeing other guys. He had just hoped it wouldn't happen so soon.

“It was awful, Noah. I swear, if I hear one more guy talk about himself like he’s the main character of the universe, I’m going to lose it.” You groan, dropping your head back against the pillows. “He didn’t even ask me one thing about myself. Just went on and on about his job, his car, his gym routine—like I care about his fucking gym routine.”

Noah watches you, his fingers absently curling into the fabric of the magazine. He doesn’t say anything at first, because all he can think is: I would care. I would ask. Even if I already know everything about you. I would ask just so I can hear you talk about things you like and see you being happy doing it.

“And then—get this,” you say, sitting up straighter. “At one point, I mentioned how much I love going to concerts, and you know what he said?” You pause for a moment. “That it’s a waste of money. That if you’ve heard the song once, why would you pay to hear it again live?”

Noah can't even believe it. Are you kidding me? His mind instantly floods with every concert memory the two of you have shared. A waste of money? It’s one of the things that makes you happiest.

You shake your head. “I knew right then it wasn’t gonna work. I mean, can you imagine? If I dated him, I’d have to go to concerts alone.”

Or with me, Noah thinks. Like we always do. Like I wish we could always do.

You shift, hugging your knees to your chest. “And he didn’t even compliment me. Not once. Not when I showed up, not when we left—nothing.” You shake your head. “Like, I put in effort, you know? It would’ve been nice to hear something.”

Noah exhales slowly, his grip tightening on the magazine before he lets it fall to the side. He wants to tell you. I would have noticed. I always notice. I would’ve told you the second I saw you. I would’ve told you how amazing you looked, how you always do, even when you don’t try.

“Was it that bad?” he asks instead, forcing his voice to stay light.

“Yeah. It fucking sucked.”

He smiles a little, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Well… at least now you know what you don’t want.”

You huff, rolling onto your side to face him. “Yeah, I guess.” There’s a pause before you add, “You’d tell me if I looked nice, right?”

Noah’s heart stutters. The words are right there, clinging to the back of his throat. You don't look nice. You always look fucking beautiful. You could be wearing pajamas, messy hair, no makeup, and you’d still be the most stunning person in any room to me.

But he doesn’t say that. He just swallows the ache and shrugs, offering a small, lopsided grin, leaving you wondering if what he's saying is ironic or not. “Obviously. But I don’t need to, because you always do.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his leg with your foot. “Shut up.”

He laughs, but he's already wondering how he'll ever mend his heart if, one day, your date goes well and you come back happier than you ever were with him.

[nikjima]

Bit of a question, if you're open to it. You discovered the Wedding Chapel. What do you guess it was supposed to be used for?

The Chaphael, my font of madness. 😔

Thanks for the ask! It's hard to guess, really, but going over what I know about it:

It has the CTY prefix, not the BGO or GLO prefixes, which is what the rest of the HoH has, so I don't believe it was part of the House of Hope.

Only a small part of it is actually walkable, and parts of the wall are not 'solid', and can be walked through, so from my experience of other scene behaviours It was most likely intended for a cutscene.

The background sound when in the area is also one of the default dungeon environment sounds, not Raphael's theme or any music from the HoH.

It is very incomplete, there are gaps between the wall pieces, the floor is uneven, there are almost no 'triggers' in place, such as those for cameras or lighting, and it's very sparsely decorated, so whatever it was for seems to have been abandoned early, though there is evidence in the game files that suggest it was looked at as late on in development as patch 5.

My delulu theory is, of course, that it was made specifically for the player character to marry Raphael in, after giving him the crown and him making them his consort. I want it to be that so very badly it hurts.

What I think it's more likely to be is either:

a - a spot in the city we could visit to trade with Raphael for rare items using soul coins, as we've been told in the past that Raphael was at one point going to be a trader who we could barter with using soul coins. (as an aside, there's some info in the game files that indicates Raphael would have been able to assist us as a summoned ally, there's a spell named "Diabolical Ally" with the text "Summon the crafty devil Raphael to fight alongside you." The spell summon data contains the UUID for a character that doesn't exist, sadly, so I have no way of knowing what form he would have taken. It isn't set up the way the endgame allies for the final battles are, so maybe it'd have been attached to something you could barter from him? 'Use this ring to call upon my aid once per day' kinda deal. Fun idea) This one is unlikely if it really is a cutscene area, of course, though it could have been a case of 'enter building, cutscene begins, complete trade in cutscene, exit'.

b - a scene where we'd see some kind of cult of Raphael scenario going on, post-epilogue. (Archdevils have cults after all, so surely the Archdevil Supreme would have a real fancy one). Perhaps he chose to desecrate a wedding chapel for his cult base because doing such a thing amused him, all the pomp and ceremony of weddings would obviously appeal to him, and corrupting the location a religious ceremony would be held would be extra delicious. Maybe Hope really liked weddings so it was an extra little 'fuck you' to the cleric who denied him, too. There's an unfinished 'Raphael Punished' area, presumably where we'd witness Mephistopheles eating him, so why not have a counter version for those of us who side with him where we see the fruits of his labour?

c - Raphael actually does take the player character as his consort, binding them to him for eternity as a sort of trophy (I rule the hells and have the Hero of Faerun who slew the Absolute in my retinue, in your face dad, your dragon ain't shit), and being the ostentatious so-and-so he is, decided to have a full ceremony to announce it. It probably lasted 9 days and involved 666 different poems about how great he is. He wrote the vows, and once the player character recites all those infernal words it means they're his possession entirely.

Okay, that last one was veering wildly back into the delulu realm. Let me dream. 🥺

Thank you again for the ask, people rarely ask my thoughts on things, it was fun to go back over the Chapel again. I only spent like 4 hours poring over it this time, not 2 days. Improvement! 🙌

To have and to mould into whatever my heart desires. In your sickness and my health. Not even death shall part us, Little Mouse.

[meadowfics]

can you do a fic where we are the younger sister of dae ho..??? (i love your tumblr btw

yes!!

thank you so much for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this :)

trigger warnings: the games, lol

growing up as the youngest in a big family, you were always the baby of the group.

your four older sisters and daeho were looking out for you all of the time, though he was the one who spoiled you the most.

he had a soft spot for you, always slipping you extra snacks or covering for you when you messed up on grades or chores that your parents made you do.

obviously, you were supposed to be the little brother for daeho according to your father, but oh well.

at least your father got one boy.

when you got older, you wanted to prove yourself, to step out of the shadow of your older siblings.

you had a dream, a business idea you were sure would change your life.

however, dreams don’t always happen the way you hope.

your business failed, leaving you drowning in debt, struggling to stay stable.

at first, you tried to handle it on your own, too ashamed to reach out to your family.

you hadn’t spoken to daeho in years.

last you heard, he was doing well, working at a nice restaurant.

he thought you had moved to france, like you've originally planned and have a new life, but fate had other plans.

desperate, you took the offer from a strange man in a suit, thinking it was your only shot at fixing everything.

just like that, you were thrown into the nightmare of the games.

the first game, red light, green light, shook you to your core.

the sound of gunfire, the bodies hitting the ground...

you barely made it out alive.

your heart was still racing when you stepped into the crowd of surviving players, trying to catch your breath.

suddenly, just over there by that creepy doll... you saw him.

standing among the players, just as shaken as you, was daeho.

your big brother. the one who used to hold your hand when you were scared, who used to ruffle your hair and call you his little troublemaker.

now, his face was pale, eyes wide in disbelief.

he looked older now.

your brother's hair was longer, he looked more tired than ever.

“y/n…?”

daeho's voice barely made it past his lips, but you heard it.

the moment his eyes locked onto yours, the horror in them mirrored your own.

you shook your head, stepping back as if that would change reality.

“no… no way,”

you whispered, your stomach twisting.

he wasn’t supposed to be here.

he was supposed to be safe.

you were supposed to be the failure, not him.

daeho moved toward you instantly, grabbing your shoulders like he needed to make sure you were real.

“what the hell are you doing here?”

his voice broke, raw with emotion.

you could barely answer. your throat felt tight, your chest aching.

“i could ask you the same thing,”

you muttered, forcing out a bitter laugh.

he was supposed to be doing well.

you had convinced yourself that at least one of your siblings was okay.

now, standing in this hell together, you realized how wrong you were.

daeho was quick to pull you into a tight embrace, one that you didn’t realize you needed until you felt his arms around you.

it wasn’t comforting, not really, nothing about this place could be, but it reminded you of home, your childhood of safety, even if those things felt impossibly far away now.

“we’re getting out of this,”

he muttered against your hair.

“our sisters will kill us if they find out that we were here, we need to leave.”

you looked around at the masked guards, the other terrified players, and the blood still staining the ground from the first game.

all you could think was: this place doesn’t let people go.

however, you just held onto your brother, the only familiar thing in this hell.

[tacobacoyeet]

hotline bling | p. z. x reader

a/n: 2016 me would've gone absolutely fucking insane if challengers was a thing back then.

warnings: afab!reader, SMUT 18+, praise kink, virgin!reader, reader is lowkey a mess, drinking, smoking, angst, patrick zweig because he needs a warning, NOT PROOFREAD!

it wasn’t easy to get into stanford university. harder than that, though, was being at the top of your class. sure, you were smart as hell— there was no doubt about that. it took work, though, to be on the valedictorian track, to constantly be 10 steps ahead of your classmates, to be as involved on campus as you were. it was bound to be stressful… but that’s where patrick came in. 

well, he came in a lot of places. but he was a big help to you. any night you needed him, all you had to do was give him a call, and in about 10 minutes flat, his head would be between your thighs, or his hands would be setting fire to your skin, or his mouth would be leaving little kisses and nips and bruises all over your upper body. and it was amazing every time.

patrick taught you things. academically? you knew just about everything. but when it came to what your parents back home would probably refer to as ‘delinquent activities’? patrick was the expert. your innocence was a drug to him. he taught you how to smoke, how to fuck. your whole ‘no-strings-attached’ arrangement was his idea in the first place. patrick was obsessed with corrupting you, but you were obsessed with him. 

you’d be sitting at your desk in your tiny dorm, gripping your hair tightly as the stress of school consumed you, until you’d finally decide that you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when your little pink mototola razr would be in your hand, with you dialing his number because you knew it by heart. obviously. 

“pat. hey.” 

“i’ll be there in 10, baby.”

and he was. sometimes he didn’t even bother picking up. all it took was the sight of your name lighting up on his little sony erricson and he’d be on his way. 10 minutes to get there, about 30 seconds to get undressed, and within approximately 12 minutes, your hands were tangled in his dark curls, his name falling in pretty little whimpers from your lips.

“pat! patrick, fuck, i need—”

“you’re doing so well, baby. such a good girl for me. so beautiful.”

he knew what he was doing, his large, calloused hands gripping your thighs around his hips as he rammed into you. patrick was always a little rough with you, after your first time. but fuck, did you love it. he did too. he loved seeing your face when he fucked the tension out of you. he loved the way you’d cry out his name when he absolutely ruined you. 

this arrangement became normal for patrick, and he became someone you’d constantly look forward to seeing. it was natural, of course. it’s not like you were very experienced prior to meeting him. it only made sense that you cried the night he told you he was leaving to go back on tour, that you guys would have to stop. 

“but, patrick, you said that—”

“i told you that this thing was temporary, y/n,” he sighs out, running a hand through his unruly, dark curls. it wasn’t ideal for him to be doing this right now, not after he had spent the last hour with his head between your thighs, his tongue bringing you orgasm after orgasm, lapping at you like you were his last meal on death row. but perhaps he did that on purpose, to soften the blow. not that it worked, of course.

“i just…” your voice cracks as you speak. “i just thought that—”

“thought what, y/n?”

“that i meant something to you!” you exclaim, probably a bit too loud for the thin walls of your dorm room. “for fuck’s sake, patrick, you took my virginity, you taught me how to smoke, i got drunk for the first time with you—”

“and those were all great times, y/n, but it’s not like i was ever your boyfriend!”

when he says that? that’s when your tears dry up. that’s when your feelings transition from sadness and betrayal into white-hot anger, teetering on the edge of a beautiful indifference. 

“you’re right,” you tell him, your voice suddenly calm. “you were never my boyfriend. good luck on tour, patrick.”

he left. it seemed like he took the version of you that he knew with him. gone were the days of you being known for your intellect, your academic poster-child personality, and your ‘i attend an ivy league school’ aura. it’s not like you had completely given up, no. you were still on top of the class, just… more than academically, now. you’d never give patrick the satisfaction of ruining your intelligence. although, you doubted he even cared to know if he did. you hadn’t heard from him since that night.

it didn’t matter to you, though. patrick was your past. your present was the glass of champagne you had pinched between your fingers as your hips moved while you pressed up on some random person. you were sweaty, but god, you were hot. the group you’d made friends with after patrick left had got you into stanford’s party scene and their closets, which did not disappoint. the tight, short, black dress you had on was a stark contrast to the oversized tees and hoodies that were a staple in your wardrobe when your priority was being valedictorian. now, though? you were multi-tasking between being the smartest person in the room and the hottest. and, yeah. you were killing it. 

for you, life was classes and new assignments by day, and parties and new bedrooms by night. no stupid ‘arrangments’. the only arrangement you had was one with your doctor for regular std tests. that’s all that mattered, anyway. 

in some ways, you transformed into a version of yourself that was built from all the things about patrick that you used to love. 

every time you rolled your own blunts, it was hard not to think of the way he’d always insist on shotgunning the smoke into your mouth. how he’d always praise you when you’d make it through a larger puff without coughing up a lung. how he’d call you adorable when you did, inevitably, choke a little.

it was hard not to think of him every time you put on a ‘sexy’ outfit to go out in. he always loved the sight of you in your large, comfy clothes. he’d always tell you how beautiful you were. it had been months since someone had called you beautiful.

it was hard not to think of him every time you went out to a party or bar with your group of friends. he would always come over to yours. he would always make sure you were cozy and comfortable. he never expected you to abandon your calm, quiet personality. he never wanted you to change.

it was hard not to think of him every time you were in someone else’s bed. in fact, thinking of him was the only way it ever felt good. he’d always tell you how amazing you felt. he’d always tell you how great a job you were doing. he’d always tell you how gorgeous you were, writhing beneath him, crying out his name. he’d say how incredible you were every time you took him in your mouth, sucking him off until he’d finally pull you away from him because he’d never let a single time go by without making you feel good too. he’d groan your name out every time he felt you sink down on him, riding him like your life depended on it. he’d tell you how good you were for him, how perfect, how delicious you were every single time he’d bury his face in your center, his tongue curling into you, his nose brushing against your clit over and over and over again, and he wouldn’t stop until you were a mess beneath him, until there were tears streaming down your face and you couldn’t get any sounds out other than fragments of noises and whimpers of his name.

but of course, none of that mattered. not to him, obviously, and certainly not to you. not right now, when you were stumbling off the dance floor to get a new glass of champagne after downing the last. not right now, when you were standing in the corner to catch your breath. not right now, when you were pulling out your motorola razr, clicking down to his name in your address book. you weren’t calling him. not right now.

[va1iant-viridity]

Oh god, I just thought about another Exocolonist AU idea, here me out. What if:

I Was A Teenage Exocolonist, Kingdom Hearts AU More like I Was a Teenage Keyblade Wielder! (I'll stop)

Sol would be Sora in this scenrio, along with Tammy taking the role of Kairi and Dys with Riku. The three grow up peacefully on Destiny Islands... Well, as peaceful as you can be with Sol having strange dreams of far-off lands and Dys continually frustrated with the paradise, wanting to go out and explore other worlds and struggling with a perpetual sense of missing something (maybe it has to do with a twin sister not being there?) Until of course, one stormy night, Sol notices a Tammy being chased by monsters and running in the direction of their secret base. Sol sneaks out of their house and follows her.

Cue in the three being blown away and transported to different places. Sol ending up in a place where they meet Rex and Nomi and oddly aggressive people(?), Tammy rounding up alone and being chased by monsters, only to be protected by Anemone and Cal after an encounter in the woods. And Dys, ending in league with the mysterious Gardeners.

What all three have in common despite their distance from each other? Well, a recurring encounter with a mysterious figure named Sym of course!

[literally-just-loki]

Ground rules:

Loki was influenced by the mind stone

(this is canon)

Loki was tortured by Thanos

(this is 99% canon)

Loki was scorned for his entire 1000-plus lifespan.

(watch the Thor deleted scenes (the first movie), plus his interactions with the Warriors Three)

Asgard is sexist and racist at the very least.

(rewatch the Thor movies)

Loki is not evil.

(come on, just look at him)

Odin sucks

(take a look at him in the Dark World)

P.S I'm doing a meta analysis of this in the notes.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

One of the saddest tragedies of recent years has been the death of the good-faith argument (or giving the benefit of the doubt). The preferred argumentative style is not to argue based on a respect for the other's intelligence and thoughtfulness, but to assume that the other party must be either willfully ignorant, stupid, or hateful to hold their opinion. Yes, in some cases, arguing substance will do nothing--beliefs genuinely founded on hatred will not change if their lack of logic is highlighted--but most people don't hold their beliefs because of that. Most people, even people with whom you vehemently disagree, hold those beliefs because they have thought about and evaluated them and concluded they are true. Most people are not indoctrinated to the point where coherent arguments are useless. Most people are not willing to blindly accept whatever idea they are handed. And even though some people are, and do, the underlying assumption when speaking to people with whom you disagree should be that they are reasonable people who will respond to reason.

Furthermore, there's a lack of acknowledgement in discussions like these that we might be wrong. It's hypocritical to go into a discussion expecting the other person to change their mind without being willing to consider changing yours. We are fallible people--even if we're mostly right, there's a chance that at least some of our understanding isn't perfect. There's a chance we could have something to learn. That's the basis of all productive discussions, and it's strikingly absent these days, particularly in online contexts.

I write this because I've seen several posts just today on various forums that were deliberately misrepresenting the beliefs of certain groups. There's nothing to be gained from doing this: it will alienate those who are a part of those groups and make them unwilling to listen to you. That will not change anyone's mind. The only outcome of that will be to find others to reinforce your disdain for people with these beliefs. Does that make society better? Does that progress the ideals you would like to see? Or does it encourage anger and further division?

It's not as simple as we like to pretend it is. We are not "the good guys" and they are not "the bad guys." Yes, even them. We are all flawed, fallible people. If we wouldn't want people misrepresenting our beliefs for notes or views--if we wouldn't want targeted hostility directed at us for our deeply held beliefs--if we wouldn't want people being fed a twisted version of our views--why are we doing it to others? We're not better than them. We're different, and we think differently, and that is ok. Isn't that what acceptance is about? Isn't that what tolerance is about?

All this to say, when engaging with a viewpoint you think is false, or wrong, or bad, treat the person expressing it with the same respect you want to receive. They are people, just like you. Being intentionally hostile or condescending only serves to hurt and polarize people further. But, if you argue in good-faith, with patience and restraint, then the exchange of ideas may result in some change and growth--in both of you.

[nyxi-pixie]

the funniest thing about everyone laughing abt will calling mike the heart and being like 'tf no he isnt' is that ur kinda right but also the reason will perceives him as that is bc mike Has always been his most empathetic, caring, understanding, and just generally There emotionally for WILL.

(obviously w fairly frequent slip ups more recently yk s3 and 4x02 and vol 2 exist) but when mike is being 'the heart' hes being that for will and only for will. like theres instances where hes leading the others in a more

traditional sense but in terms of emotional stuff?? almost always for will. so ofc will sees him as the heart when everyone else sees the heart as being will bc mike IS the heart for him. he just.. isnt for anyone else really

[wygolvillage]

sometimes ill jsut reread all of lauras quest dialogue for the millionth time and out loud go "wow those women were literally in love..."

[quanxui]

in the mood for abyss mage x reader.

oh no i just realized the tags got cut lmaoooo. nevermind this is cursed anyways

[legolasgoldy]

✧

SEND ME A ✧ AND I’LL BOLD ALL THAT APPLY TO YOUR MUSE.

// @blind-mutant Thank you!

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better.✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[theirnamesarekiklo]

Cold

Tired and damp, the sweet sweet girl could only hold herself

pairing: !Twin Sister! Reader x Sully Family

a/n: this is kinda like at the end of the movies where the whole battle takes place also this was not corrected at all I literally js pulled this out of my ass 😭 (LITERALLY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LIKES I CANT BELIEVE THIS)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: a lil talk abt suicide, very faint injury desc

⋆★⋆★⋆

Deep pants all around, the only thing on their mind was that they were safe and together. But something deep and churning kept place in Lo’ak’s stomach.

The most common thing between twins in Na’vi culture was that they were more connected than most. They had this special bond that most siblings didn’t obtain. Ever since Lo’ak and his twin sister had been born under the same light, they could feel one-another. They felt each other’s losses, wins, and they especially felt eachother’s heart. So imagine how his heart dropped as soon as he felt alone.

So utterly alone and cold, he felt.

“Dad, where’s y/n?” and everyone’s breath hitched.

— ⋆⋆ —

Gasping for air, she had managed to drag herself on the rough rock, but she couldn’t care less now that she had bigger wounds to tend to. Wheezing out raspy breaths, her shaking hand rested softly on the edge of the blade, the same blade that had pierced her heart. The wound was the biggest one there, despite the bullet hole lodged into her skin.

She wasn’t sure how she felt exactly. Her legs were numb, one of them clearly in no condition to walk with, her face had been covered in dried gore that not even the water could wash off, and her arms were covered in several deep gashes, bruises, and burns. Swallowing the rising blood, she took one more deep breath before her hand gripped the knife, obviously not being enough as the removal was simply worse than the actual wound.

The gruesome scene was surely something, and she was sure that the other guy (who she hadn’t bothered to even learn the name of) had looked worse when she was done with him, but that didn’t stop her from meeting the same fate as he did.

Letting out a scream that truly screamed bloody murder, the girl could only sob and heave and clutch her torn skin that she was sure would get infected if she had even managed to get out of here. What would take her first? Dying of blood loss or dying of infection? Taking a peek at the sky, Her vision was already clouding over. Wincing as she tried getting just a tad bit comfortable on the rock, blood started pooling at the edges of her lips.

Was her older brother okay? She was sure the bullet only grazed him, she took the bullet for him before getting dragged back by the same guy she killed. Most importantly, was her twin brother okay? Was he breathing better than her? Did he carry the same feeling she did at this moment? At this moment, she could recall all the sweet memories she and him shared. They were born together, and she sure was hell glad they didn’t leave the same way, although she wished more than anything that they were right there with her.

Choking out a sob, the girl felt a chill of acceptance run through her. She wouldn’t make it out of this. Even though she was still young and hadn’t completed her Rite of Passage, she knew she was going to die. Curling up into a ball, she felt cold and as if all the thoughts in her head were simply vanishing, the only thing repeating itself were comforting nothings. Clutching at her chest, her slightly parted lips were releasing slow, tiny gasps. Taking one more look at the looming eclipse, she choked back a cry and whispered one last promise to ewya, leaving the world the same way she came into it.

— ⋆⋆ —

“No No No Y/N!”

As the wailing begun, Jake couldn’t help but want to simply shoot himself in the head right now.

Taking one look at her daughter once more, he turned around and crouched down. Taking some shaky gulps of air, he felt as if his world was suddenly closing in on himself. He’s been through this before, only he wasn’t experiencing it directly. Turning his head to take a look at Lo’ak, his heart broke into a million pieces right then and there.

Bringing her hand to his heart, his hands were already covered in her drying blood, trying to gain that silly warmth that everyone felt cover them if they had ever been around her. Whimpering tiny delusions to himself, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sick joke or some type of revenge for all the wrong doings he’s caused in his life. Meeting the eyes of his father, he could tell this was taking somewhat of the same toll on him too.

Trying to let out a few words, only a squeak could be heard before he ran his hand over his face and his his face away from the rest of the grieving children. He had let her die cold and alone.

He had let the sweetest person he had possibly ever met, the one who could do no bad, die stuck in her head and fighting. He wasn’t there to comfort her, caress her face as a distraction from the pain, nothing. If only he had been there sooner, if only he hadn’t betrayed Miles, if only he decided to follow the rules. His babygirl was gone, and the only thing he could do was cower and cry into his hand.

Kiri, who was simply sobbing to herself, truly not even there at the moment, held spider’s hand so tight that he was sure she would break it, but he wasn’t paying attention to that as he shed a wave of tears himself. She was one of the first people to truly accept him into their family and made him feel as if he belonged. Tuk, that poor child, tried laying her head on her older sister’s chest, trying to find a heartbeat, something, to prove that she wasnt really gone forever.

Neytiri, at this point blubbering thing to herself, only calmed down as she took in the peaceful expression on her daughter’s features. She had always been calm, but sometimes the way shadows hit her face showed nothing but a mask. Her eyebrows were always a little tense, but now they rested easily. Her baby, My baby, she thought, was gone. Bringing her face closer to hers, she laid her other hand right onto her cheek. They’ve held each-other like this many times, and to believe that this would be the last was a punch to the gut.

Tsireya, who was weeping right next to Lo’ak, couldn’t help but remember how sweet she was. She had a heart for many, even her brother, who had gone to extreme measures to simply make sure that they hadn’t felt welcome. She recalled the funny and heartwarming, sometimes sad memories that her twin had shared with her, and that only brought more tears to her eyes.

— ⋆⋆ —

The clan was silent.

Both y/n’s ilu and ikran had gone wild, suddenly scurrying off but not without a tiny fight with a few of the men, trying to keep them stable.

Ao’nung, who had seen the whole thing go down, was sure of his reason as to why these things were happening, but he didn’t want to believe himself. He was cruel, desperate to relive himself of these feelings he felt around the doe-eyed girl. Now, as he stood there, rigid and hardly breathing, let out a gasp as he could see a group in the distance.

As people started whispering, they were cut short as his mother let out a tiny noise at the sight of them. Peeking around a shoulder, he felt his heart drop down to his stomach. She was there, only not in the condition he hoped and prayed for. She was limp, pale, and completely rid of life as her father carried her in his arms, obviously not ready to accept the fact that she was dead.

Huffing out a “no”, he ran off, shoving people out of his way as his parents focused more on the sobbing daughter that was shown possibly the first heartbreak she had ever experienced. Her oldest brother didn’t know. How would he possibly react to the news that the girl he promised to protect since the moment she was born, was gone?

—…

[chimielie]

girlfriend

summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.

word count: 2.4k

cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none

a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333

You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.

You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.

The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.

It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.

"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.

It was a perfect first kiss.

In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.

When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.

As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.

He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.

It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.

One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.

He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.

"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.

You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.

Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.

"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?

You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?

You cry when you see him again.

"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.

Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.

"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"

You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:

"No."

Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."

"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."

You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.

"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"

"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."

"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"

"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."

"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.

"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."

"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.

"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.

"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.

"What? That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."

"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."

"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."

"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."

You shake your head. "I believe you."

"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.

"Yes, really."

"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."

"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."

"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"

He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."

"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.

"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."

"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"

"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."

"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."

"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.

"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"

You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.

[slayagami]

wedding day with izuku, katsuki, & shoto !

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° enjoy !

i. midoriya

ִֶ𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku 100% could not sleep the night before

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ would arrive to the venue with you extra early to help decorate and prepare

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were bakugo, todoroki, shinsou, and iida

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ best man was def todoroki

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he got ready with his groomsmen, ranting anxiously to ida and shinsou, hoping that the wedding today would go to plan and be everything you wished for

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ right before the ceremony, he stood tall and proud with his back towards you, hands fumbling as he waited for the reveal. you stood behind him, wedding dress shining under the natural sunlight and giving you an ethereal glow

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you patted his shoulder, giving him the 'ok' to turn around. nervously, he spun his body and locked eyes with yours, green orbs tracing your face that wore natural makeup, down to the beautiful dress you picked months prior after your engagement

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his eyes grew teary, hugging you tightly and crying into the crook of your neck. hands glided down your back, feeling the silky material, mumbling how gorgeous you looked and how lucky he was to be marrying you today

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your eyes watered, hugging your soon-to-be husband back and a hand to trace his fluffy locks. you kissed the side of his head, pulling him to look at you. your hand caressed his face, smiling stupidly in love

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku wore a dark green tuxedo. it was almost black in normal lighting, but once the sun engulfed his figure, the tuxedo shone in a marvelous dark green, almost emerald color that brought out his features. his broach on his chest was a pink carnation, and his pin to his tie was silver.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he looked so handsome to you, your heart growing warm and in awe. your sweet boy, was finally going to be (officially) the love of your life. through thick and thin, hell and back, in sickness and in health, life and death. your last name was now going to be midoriya

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ not far off, the groomsmen and bridesmaids watched from a distance, taking pictures and videos, bottom lips puckered out from the cute scene

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both read your vows in secret, saving you both the tears from your conjoined family and friends in the room. with the say from the marriage officiant, you both shared your kiss as people cheered and cried, clapping to celebrate

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to 'make you feel my love' by adele, you both singing to each other like you were the only ones in the room, crying softly in the lyrics

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love’

k. bakugo

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ katsuki is the type to keep a calm face but be so fucking anxious on the inside

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ constantly checks himself out in the mirror to make sure nothing is out of place, black suit hugging his broad shoulders and small waist nicely

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen consists of kirishima as his best man (obviously), kaminari, and sero. maybe midoriya, if it was later in the years and he actually came to terms with him, but i don’t think he would go out of his way and ask

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he promised he wouldn’t cry, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of quite literally everyone.. but as soon as your song queued the moment you walked in, wedding dress enveloping you in a warm hug with a bright smile on your face, his eyes immediately glossed over

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ of course, he’d try to blink them away and use this time that all eyes were on you to be rid of his water works.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his voice was shaky saying the ‘i do’s, but nobody else could tell besides you. i mean, he is your husband (finally)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ kissing in front of the venue was the least of his worries, he could kiss you all day if he wanted, no matter who was looking. definitely held your waist tightly and pulled you to him, a passionate yet loving kiss being shared between the two of you

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘the only exception’ by paramore, one of the first intimate songs that played in the car at midnight after your date in high school, feeling a strong hold and connection to this song

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held you close, swaying to the song with his face in your shoulder, humming softly along the words with you. tears slowly streamed from your face, while a huge and dorky smile was on his. though, he used your shoulder to cover it from his friends ad family, leaving it only for you to see

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both had your fair share with love problems. you felt used by others and unappreciated, choosing that being alone was better than trying so hard at love when it never worked

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ and bakugo’s young childhood never gave him the correct sense of love, only deprivation of it. he swore he didnt need to be loved, that he was all he needed

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ until your second year at u.a. when you were paired for a class project, slowly falling into each other’s presence and being. until the trips to his house lasted long after the project, becoming familiar with his family

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you allowed yourself to try and be loved again, knowing full well that this would be katsuki’s first time, and might not know how he’d react in the long run. but loving him was too easy not to try

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he tried hard for you. never raising his voice, refusing to let you open any door, bringing you food when he cooked or leftovers he knew you loved. he’d walk you to school, and walk you home, 100% attentive.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ sure, some acts took longer than others, but you never pushed him to do those things. they were all his choice, his timing, when he was ready and wanted to do so

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake was non-traditional, and you both opted for cake pop to pass around, putting one in each others mouth

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘you are the only exception’

s. todoroki

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ another ‘calm face, malfunctioning brain’ type of guy

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ wore a plain white tuxedo, his undershirt a wine red. his flower combination on his chest being a red and white dahlia

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were midoriya, kirishima, iida, bakugo, and kaminari

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ almost didn't invite his dad, though you persuaded him to let endeavor come anyways

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ as you walked into the venue, his eyes never left yours. walking down the aisle make him smile warmly, sporadic heart calming down. it felt to him like you two were the only ones on the planet

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held yours hands at the front, repeating back whatever the minister had said, thumbs running across your knuckles to calm your nerves

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ a little.. a LOT embarrassed to kiss you in front of everyone, moving to stand in front of you and block the view (except from the bridesmaids and groomsmen)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ cheeks were flushed pink as you shared your vows in private, tears flowing down on your end. he held your ands lovingly and kissed your temple, reading his to you with a wobble in his voice

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘merry-go-round of life’ from howl’s moving castle. a movie you both favorited. the same movie from your first date where you both laid in the same bed watching from your room

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you two ball-room danced, smiling at each other like fools at the different music choice that held so much emotion and memories

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he refused to leave your side the whole night, holding your hands wherever you went and telling you (whispering) how much he loved you

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he reminded you how gorgeous you looked, eyes never leaving your figure in your dress. he was in complete awe, jokingly asking you to wear it everyday from now on

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding bands were luxury diamonds custom made, a pink diamonds heart in the center with his silver band matching and complimenting yours (the inside was engraved with your marriage date)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake is a red velvet cake with white frosting, a cute mini-figure of the two of you at the top and faux flowers at the base

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ shoto dances with his mother in a mother-son dance