#they also have an incredibly heartfelt tender moment to make up for it

[hawkeyeslaughter]

fake mash plots — “ potato , potato “

hawkeye and trapper have their first real spat when an ailment with a post - op case befuddles them and they disagree on the cause of it , putting sidney to work during his visit as he tries to resolve the stiff tension between them . klinger picks at some of father mulchay’s beliefs when he interrupts one of his sermons with a question he had not yet considered before . in response , mulcahy questions the rest of the 4077th about their beliefs to try and find an answer .

[n1daehodefender]

Their reactions of you telling them you want to start trying for a baby!

Contains: Kang dae-ho, Nam gyu, thanos

A/N: This is inspired by @svetamillss post about their headcanons of you telling them you want a baby so creditis to them!!!

Warnings: Discussions about starting a family, emotional vulnerability, mentions of trauma, and varying reactions to the concept of having children.

Kang Dae-ho

Golden Retriever Boyfriend Energy: Kang Dae-ho is the type of boyfriend who radiates warmth, kindness, and endless patience. He grew up in a household with four sisters, so he’s very attuned to emotional cues and naturally supportive. He adores you, always making sure you feel loved and safe, and he frequently daydreams about your future together.

Initial Reaction to You Asking About a Baby: When you bring up the idea of starting a family, Dae-ho freezes mid-bite of his food (because you’re probably asking during a casual, comfortable moment at home). His first instinct is to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Wait… like a baby? As in… a mini-you or me running around the house?” His voice wavers slightly, caught between surprise and excitement.

Once he processes what you’re asking, his face lights up with a mixture of joy and nervousness. He’s wanted this, but he never wanted to pressure you.

Vulnerability and Deep Conversations: That evening, he sits you down for a heartfelt talk. Dae-ho takes the idea seriously, wanting to ensure that you’re both ready for the challenges and joys of parenthood.

“You know I’d love nothing more than to be a dad… but I need to know how you’re feeling about it. Are you scared? Excited? Both?” He wants to make sure you’ve thought about every angle, not because he doubts you, but because he cares so deeply.

He also opens up about his past, talking about how his sisters shaped his view of family. “Growing up, I always thought about what kind of parent I’d want to be. And my dad-,… I don’t ever want to be that kind of dad.”

Planning and Reassurance: Dae-ho is the type to throw himself wholeheartedly into the idea once he knows you’re on the same page. He starts researching baby books, looks into parenting classes, and even asks his sisters for advice.

He’s also incredibly tender and protective of you, ensuring you feel supported every step of the way. “You know I’m here, right? Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

Moments of Humor and Excitement: He’s already imagining what your child might look like, joking about how he hopes they get your eyes or your laugh. He gets especially sentimental at night, cuddling you close and whispering, “Can you imagine how much we’re going to love them?”

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu is thoughtful and introspective, the kind of partner who expresses his love through actions more than words. He’s fiercely protective of you, always ensuring your needs are met, and though he isn’t outwardly affectionate, his love for you runs deep.

When you bring it up, Nam Gyu’s face remains stoic, but his hands clench slightly on the table. He’s taken aback—not because he doesn’t want children, but because the idea forces him to confront his own fears and insecurities.

“You want… a child? With me?” His voice is low, almost hesitant. He’s struggling to process what this means for both of you.

Nam Gyu worries about the world you’d bring a child into, especially given his experiences. He’s seen how cruel life can be, and the thought of exposing a child to that terrifies him.

“I don’t want them to grow up feeling… helpless,” he confesses later that night. “I’ve seen too much. What if I can’t protect them? What if I fail them?”

Despite his fears, he can’t help but picture a future where your child inherits your strength and his quiet resilience.

Nam Gyu takes time to process the idea, but he eventually comes to you with a clear decision.

“If this is what you want, I’ll do everything in my power to be the best father I can be. I just… need you to be patient with me.”

He’s cautious but willing, showing his commitment through small actions: building a crib, researching schools, and learning how to cook meals for a growing family.

Nam Gyu becomes even more attentive and protective of you, always keeping a hand on your back when you’re out together and ensuring you’re never overexerting yourself. His love deepens in ways he didn’t think were possible

Thanos (Su-bong)

Thanos is the life of the party, always cracking jokes and keeping the mood light. But beneath his humor is a man who has endured pain and loss, which makes him cherish you all the more. He’s your biggest cheerleader, constantly reminding you how amazing you are.

When you bring up the idea, Thanos immediately bursts into laughter—not because he’s mocking you, but because he’s genuinely shocked and unsure how to process his emotions.

“You’re serious? Like… you want a little Thanos running around? Or maybe a mini-you with your brains and my charm?”

Emotional Vulnerability: Later, when the reality sinks in, he becomes more serious. Thanos isn’t afraid to admit his fears, and he opens up about his past struggles.

“I’ve lost so much, you know? The idea of having something—someone—so precious… it scares the hell out of me. But you… you make me believe it’s possible.”

He confesses his deepest fear: losing you or the child. “I don’t know what I’d do if something went wrong, but if this is what you want… I’m in. No questions asked.”

Thanos approaches the idea of parenthood with his signature humor, making you laugh during otherwise emotional moments.

“Do you think they’ll inherit my good looks or your stubbornness? Or maybe both—poor kid’s doomed either way.”

He starts brainstorming ridiculous baby names and jokingly practices “dad jokes” to prepare for the role.

Beneath his playful exterior, Thanos shows a side of himself that’s deeply emotional and committed. He talks to your belly long before you’re even pregnant, promising the baby a life filled with love, laughter, and bad jokes.

“They’re going to have the best life because they’ll have you as a mom. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure they know how much they’re loved.”

[fa1ry03]

Birthday Wishes

Author’s Note: Thanks so much for all the support on my first piece!!! This is my second, and I’m so excited to share it with you guys! Since Joe's Birthday is coming up, I decided to write a short piece. I hope y'all enjoy this celebration of Joe’s bday. Happy Birthday Joe! 💙🎉

Blurb about the piece: Celebrate Joe Burrow’s birthday with a day full of love, surprises, and passion. From a heartfelt breakfast in bed to a surprise party with friends, every moment is crafted to make him feel special. As the night winds down, tender gestures blend sweetness and spice for an unforgettable celebration.

(not proofread)

word count: 764

The first rays of sunlight streamed into the cozy Cincinnati home Joe Burrow shared with his partner, casting a warm glow across the room. Outside, the December chill hung in the air, but inside, the atmosphere was cozy and festive. Today wasn’t just any day—it was Joe's birthday.

You had been planning this day for weeks. Joe, humble as ever, insisted he didn’t need anything extravagant, but you knew better. A man like him, who poured his heart and soul into everything, deserved a day as special as he was.

You tiptoed into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise and wake him. The plan was simple but heartfelt: start the day with a breakfast he’d love, give him a special message, and let the surprises unfold one by one.

The scent of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee soon filled the air. Alongside the bacon, you prepared his favorite fluffy scrambled eggs, buttery toast, and a side of fresh fruit. For an extra touch, you made blueberry pancakes, his guilty pleasure.

Once everything was plated, you quietly carried the tray into the bedroom. Joe was still asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. You smiled, setting the tray on the bedside table.

“Joe,” you said softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Happy birthday, sleepyhead.”

He stirred, blinking awake. As soon as he saw you and the tray, a sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Morning,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday breakfast,” you said, sitting beside him. “Eat up—we’ve got a whole day ahead.”

Joe sat up, leaning against the headboard, and dug into the food. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he said between bites.

“Uh actually, I did. You only turn 28 once,” you teased, handing him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

After breakfast, you handed him a small envelope. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and opened it. Inside was a handwritten letter, carefully crafted to capture your admiration for him.

“Joe,” it began, “you are not only an incredible athlete but also the most kind-hearted and determined person I know. Watching you chase your dreams inspires me every day. You deserve all the success and happiness in the world, and I’m so lucky to celebrate this special day with you…”

He looked up at you, his eyes soft. “This means so much to me,” he said. “Thank you.”

“There’s more to come,” you said with a wink.

The day continued with a leisurely pace. Joe, ever the competitor, suggested playing a round of Madden on the PS5. Despite your best efforts, he won every game, laughing at your frustrated groans.

By midday, you nudged him toward the door. “Time for part two of your birthday adventure,” you said.

Joe frowned playfully. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you said, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

The two of you hopped into the car, and you drove to one of Joe’s favorite spots—a quiet hiking trail just outside the city. Hiking was one of his ways to unwind, and you knew he’d appreciate the chance to escape the chaos of the season.

As you walked hand in hand along the trail, you marveled at the serene beauty of the woods. The crisp winter air, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the occasional call of birds made for a perfect backdrop.

“You really thought of everything today,” Joe said, pulling you close.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” you replied with a grin.

By the time you returned home, Joe seemed content and relaxed. But the day was far from over.

“Go shower and change into something nice,” you said.

“Why? What’s going on?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” you said, refusing to elaborate.

Joe, curious but cooperative, disappeared into the bathroom. Meanwhile, you got to work setting up the final act of the day—a surprise party with all his closest friends and teammates.

The living room was already decorated with banners, balloons, and a massive “Happy Birthday Joe” sign. You’d spent hours coordinating with his friends, ensuring everyone could be there. The catering had just arrived, featuring Joe’s favorite dishes, including a giant Cajun-style crawfish boil as a nod to his Louisiana roots.

By the time Joe emerged, looking sharp in a casual blazer and jeans, the house was dark and silent.

“What’s going on?” he asked, confused.

“Just trust me,” you said, guiding him to the living room.

As soon as you opened the door, the lights flicked on, and a chorus of voices shouted, “Surprise!”

Joe froze, his mouth falling open. The room was packed with familiar faces—his teammates, coaches, and even a few close friends from high school and college.

“You did this?” he asked, turning to you with wide eyes.

“I had a little help,” you admitted.

The night was everything you’d hoped for and more. There was laughter, music, and endless storytelling. Joe’s teammates shared hilarious anecdotes from the locker room, and his family reminisced about his childhood.

The highlight of the evening was the cake—a massive football-shaped creation adorned with the Bengals’ colors and Joe’s jersey number, 9. Everyone gathered around as you lit the candles and led the group in singing “Happy Birthday.”

Joe blew out the candles, his face lit up with gratitude.

“Speech! Speech!” someone called out.

Joe laughed, raising his glass. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said. “To everyone here, thank you. I’m so lucky to have such amazing people in my life. And to you,” he said, looking at you, “thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

As the night wound down and the guests started to leave, Joe pulled you aside.

“Today was perfect,” he said. “You made me feel so loved.”

“You are loved,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

As you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realized that while Joe’s accomplishments on the field were incredible, it was moments like this that truly defined him. He was more than just a football star—he was someone who inspired everyone around him to be better.

And on this special day, you were grateful to celebrate the man he was, both on and off the field.

-Time Skip-

By the time you guys returned home, the party had been a roaring success, and you’d successfully pulled off every surprise. But now, the house was quiet, the guests gone, and the festive decorations shimmering under soft, dimmed lights.

Joe found you in the living room, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. You had changed into something more alluring—a fitted black lingerie that hugged every curve.

“Looks like the birthday boy survived the surprises,” you teased as he approached, his gaze sweeping over you appreciatively.

“Barely,” he said, sitting beside you and taking your hand. “But I’ve got to say—you outdid yourself.”

“You deserve it,” you said softly, leaning in closer.

Joe’s eyes darkened slightly as his free hand brushed along your thigh. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Maybe I’m the lucky one,” you murmured, your voice low.

The playful energy between you shifted as the air grew heavier with tension. His hand lingered on your leg, tracing slow, deliberate circles.

“You’re not done spoiling me yet, are you?” he asked, his voice dropping into a husky tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“That depends,” you said, your lips curving into a coy smile. “How much more does the birthday boy want?”

Joe didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. The feel of his strong hands makes its way to your bottom. Combined with the heat radiating off him, sent your heart racing.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s my turn now.”

His words were a promise, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a delicious thrill.

As the fire crackled in the background and the world outside faded away, you realized this was the perfect way to end his special day—wrapped up in each other, with nothing but the quiet hum of desire and the promise of more.

Thanks for reading! Send in request plss <3

[court-jobi]

Goldeneye Down

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters/stories))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (quirkless!(gn)reader)

Words: 4.6K

Rating: T+ (canon-typical post-mission shenanigans, so it gets raw, kids.)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, description of injuries/blood, mentions of medical trauma, anxiety, so many tears, mutual pining, HURT/COMFORT, angst with a happy ending

Summary:

If a kiss would fix him, he'd sooner never breathe again. If you knew it would work, you'd surrender your lungs and anything else for his comfort. He hardly gets tender treatment after a fight- and that shows by how tightly he's hugging your waist for dear life. Alternatively: three times you've witnessed your dashing Hawks masking his hurt, until he can't anymore. Each time is worse than the last- until you finally learn that you're the only one who truly asks how he feels after nights like this. Not 'how are your wings' or 'is he stable'... but it's you who takes the time to wipe his face gently with a washcloth: not to rid Hawks of the sweat and grit to make him presentable, but gifting Keigo the chance to feel clean for once.

A/N: Yall, this man is one of my favorite characters on this show, and I have so many writing plans for him-- so apologies for starting right out the gate with angst??? I love him I swear

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

The first time you ever saw Hawks shirtless was hardly the stuff fantasies or a perfume advert concocted. He was bandaged across one entire pec, around his middle, and up to his shoulder, after all.

Work as a writer took you to many glamorous locations, but also to the grittiest– recently, hero hospitals when there’s been a close call and you are in for an interview with either a dying hero for their final public wish, or a heartfelt op-ed about a rising sidekick’s latest stand against threat and evil. In either case, you’d wound up at the bedside of a darling rescue agent who’d had an incredible story to share despite their career-ending injuries. 

With a genuine word of thanks and a shared pudding packet, you were leaving the hospital wing in fairly good spirits until your stomach turned in shock at what awaited you in the hallway– a gravely bandaged Hawks standing at the nurse’s station in a half state of dress, locking eyes with you in the first instance where you’d ever caught him off his guard. 

Those gorgeous eyes flashed in nervous panic which melted into boyish charm awfully quickly- standard practice for the secret object of your affections-

“Well gosh, nurse, I thought you’d give a guy a warning if a guardian angel was going to be visiting today… I’d have been decent enough to put a shirt on~!”

It was a detour of hoarse-voiced flirting on his part and masked heartbreak on yours. Seeing the blonde numbed out and paler than you’d ever witnessed him out on the job, your veil of professionalism slipped enough to really see Hawks in this moment… and catch wind of an unaware attendant who slipped the hero’s last name in front of you. 

Said PA immediately recoiled upon seeing you -an extended member of the press- overhear the #2 Pro Hero’s legal name. Though at your insistence that you were here on business that didn’t concern him, Hawks visibly relaxed enough to give you his first name himself the moment the nurse left. 

‘Mr. Takami is far too formal to come outta you; don’t even think about calling me that, dove.’

Keigo Takami truly was a man containing multitudes, but for all the tough talk about how ‘you should have seen the other guy’, you worried about that man you’ve seen now without his gold visor that night when you went home, and wondered if he was sleeping ok with his chest bound like that. 

The next injury sighting took several months of continued text exchanges, private balcony sidebars, and continued endurance of Hawks’ public displays of blatant sweet talking for you to see him less than chipper again.

Your meeting with the HPSC Press Chair was running painfully long, but necessary given the content you were working on publishing for them as side work. It wasn’t doable for you to take on a full-time job with the Hero Commission, but in your philanthropic effort to unite the civilian world with those of high profile heroes, you took on these winded assignments with the promise of a pay bump… as well as a chance to see your darling flyboy. Not that they’d note or care about your budding affections for him. Thankfully, your tight lipped smiles at him were ironclad and his reputation as a charming star preceded him, even to his higher ups so the true feelings never fully sunk in so long as you were mindful.

Pulling a doubletake at your presence in the conference room from the glass windows led Hawks to hang a left inside to quip at you, fully interrupting your meeting despite the scowls he received from the suits lining the table.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise~ hey there, lovedove. Aren’t you pretty as a peach today?”

“Hey there, yourself,” you turned to acknowledge him politely, but pointedly fixed on his eye that laid nearly completely blackened and the cheek scraped to a raw red.  “--aren’t you looking- purple.”

Hawks being sufficiently threatened to report elsewhere didn’t stop him from throwing you a dismissive wink and a smirk at your subtle worry,

 “Oh this? Nah, it’ll fade. I could use the blush anyway~ it’ll save me a trip for photos tomorrow!”

That charming show of optimism wasn’t a surprise as you turned back to your grumpily apologetic managers, though you never did quite forget how Keigo stayed in the entryway soaking in even your curt ending of the conversation. He had to be practically ushered out by some fellow training officers for him to go on his merry way. Your inspection of him had been lightning quick, and you were nearly certain he was black and blue in more places than his face judging by how he sidestepped out the door.

Would he ever take his pain seriously? Under all that swagger, you certainly hoped so. Or else you hoped someone would make a fuss over him. 

Hawks shows on your patio at 12:30 in the morning one day, knocking silly on your side door. It’s been weeks since you wrote another touching piece for the HPCS’s statement on civic protection, and too long since he’s taken a rooftop stroll with you. Hell, far too long that he's had you close. Keeping you at his side, tucked under his towering wing, shielding you from the night winds, peppering each other with soft-spoken words and some stolen kisses he swears mean more to him than a move ‘just for luck’. 

Hawks knocks three times... huffing. He glanced towards the ground, tucking what's left of his wings further in with a wince. He knocks four more times, each more insistent than the last, but mindful of the noise. He even shushes himself in the delirium, canvassing your living room for signs of life.

Your oven light was still on, suggesting you hadn't gone through your full nighttime shutdown yet. That single light bulb in your kitchen appeared to double the more he stared, and tried to blink the unease away. Shit. He's really in no condition to fly. The sidewalk below your floor takes his attention again at the cry he hears. The sound is only cat this time, but still makes him oh-so nervous.

Hawks moans his impatience coupled by the searing pain, begging you to come notice him at the sliding glass. He drops his head damp with sweat to the window (intent to apologize for it later) and just bangs on the window like the desperate man he is.

"Please be up, please be up, please..."

When he opens his eyes briefly, he sees a shadow before him approaching. You'd flicked on more light in your living room and were jogging up to the window with shock brightening your features to total wakefulness. He's never been happier to see you so panicked.

Your confusion is palpable behind the door as you push the blind’s interior locking rod aside and flip up the lock, sliding it-- and Hawks-- along with you.

"Who-ooah!! Hawks??" You whisper-scream.

Stumbling aside, he grips his still bleeding hip and winces at what that move causes for his back. Eyes screwed shut, he can't even quite manage a suave, sweet greeting; he merely sighs your name as an answer to prayer.

You take in this poor, disheveled shell of a hero as he looks every bit like he's come from a dogfight. Not only were his wings sparse and bony from overuse, but his left wing was seizing up and stunted at a poor angle you knew wasn't natural.

oh my God, those poor wings… You collected him up with ready arms- gingerly guiding inside through the center of the patio, wary of bumping either's span of the door. 

"carefulcarefulcareful–"

"eh, it’ll-- nnngh!!" Hawks doubled over-thankfully right into you- "I got'kicked in the back-- right under...ahhhh~ "

Not only that, but despite the blackness of his under armour and gloves, you noted now by movement and smell that he was bleeding elsewhere. Besides the hobble, he sports a busted cheekbone and lip– which he likely bit himself.

This was a hard state to see him in and truly frightened you by the blood loss alone. Worse than any other time you’d seen him after a mission by far.

Primal, parental  instincts filled you and spilled out before you could stop yourself.

"Honey, we gotta get you to Dagoba General; it's closest--"

"I can't-" Hawks stopped you with a vice grip on your wrist while he hobbled along, "s'too public."

-Not allowed, even in an emergency. This you remembered from his earlier run through of policies about heroes needing medical attention; where in the city he could go, how it should be handled privately, and out of civilian's eyes.

"oh shit-- well, how bout the hero hospital, the one by that high school? Can't you call- or I can call! Let me-"

"No~" hawks moaned miserably. "I jus' gotta sit."

“Aren’t you -uh- supposed to have your legs up? You can lay back, it’s ok,” you try to guide him, but he only wavers- set on sitting up. His still-sure sights canvassing the room tells you he’s in a protective, alert headspace here in new surroundings. He might need more direction from you to break this..

"Hawks-- this is beyond what I can do,” You tried to reason with him, grappling a random throw blanket semi draped on the couch before he could sit down. “I told you I worked in refugee centers, I only know basic first aid- but this is more than I can help you, honey! They can get you fluids, a transfusion if you need it, pain meds stronger than what I have from the corner store if you’d just- where's your phone, I can call for an ambulan-"

Hawks fired up right away-

"NO!!" He begged, "no- they, they can't.. I don't wan'.."

Helping him sit, you knelt carefully trying to hear through his clear pain-rattled rant.

You assume he doesn't want the trouble of an ambulance or worry it wouldn't get here in time- which scares you more is debatable.

"We’re working against time here, hot stuff.." you tried for levity, caressing his hand. While he took it shakily, he bit his groan back.

He looked at you seriously, but pouted back in a way you'd normally giggle at, "No 'wee-woos'."

"I know you don't want ‘wee-woos’, but I think we're past that now." 

You cup Hawks’ cheek which successfully transfixes his attention right on your face, while you blindly try his jacket's inner pocket for his phone- closer than yours that’s clear in the back bedroom on your charger, 

"Look, I'll even talk for ya, okay? You don’t have to explain a thing about what happened tonight. Let's just get you help-"

"NO!! I can't hav' 'em find you here!"

His outburst startled you so you pulled back from his jacket entirely- at a true loss, "Can’t have who find me?"

"I won' let 'em," Hawks shook his head, pressing into his side, "I-- they don' know I'm here- they can' see only the pinpoint. Not ell'vation. Ahh. Don't wan'em know.. where you live, f’they don’ already."

You fought to keep up. He's clearly distressed- but you're surprised it's by the thought over your residence being found out. Who would be upset at the fact of him being here enough to have him shaken from even emergency services finding out?

Then you realize, he’s on the clock. He’s gotten hurt at work, and he’s not patrolling anymore. ‘The asset is damaged,’ and he’s laying low effectively out of sight.

"Your.. what, your bosses? Is that what you're worried about right now?"

Hawks was fighting for some deeper breaths. Some old instincts finally kicking in, he’s pushing air out forcefully though his lips in a decent try to slow himself down. He knows you know that much– how his work is essentially divvied into two piles: the stuff you hear about on the news, and the stuff you don't. The HPSC handles both, but primarily involves him in one. Thankfully, he knows you're quick enough to know tonight is a night of the latter and one that you know you shouldn't ask too much more of, despite your clear desire for understanding. 

But he’s bleeding on your sofa and he is about to damn near break or bleed out and you feel drawn to his heart and feel a selfish urge to know.

"I don't understand- why, ... why come here if you were worried, Kei?"

"I was.. close,” he offered with some huffs again.

That answer felt too loaded, but you were too groggy yourself to reason with such a clammy man dealing with who knows how much blood loss.

He forced as much clarity to his vision as he could, while watching you get up to close the patio door up. You shut the blinds for good measure too before debating whether to run back to the bathroom and  grab what gauze and antiseptics you had. For both the sake of time and to keep the poor man from following you throughout the apartment like you knew he’d try to do, you settled on wetting a few washcloths by the sink and came back to him.

"Your fight was close to here?" You kept him in the moment while attempting to get off his coat. He sat forward to help in this, but his eyes shut hard as it forced his shoulder blades together, to feed the gap over the wings.

Through steeled grunts he manages it, then strangles out the basics for you, "Y-yeah.. small.. weap'n traffic ring. But we had intel they'd.. Had a hit out on’the magistrate."

You set the bloodied jacket to the ground- torn between looking at his pained face and getting a look at the hip he was leaning into.

"They hadda few tough quirk users," Hawks gritted, separating his hand at your insistence. The shirt peeling back sticky was the least of his worries when you laid the wet washcloth at his side, "one had blades for legs, n’the other had a kind of whip-AHH!!"

Only water, but it burned like hell. Burned through the mess he'd made of himself. Proof he'd been sent in there outmatched-- 5 to 1 so he says, but even for the #2 Hero, the odds were stacked against him for a covert attack. You whispered a gentle apology over the sting.

You hated hearing the challenge and clear surprise of the incident that caused this version of your hero to be brought to the surface, knocking on your door like a kid trying to sneak back into the house in the middle of the night.

"So they nicked you here– and your back?" You asked gently, "Anywhere else?"

"They were gonna take out the block--"

You heard the panic rise in him again, the tremor in voice and wings.

"Haw-.. Keigo."

"They were gonna-- they didn't even know you lived up here.. you of all people.. but they were gonna do it. I had- said I hadta stop em, whatever it took.."

You set the first soiled cloth aside, centered between his spread knees, and cupped his face in both hands now. He's trembling all over and pulse is going wild under your fingers. He locked onto your necklace- avoiding your eyes in anger, guilt, and a messy, gnarled ball of exhaustion while you cleaned his face.

It wasn’t clinically necessary, but you wanted to.

 "But you stopped them," you reminded, "You said you got 'em, right?"

Something flitted across his face that looked hollow- like a younger side of Keigo Takami was looking for help finishing his thoughts. Like he was reverting to a shadow self that was about to cry just feeling you cool down his neck with the clean side of a washcloth.

"I got em." He barely whispered, new frustrated tears flooding his eyes and forcing his brows together. "I did it. I did-- what they wanted me to."

The way he says it is not a victory. It's guilty, not even proud in a sense of justice. It was forced; not unlike a militant following orders.

"The safety commission, keeping folks safe at all costs," you answered for him, forcing his eyes to blink at the name. What crimson feather remained ebbed and rustled on impulse.

Suddenly, he frowned down at his own hands, suddenly wrenching himself free of his damp, tainted gloves, like they were burning him alive the longer they stayed on his fingers. 

"Cost them," Hawks croaked, "Wanted t’take ‘em in, make them pay the way we always do. But then they said they're taking the block out- and I couldn't let em- I couldn't let them get you or anyone else--I shoulda felt like a damn hero they say I am."

Hawks shook his head pathetically, nearly collapsing forward at the feel of you raking his bangs back, before he sobbed,

"but I didn't want to. They begged. Couldn’a run when they knew they couldn't win, so they begged. I don't wanna do it this way, don't want it to come to this. I can't keep ending it all just because I can!! I’m no–"

Hawks wipes harshly at his eyes with the heel of his palm, his anger at a tipping point.

Your heart sobers and breaks altogether. He's confessing to you because he knows this whole ordeal is going to be painted so differently by the media in the morning. Heroes have to make impossible calls- and you know his handlers don't make it easier on him when it comes to completing these covert assignments. They’ve essentially given him a license none others do- allowances that dance in the world of grey.

Hawks and heroes like him have been granted permission to take lethal measures. But it’s a grim, fell thought that when you’re in the moment- the choice to kill or stay in your armed hands. The pressure is bound to weigh anyone, make them crack and doubt their sensibilities.

Any bystander would call Hawks heroic for saving more lives than taking them- but fear is what forces him to kill. Fear of loss, of the catastrophic unknown that he continues to fight for faster and faster. 

You leveled with Hawks’ sightline, forcing terrified eyes to yours. While the sight of this confident man worn down grieved you, schooling your face and brows to be strong was an easy ask when he needed you.

"I know you didn't,” you affirmed all he said, “You were so brave, Keigo. You were really brave, no matter what. No matter how these fights end. You always are brave."

Keigo listens and heaves an ungodly sound at your words. 

Suddenly, he's pulling you close and crying into your chest and you meet him all the way. You lock your grasp around his shoulders gingerly at first afraid to hold too tight. Cradling his head to you and hushing him seems to work for now, since he’s able to speak again after more schooled breaths. 

But this reaction from him is far from assured; he’s afraid. Unheard. And it seems with you, he can finally air these harsh truths without outside ears listening in stopping his tongue.

"They don't care how hard it is. They don't care. They just push and push and push me, and 'm tired and it hurts!!"

All you can do is hold him.

"I know, baby,” you barely speak, “I know it does, I know it hurts..."

“It always hurts,” he sobs, “It does every time. When you saw me and you looked at me, and you asked me if it hurt, I lied because I had to. But shit, this hurts…”

Hawks’ heated hands grasp at you: the contour of your body is the altar he's kneeling at- from this very spot of your couch. He's wailing now- half in pain, half in misery of being failed over and over again and only now -in secret- ever receiving someone to listen in return. The sound barely makes noise as its buried in your middle, but it rocks you where you kneel up straight to keep him close.

You let him grieve and hold space for every bit of it. He's never once been this vulnerable with another soul in his life, you’re convinced, and he sounds just so grateful to have your hands on his. Grounding. Giving him relief he's been starving for since you first paid attention to him across that crime scene where you first met.

Once he began mimicking your pronounced breathing he finally starts to feel more calm. 

To give him air, you robbed one hand from around him in order to push back some hair from his face and check his temperature. He could actually feel how cool your hands were once he started getting color into his face from his spot at your chest. Drained and pliant, he mumbles something at your sternum, and you ask him to repeat it gently,

“Hands’re cold,” he whispers.

“Oh, m’sorry.”

“No,” he shuts his eyes. "Feels good. You feel so good. The other docs, they're just so-- clinical.. They don't- they aren't gentle. No one feels as good as you do.”

Softness seeps from the very pit of you. What you won’t give to protect this hero now. 

You see a slumped pillow at his side and think to use it as a bolster until his back spasms lessen.

"Here, babe. Let's get one of these behind you. You can lay back a bit-"

Hawks chips his chin up to you, a bat of his eyes pleading, ‘don’t go’.

It’s official: you love him.

"I won't go,” you coo down to him, “I won't make you get up. I'll be here. Right here." 

You kiss that hot, flushed forehead, and he wants to crumble again by the way you hear him swallow. 

“I-” Hawks tries to recover from his overwhelm, "...I need you..."

Your answer would never deny him, "What do you need, pretty bird."

"Need you– hold on t'me." Hawks nuzzles your neck in relief.

"I've got you. I've got you this time. You always have everyone else; now I have you."

This is the way you’d keep him, if he were all yours. After a day of things he’d rather forget, you’d replace them all with kind words and soothing touches that settle his restlessness. To his nature that never stops moving, you’d make it your mission to bring some stillness and comfort to the forefront of his burdened mind.

While you’d love for reality to keep on pause, a flash of movement at the window gave you hope rather than alarm, 

“Hey, Kei. Lookie there. You've got a little pile waiting for you~” you nod back to the patio, catching some blips of red near the unobscured vertical blinds. “Would having them back on you help? Make you feel more steady?"

Interest piqued, Hawks sounds pleasantly surprised seeing them with his own eyes. 

"Ah. Yeah."

"Wanna rinse off, too? You can; use my shower, get yourself a lil more fresh?” the offer is true and comes from you easily. Happy to offer whatever healing measures possible to him while you wipe away leftover tears from a set of perfectly golden eyes. “I can’t promise I have something that fits you super well, but let’s see what I got.”

You knew the hot water would likely sting his wound, but would also buy him more time before he's  ready to fly again and go get checked out more formally.

Still wilty, Hawks gives a comical grimace in the face.  “I’d sure hate t’bleed all over your stuff.”

“Stuff can be washed; there’s only one you.”

And at this, he finally looks back up to you like the Keigo you know and sinks at the idea, giving in to the tempting idea. He nods. Any trace of boiled over bitterness in his aura has faded to a low simmer, and has left a warm, comfortable, gorgeous-looking man to peer up at you. 

You help him up, open the door once more, and Hawks is able to stand a bit better on his own now with a wingspan full of settling feathers preening themselves into place. Once face to face, he finds his hands are still seeking out your waist, and his face furrows– unwilling to let go fully of his personal painkiller.

You still his hesitation with a mouth’s warm press to his cheek followed by a gentle kiss on the lips. His palms go lax and a moan leaves him softly.

“I'll hold you all you want when you get out,” you whisper gently to him. “No funny business, I promise. Yeah?"

As if he held any true worries. 

"Wouldn’t ever mind if you did, dove. But yeah– I’d like that."

With another lingering kiss, you do your utmost to take things as quickly as he can manage for the sake of getting him to rest quickly… but by the way Hawks eyes you from all your puttering about the apartment, he holds no urgency or rush. To the contrary, he's happy going slow and steady while he’s with you. 

His hand catches yours any chance he gets until he’s ultimately able to lay his head to rest on you at the first idle moment of the evening. Its in these, the wee morning hours, that he’s eager now to remember this as the first night you got to help him heal and not just recover.

"You sure you aren't rushing it?" the slight worry tinges your sleepy morning voice in just the next few waking hours. All you both had was a glorified nap given his late arrival.

The song of your concern obviously pleases your loving company, as the edges of Hawks’ eyes crinkle at your worry. 

"I gotta report in by six. I'll stop at my place, change before I go in, heat up something to eat. And I’ll text you when I get there."

The checklist of answers is sweet and characteristically Hawks, but you hope Keigo hasn’t checked out of your bubble yet.

"Okay. But.. take some time if you can. Come see me if you still need me."

A noticeable fondness settles across Hawks’ devilishly handsome smile, and comes over to cup your face for another coffee-masked kiss. 

"I always need you.” Thank you. For everything. "I'll see you soon." I love you.

"See you soon." I love you too.

Weeks pass with Hawks’ semi-regular visits to the apartment, holding you in the kitchen like the lovesick boy he is at heart. ‘Talking work’ he claims, when his higher ups ask him about the delays, but he’s more inclined to slack and slip into far more personal matters as he guides you over back towards the barstools and sits back on one.

A curious mind makes you question why he's pushing the limits of his absence until he pulls you in to completely become flush with him and realize he wants your attention before anyone else’s. He sinks in how you set your hands on his shoulders, smiling like a sweet dope, looking up at you while you check him over.

You know he’s tired from a day on patrol in full sun, but the faint sunburn across his cheeks doesn’t seem altogether too painful. Just needs a decent aloe blend. Still, you ask as you always do, 

“How you feelin’, pretty bird?”

And he truly answers honestly now, no bravado for handlers to scoff at or bystanders to placate:

“Better now.”

[ghosthands]

How The Obey Me Brothers Hug You

Lucifer

A hug from Lucifer, the prideful and sophisticated eldest brother would be a mix of regal charm and unexpected warmth

His touch is both commanding and comforting

His arms would encircle you  with a sense of authority, yet his grip would be surprisingly gentle as if he's guarding something precious

The scent of his cologne is elegant and subtly intoxicating and will linger on your body.

He may rest his chin lightly on the top of your head

It's a rare display of the tenderness hidden behind his usually aloof demeanor

Despite his air of superiority, in moments like these, you feel a deep sense of affection and security

Mammon

A hug from the charming and somewhat greedy 2nd brother would be full of energy, warmth, and a touch of mischief.

When he wraps his arms around you’ll feel a playful enthusiasm that is uniquely Mammon

His hugs would be a bit unrestrained, with excitement that makes it feel like he’s sharing something special. 

you’d probably hear him mumbling something about how this is a rare privilege or how he’s "gracing" you with his affection

The embrace would be a bit lively, with a few light-hearted jabs or teasing comments thrown in

Despite the bravado, you’d feel his genuine affection and a comforting sense of security, as if he’s momentarily putting his usual antics aside to show you that you’re important to him.

Leviathan

Leviathan’s embrace begins with a noticeable hesitation. His shyness is palpable, and his arms might feel slightly awkward as he tentatively wraps them around you.

His hold is gentle and a bit uncertain, as if he’s carefully testing the waters of physical affection. The tenderness in his touch reflects his cautious approach to personal connections.

Over time, as he adjusts to the closeness, his embrace becomes warmer and more relaxed. The initial awkwardness gives way to a more genuine expression of affection.

Leviathan might mumble something about how this experience doesn’t quite match up to his favorite gaming scenarios or how he’s not entirely used to this sort of interaction

Despite the awkwardness and his own reservations, his hug is filled with sincere affection.

Satan

Satan’s hug begins with a deliberate, composed movement. His approach is calm and thoughtful, as he carefully considers how best to express his affection.

He holds you with a reassuring grip that’s neither too tight nor too loose, conveying a sense of stability and control.

As you’re enveloped, you might catch a hint of something soothing and familiar. Perhaps the faint scent of leather and paper from his favorite books.

If you’re having a hard time, he might say something soft and reassuring, offering words of comfort or encouragement. 

Asmo

Asmodeus’s hug starts with a burst of energy and excitement. His approach is lively, and he might even give a playful twirl or a dramatic flourish as he wraps his arms around you.

His embrace is soft and cozy.

The touch is gentle but confident, filled with a sense of opulence and care.

He would deliver playful compliments or affectionate remarks, adding a touch of flirtatiousness to the moment.

Asmodeus’s hug is a sincere expression of how much you mean to him, showing that his affection goes beyond his usual flashy exterior.

Beel 

Beel’s hug has a solid, reassuring grip. His arms, though powerful, are incredibly gentle, ensuring you feel secure without being overwhelmed.

His embrace is warm and safe , like a comforting cocoon.

You can feel the strength in his arms but also the softness of his affection.

Despite his usual focus on food and strength, Beel’s hug reveals his tender side. It’s a genuine, heartfelt gesture that shows he values your presence and is always there for you.

Belphi

 Belphie’s embrace feels effortlessly relaxed. He wraps his arms around you with a laid-back demeanor

His touch is surprisingly soft and soothing, like a plush blanket.

You might notice a subtle hint of something calming, perhaps the smell of fresh cotton.

He might mumble a few sleepy or half-asleep words, expressing his fondness in a soft, almost drowsy tone. His speech is unhurried and gentle

 It’s a quiet, heartfelt gesture that shows he values and enjoys your company.

[faelorelia]

They can scream that Byler will never happen all they want, but the facts are the facts:

Mike Wheeler cares about Will Byers very much (shown throughout the whole series). They have a strong bond and connection (even just as friends).

Mike puts Will above his other friends (“Dustin, Lucas, and Max are great – but it’s Hawkins – it’s not the same without you.”)

Will is canonically in love with Mike, making Byler semi-canon.

Mike behaves differently with Will, especially when they’re alone. His face shows a gentle expression many times he looks at Will, proving that he cares about him a lot (even in just-a-friend way).

Will and Mike have shared many emotional, intimate, and heartfelt moments throughout the series (official scripts and captions explicitly used these words to describe their scenes). In fact, almost all of their 1-1 interactions have been incredibly tender and heartwarming (especially in S2 but in the other ones as well).

They have a lot in common: their hobbies and interests (e.g., D&D), interrelated passions (drawing+writing = comics), a shared trauma (related to the Upside Down as well as bullying).

Will and Mike understand each other without words (“Oh, I didn't say it.” – “You didn't have to.”)

Asking Will to become his friend was the best thing Mike’s ever done (his monologue to him in S2) whereas meeting El was “simple dumb luck” (Mike’s words to Will in S4).

Mike is frustrated and heartbroken at the thought of losing Will (shown in the whole S1 & 2 + him saying “I felt like I lost you” in S4) and wants them to be “a team”/best friends again (their heart-to-heart in Will’s bedroom in S4).

It was Mike who never gave up on looking for Will. It was Mike who cared about Will as much as his mother Joyce (“I'm the only one that cares about Will!”; “All I know is Will is alive. Will is alive! He's out there somewhere. All we have to do is find him.”) It was Mike who always had to make sure Will was okay (S2 & 3).

It is Will who Mike goes to apologize to after their fight and not El, who was also waiting for Mike’s apologies (twice).

It is Will who desperately tries to make Mike feel loved and save his relationship with El.

Will and Mike have been, are, and will always be an important part of each other’s lives no matter what happens. Even as best friends, their bond is too strong to be broken, as proved and reinforced in S4. Friends or lovers, these two will always care deeply about each other.

[aether-bun]

Happy Birthday!

To celebrate my birthday, here's a drabble of assorted Hades characters and how they'd be on your birthday! You are in a relationship with Zagreus in this one :)

Characters: Nyx, Orpheus, Eurydice, Zagreus, Thanatos, Hypnos, Dusa, Megaera, Achilles, Patroclus, Cerberus, Asterius, Sisyphus, Bouldy

Warnings: None! Good wholesome times all around ♡

You wake up to Zagreus kissing your face!!!!

I believe in Zagreus caring deeply for physical touch and quality time your honour. Once you warm him up to it, it's his heaven in Hell. He adores it.

He's very warm, but it's never really been a problem, given the consistently nice temperature of the House

"Good morning, [Y/N]. Happy birthday~" He cooes gently, his voice is smoother than the finest ambrosia and you revel in it, snuggling into his chest.

"What would you like to do today, my dear?"

"Mmh....Is sleep an option...?" Zagreus chuckles at your drowsy response, his chest rumbles pleasantly and you find a contagious smile growing on your face.

"Birthdays only happen once a year, darling...Come on. Eurydice made you some cake."

"She did?"

"Yes! When I told her it was your birthday this week, she jumped to the opportunity."

"Then I suppose I must get up?"

Zagreus kisses your head lightly, and you melt from the tender care

"I suppose you must, yes."

You wake up and get into some nicer robes, and walk out with Zagreus to see Nyx regard you.

"Happy birthday, child. As a token of this occasion, I managed to convince Hades to give everyone a moment off, to greet you." Nyx's voice almost sends you to sleep again, but you're much more awake now, and you feel too sheepishly happy to rest.

"Lady Nyx, you really didn't need to...!" Your voice is as incredulous as you feel. "But...Thank you."

"Of course. I believe Hypnos wanted a word, so perhaps you should see to him first."

You and Zagreus walk over to Hypnos, who is currently not sleeping, which shocks you both, though he looks about ready to knock out for the next week at the minimum.

"[Y/N]!! Happy birthday! Dusa and I made you a little something, here here!" He exclaims, all tiredness wiped from his aura entirely as he hands you a small box.

Gingerly, you take off the lid, and inside you are happy to find a new laurel, woven carefully with your favourite colours and plants. You find yourself beaming at the beautiful heartfelt gift, before giving Hypnos a tight squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Hypnos. The detail is incredible!" You say as you part, and Hypnos giggles with a mischevious grin. "It was mostly Dusa, to be perfectly honest, but I helped weave it, so getting the first hug of appreciation for it feels fair."

You laugh, before Sir Achilles approaches with a calm smile of his own, before placing a hand on your arm.

"Unfortunately, I don't have any gifts for you myself, but I do wish you a happy birthday nonetheless. Do spend today well, yes?"

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best." You smile, remarking mentally that your cheeks are starting to hurt, but also that you don't find yourself minding.

Next stop is to Meg and Dusa, who are waiting in the lounge with Thanatos. When they see you approach, Dusa is the first to float to you. The snakes that make up her hair affectionately grasp onto your arm as you hold Dusa affectionately. "Happy birthday!" She skitters, almost purring in a strange, Dusa-like way.

Meg is next, though she holds her distance as per usual. She's smiling, and her whip is stowed. "I've gotta hand it to you, [Y/N], I don't usually tend to care for birthdays, never mind my own...but you got me a morning in the lounge. So...thanks for that."

It was a strange way to go about saying happy birthday, but for you, it was more than enough. You nodded. "I can't believe Nyx pulled it off. Surely there are some wretched shades out there being overworked now, no?"

Megaera simply shrugs, but the creeping grin on her face tells you she hopes it's the case.

Thanatos clears his throat, and you realise he's held something out to you. It was a bottle of nectar. You gasp, taking the weighted spherical bottle in awe.

Zagreus squints at it, still by your side, before suddenly looking at Thanatos. "I gave you this bottle of nectar yesterday!" He says, indignant. Thanatos smiles - a rarity on its' own - and simply dismisses the Prince.

"Regardless of where you got it from...Thank you, Than, this...this means a lot." You say, your voice still awestruck by the honey gold liquid you're holding.

Zagreus of course brings you plenty, but even so, its' beauty never ceased to amaze.

You visit Sisyphus, who gives you Pebble (one of Bouldy's brothers, who has a delicately punched smiley face on one side), then you visit Orpheus and Eurydice, who gives you a kiss on the cheek and some cake, then you meet with Patroclus, who takes your hand very hesitantly and prays for you, for your good luck this year. He says he'll see you at the house, and on your way back, you find Asterius.

Zagreus prepares for a fight, but Asterius is unarmed, and he quickly realises.

"Asterius? What are you doing here, without your axe?" He asks. Asterius chuffs.

"Your father gave us a small break this morning, small one. You said something about celebrating someone's birthday last we clashed blades, and so, naturally, I assumed it would be your lover's. Was I correct?"

Zagreus stows his blade and you nod a little. "That's right, Asterius sir." You clarify. "It's good to know he gave even you and Theseus a break, too."

Asterius snorts, though it's not one of amusement or malice, simply a noise. He rifles through a pouch he has, before handing you a weighty box. Inside is a handaxe, crafted by the minotaur.

"You have no weaponry when you wander out here, I've come to notice. This is for when we meet in the stadium. For if you need more than simply the blessings of the Olympians." The bass voice of the bull rumbles, and you hold the axe firmly with a grin. Zagreus chuckles next to you.

"I appreciate this, Asterius. Thank you. Send our regards to King Theseus?"

Asterius laughs.

"I don't think he'd take it well, but I wish you a good day despite."

Asterius leaves, and you and Zagreus are amusedly quick to do the same.

Eventually, after a day of exploration, you cuddle up to Cerberus and thank Nyx on your way through, before laying down with your Zagreus.

"Today was fantastic, dearest." You say. Zagreus holds you close, playing with your hair. "I'm glad. But there's still one present you've yet to receive, my dear~"

It's 1AM right now. Use your imagination.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Relationship headcanons for Slade Wilson & Clark Kent with gn s/o?

I kinda got carried away with the Clark relationship head-cannons that I forgot that you also wanted Slade…oops. 🦦

Baby girl

Malewife

Certified himbo

Golden retriever energy!

Heart of gold, dumb of ass-

Okay I’ll stop but you get the gist, this man would honest to god, worship you. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he wouldn’t cuz we all know he would.

No thoughts, head empty; just full of ways where he could love on you.

He’s a cutie! And he probably trips over or unintentionally hurts himself because he can’t help but admire you and all of your handsomeness/beauty/gorgeousness.

Hell I bet before you two were dating Clark’s confession must’ve been the most sweetest, heartfelt, and the most adorkable thing ever.

He would probably be on the fence whether or not in telling you he’s Superman because he doesn’t want to put you in any sort of danger but then again being in a romantic relationship with him was already putting you in danger; so he would probably have to sit you down for that conversation, hold your hands within his bigger ones and pray that you understood his reasoning behind the secrecy.

His love languages have got to be one or all of the following;

words of affirmation: he will call you any and every endearing word in the dictionary even if you were only just getting up to start your day. He’s your hype man in every sense of a word and will not allow you to be harsh or look down on yourself. He’s not having it, so he won’t hear it because how can you not see yourself the way he sees you?

To Clark, your phenomenal, exceptional, extraordinary, amazing, incredible, excellent, talented, fantastic, handsome, beautiful, charming, gorgeous and above all else; you. That’s all he wants you to be. Yourself.

acts of service: as I said before Clark lives to serve and with that I’d like to think of him taking on chores that he knows you don’t particularly like doing just so he could relieve the stress of having to do it off of your shoulders. He’d also attempt to make breakfast, but your better off helping him so he doesn’t accidentally breaks the handle off of any appliance you have at your disposal by unintentionally using excessive force.

Clark would do stuff that would be considered small to other people such as leaving out clothes you found most comfort in, neatly folded in your dresser, or bending down to help you in tying your shoes, but to you they were the biggest expressions of love one could ever experience.

Physical touch: this man is a cuddle bug and no one can tell me otherwise. Oh yeah don’t get me wrong but just because he’s stronger then the average man don’t mean he ain’t gonna hold you tight against him -though not too tight- and still be extremely cautious of the usage of his strength. he doesn’t wanna hurt you in any capacity at all. He’s so, so gentle and frequently worried about the consequences that would come if he didn’t handle you with enough care.

Hand holding is a staple in your relationship.

He’s a big spoon and a little spoon in terms of cuddling because he wants to feel as though he’s protecting you in your most vulnerable form and also wants to be comforted by you as he lays his head on your chest. It’s almost a comical sight, you spooning this Greek god of a man but it’s such a sweet and tender moment between the two of you finding comfort in each others presence and being able to be your most vulnerable with them that it completely negates all of that.

back hugs in the morning from either you or Clark because I just adore the idea of this man coming up behind you and hugging you with his strong arms caging you at the waist as his head is buried into your neck as he whispers you a good morning. I also adore the idea of you just going up behind him and hugging him as tightly as you could, not knowing that you couldn’t possibly hurt him physically even if you tried.

Quality time: while unfortunately yes, being Superman is a full time thing. That don’t mean Clark wouldn’t at least attempt in making time just for the both of you and besides you found his deep rooted want to help anyone and everyone extremely endearing and admirable; but sometimes he does need to be reminded that not everyone wants to be saved despite how difficult that maybe for him to understand. But that doesn’t mean he won’t stop trying to help. It’s the one thing no one can change about Clark.

So when you two do get some time together it’s pretty much just spent doing whatever it is that you two like to do together like watch a movie, read books, etc or separate whilst still being within the same room as one another in a comfortable silence. Clark is trying to make up for lost time but it’s the fact that he’s trying is all that matters to you.

Plz hold his face in your hands and squish his cheeks! Plz. He will melt into your hold as he brings his bigger hands up to hold against yours his face as he closes his eyes and visibly relaxes. Precious bean deserves to be pampered with love and affection.

You’d defiantly be stealing his cozy beige/cream coloured jumper. You loved how it made your hulking boyfriend look like the epitome of soft, so of course when he’s away you immediately sift through his things and pull the jumper over your body, where for the rest of the day you would be doing stuff in your shared home whilst in his clothes that were *probably* way too big for you and that you had to face the continuous task of having to push up the sleeves constantly so that they wouldn’t get in the way.

So when Clark comes home and sees you wearing his cozy little jumper, he’s utterly enamoured as though it was the first time he’s seeing you all over again. It’s cute and the soft sappy expression on his face will forever and always melt your heart; his soft blue eyes staring at you adoringly like you were the one to have painted the stars in the sky, the slight blush upon his pinch-able cheeks, and the dopey smile upon his pretty lips.

‘Something catch your eye handsome?’ You’d say one day upon catching him gawking at you from the doorway, taking great pleasure in watching him squirm and stumble over his words as he tries to justify his staring without it coming across as creepy. ‘I wasn’t- I’m sorry-‘ you didn’t let him continue as you walked over to him and moved your arms to hold his face in your hands, your thumbs running across his warm cheeks that only seemed to grow warmer beneath your touch.

‘It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything weird or creepy by it. I’m just teasing you, you know I love it when you look at me because when you look at me…I feel more seen then I ever have with anyone else.’ You admitted to him, pressing your head into his tits chest, ‘so please don’t stop looking at me in that way for it reminds me that this is real and not some fever dream.’

[wexhappyxfew]

crash landings and all

(a/n): to my annie x brady girlies, here is the piece i’ve since promised and since fallen in love with!!! featuring annie, brady, coffee cups and the rising sun + some heartfelt talks about reality. and of course all those emotions annie doesn’t really need but feels instead. enjoy!

It was 0600 and she couldn't sleep.

But this had been happening far too many times in the past few weeks for her to ignore it and call it nerves, or worry, or any other bothersome symptom that would have one of the girls nudging her and asking her if she was okay.

Which she was, alright?

Or she was at least trying to tell herself that.

When there were mornings without missions, that's usually when she would come and sit out, just outside of the mess hall, and stare out towards where the B-17s sat, silhouetted against the purple and pink skyline as the sun began to appear. She'd usually sit there for about an hour, before she started seeing people moving about, and then she'd disappear inside, grab herself a coffee, avoid one of Major Egan's horrible jokes in the morning, and then be on her way to her crew, or to Silver Bullets, or to anything really - to distract herself, get her mind active, get her brain focused on something other than the worry.

This morning was no different - beautiful as the early dawn was, it was also incredibly reflective. She'd sit in the silence, the only noise the breeze in the trees and past her ears, the birds beginning to wake up and sing. It was usually a lot of her convincing herself things were fine and that everything was okay. That she was okay. But usually that didn't last very long and she was off worrying about one of the girls, or that one damn engine on Silver Bullets, or better yet if Lemmons had screwed that one bolt in enough. It kind of ate her alive at the worst of times.

"Hey." Annie looked up and found, stepping down onto the step, and nestling in beside her was Brady, an outstretched hand with a steaming mug of coffee opposite her, and a tired smile on his face.

"Hey," Annie said, trying to hide her surprise and current spiral that she thought was normally drawn across her face, "you're up early. Thanks." She took the coffee and watched as he settled beside her with a sigh, sipping at his own cup of coffee and glanced her way.

"I could say the same about you." he said back, his voice still waking up it seemed from sleep, knocking her shoulder gently. Annie watched him, the first rays of the morning son painting his face a beautiful golden with his eyes and she nodded.

"Couldn't sleep." she told him honestly, "Haven't been sleeping too well anyway, so. What's not to lose with a sunrise, you know?" Brady watched her for a moment, his lanky knees bent up to his chest, the mug resting on his kneecap and his expression quiet.

"Something worrying you?" he asked her, seemingly the first assumption of many on this base - was something worrying her? The sun would shine and she'd be worried, she'd be sat at a table and someone would cough and she'd think she'd have to get the doctor, someone would come in with a headache and she'd assume the worst. So, yeah, maybe there was something wrong, but she wasn't about to spill that to Brady at 0600 in the morning.

"I just worry about the girls, you know how it is. Making sure people are sleeping, eating, feeling okay, not feeling too homesick they're bedridden. That their letters get sent, get read, they get comforted, listened to." Annie said, "Just making sure they're keeping what smiles they can on their faces." Brady caught her gaze as she glanced his way and she found a small smile lingering on her lips.

"It's just what I have to do. Make sure things work like a well-oiled machine." she told him honestly, sipping at the coffee, "I must say, you know how to make a coffee taste good." Brady smirked slightly, a bit of a laugh escaping his mouth, before he looked at her.

"I'm glad you like it," he told her, his voice tender, "but don't try to worry yourself over your crew. They're a good group of ladies flying a B-17. And they've got a great pilot to lead 'em."

"Thanks, John."

"Just make sure you keep an eye on yourself, alright," Brady said, leaning into her side a bit, causing her to glance his way, "you're a part of that crew and just as important." He spoke with a gentle ease of tone, but equally just as serious, like he was coaxing someone to calm down.

"John Brady, you are full of compliments this morning." Annie said quietly, sipping her coffee and peering at him over the edge of coffee cup, just in time to watch his ears flame red a bit and he gulped and smiled at her.

"I don't lie." he told her and Annie grinned and held his gaze for a moment.

"Humor me then," Annie said and a brief moment of reflection passed over Brady's face, "Croz sort of let it out, about those 'mechanical failures' when he mistook France for England…..what was that about…..?" Annie watched him expectantly and Brady's ears flamed a deeper red to the point it spread to his cheeks.

"Supposedly you covered for Croz, real gentlemanly, too, I must admit." Annie said, "Lying to Major Egan of all people, John Brady, I wouldn't suspect such a thing." Brady chuckled at her words and shook his head.

"I was putting it how it was," Brady said, "God, it was embarrassing though. In front of both Buck and Bucky. Land the plane on its belly, Croz vomiting just below, the thing about to blow up but it doesn't, our first introduction to the base. You do what you gotta do for the crew. I was a bit of a shithead to Croz, but to be flying over France -Nazi-occupied France - it wasn't the most pleasant." Annie smiled, watching him as he spoke.

Knowing how he cared how he flew, how he coped. He was so fluent in what he thought and believed, right and truthful. Caring, gentle, but firm and purposeful in his speech.

"The worst was that belly-landing though," Brady said, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee, "that was horrible." Annie watched as Brady seemed to relive it for a moment. She bit back her lip and then reached a hand forward and placed it on the sleeve of his wrist, the touch warm and welcoming and causing their eyes to meet.

"I crashed an AT-6 when I was doing hours for my license." Annie said - she had never dared to tell a soul such a thing, she wanted to take that to the grave, bury it, hide the humiliation. She'd jumped out of it like she was losing her mind, a lunatic sprinting across the base, with her hair ends crispy and black, her blonde hair suffering from the smoldering smoke, looking more monster than woman in that moment. Not her finest, but it had taught her a whole lot of lessons. Brady watched her for a moment, surprised.

"You?" Brady said with a nod, "Crashed not only a plane, but an AT-6? No, I don't believe you." Annie could get his joking tone pretty solid by this point and instead laughed at his words, leaning back to wrap her slightly cold fingertips around the mug and nodded.

"I did in fact crash-land it. Crazed eyes, hair-on-fire and all." Annie said and Brady watched her as if amazed.

"I must admit, it's hard for me to picture that because you're one of the best pilots I've ever met." Brady said and if she were honest, they both looked surprised as that came out of his mouth, but he was quickly talking next and she took a moment to relive those words.

"I mean, you look so calm and collected….what…what happened to warrant that?" he said, leaning a bit closer, evidently interested in the tale that had her losing her mind for weeks after.

"Truth be told, me learning to fly was like telling a fish to live in a tree," Annie said watching as Brady chuckled, "I wasn't always….this." She pointed to her face and Brady smirked.

"Oh c'mon, you're a goddamn good pilot, Annie, really." Brady said, and then smiled, "Go on though." Annie sent him a look with a playful smirk.

"You, asshole." she said and nudged his shoulder, "Don't try to get back at me with that or something in the future."

"Never, my lips are sealed." Brady said, sending her a wink - why would he do that at six am when she's somewhat still fogged with sleep and brain exhaustion.

"Anyway," Annie said, catching his smile again, "all the engines crapped out on me as I was coming in for the landing, the tower was telling me to eject, ejector was jammed, and the wheels were stuck at 45 degrees. So, I did what I could, braced myself and the thing slid across about hundreds of feet of sand before tilting to the side, me pouring out like Ma's soup for dinner. It was so bad, and horrifically embarrassing. God."

"Hey," Brady said, leaning into her peripheral, "'least you can say you know how it's done." Annie let out a laugh at his words then and there, her heart feeling warm for one of the first mornings sat out here; usually alone and now in good company.

"I mean, it wasn't the first time I even crashed landed." Brady offered with a shoulder shrug. Annie stared at him, trying to keep the smile from her lips.

"You're joking."

"Wish I was, Annie," Brady said, "back in training, went down, Croz could tell you all about it. Became pretty well-known among the base and the training groups." He smiled.

"But," he said, "'least I can say I did it." Annie let out a laugh, clasping a hand over her mouth as she glanced at him and watched him chuckle, his eyes glowing in the morning sun that was slowly peaking its way over the horizon line.

"You should join me for mornings like this more often," Annie said quietly, looking out towards the sunlight, "get some things off your chest. It's why I do well….usually alone, but it helps me think. Through things like that." She looked over and met his gaze and smiled. His expressions in the early morning were so much gentler than at dinner, and it almost made her wish he could stay like that forever in some selfish way. All of them, truth be told.

"I think I will," Brady said, "I'm glad you like the coffee. I wasn't sure what you went for, but….you seemed like a cream type of person."

"You either are really good as guessing or someone snitched." Annie said, catching Brady smirking.

"Nah, Bessie was in there the other day getting coffee for you two. I know she drinks straight black and was wondering who the hell she'd be getting a coffee full of creamer for so…." Brady admitted, glancing her way, "I hope you enjoy it." Annie looked to the cup of coffee and took another lingering sip. She wanted to stay like this for a while, freeze time maybe. But that would never be such a thing in their lives.

"We should take a spin together some time," Annie said looking towards him, a smile growing on her lips, "if you ever wanted to be in Silver Bullets when she gets going in the air. You could be my co-pilot." Brady watched her, his face still for a moment, held in a graceful balance of seriousness and surprise and then the corner of his lips ticked upwards.

"I think Francis would drop-kick me from the cockpit." Brady whispered quietly to her and Annie chuckled.

"She'd be fine with it, I swear to you," Annie said, "maybe not anytime soon, as long as we're going up, dropping bombs and all. But maybe when this whole thing ends. And we just get to be. When we get to go home." Looking over, she found Brady already watching her. Home, seemed to echo in her mind the longer she held his gaze.

"Hey! That you Brady?" Annie watched Brady turn away from her face and glance behind her, her own gaze following to find Crank coming towards them, waving an arm, "Buck's been trying to get a-hold of you!" Brady nodded and then looked back at her, a sudden shift in whatever it was that existed between them. He slowly got to his feet, brushed off his pants and then stopped to lean down towards her ear.

"I'd love to be your co-pilot," Brady whispered, sending chills up her neck, "ma'am." Then, he was up and off, sending her cheeks flaming red, her eyes going over her shoulder, as he went and caught up to Crank, shaking his hand and nodding to him, exchanging all the pleasantries. Annie caught his eyes one final time as he glanced back at her. He winked.

[pinazee]

Season 2 final thoughts:

My apologies to my Psych mutuals, my hyperfixation took me on a trip to Hatchetfield and very soon it’ll be in cinderellas castle. It can’t be helped. I plan on finishing my rewatch, especially because I’m about to get into one of my favorite seasons, but it’ll probably be sporadic at best.

Here are my final thoughts on season 2!

This is the official season of lassie stumbling upon shawn and gus by happenstance. He does it in american duos, dis-lodged, black and tan, and im counting lassie standing in front of his pic at the museum. He can push them away as much as he wants but shawns like a boomerang.

I find it incredibly disrespectful that shawn and gus took credit for finding that dinosaur when that one guy literally died for it . Also im pretty sure it would be impossible for a t-rex to be discovered in california because it was all underwater at that time. But thats neither here nor there.

Shawn being a forgery/handwriting expert brings up a funny/depressing image of little shawn having to write lines but in different peoples handwritings

Shawn is an incredibly fast thinker! He saw this scene

And not only deduced what actually happened, but also came up with a cover story for him at the same time.

Word of the day Abulic: abnormal lack of ability to act or to make decisions. Psych writers just casually dropped that little pearl in the middle of a scene in the finale

Overall it was a great season! Juliet got some more scenes, plus her character is beginning to get fleshed out, Gus was even funnier than i remembered, the heartfelt moments were very well acted especially by james who nailed the whole avoidant turmoil of it all. Henry, though, as ive stated in previous posts, is a lot harder to watch as a full fledged adult. He’s just such a prick to shawn any chance he can get. I’m so curious if I’ll be able to forgive him myself down the road. I mean, no wonder Shawn split when he turned 18 and hardly spoke to him again. Man, i wish we could’ve seen Shawn right after he left cause that is one juicy peach. He’d just be all angsty, jumping from one job to the next, getting fired or losing interest (or my personal headcanon is that his gifts of seeing everything kept getting him in some sort of trouble kind of like Poker Face (with natasha lyonne)).

Shawns add’l talents/ random knowledge:

-sketching

-forgery/ handwriting

-can operate a forklift (i think thats what it was lol)

-chess

-tango

-Spanish (honorable mention- he knows enough to speak it passably so i added it) and possibly Portuguese though i bet he just learned the one random phrase to try to trap jann

-acting

-airport codes

Gus niche interests:

-reality tv/ spanish soap operas

-archaeology

-legal tender

-santa barbara models/fashion

Rankings

The Blueberry Tier

American duos

Shawn (and gus) of the dead

Sixty five million years off

Black and tan: a crime of fashion

Nectarina Dulce Tier

Bounty hunters!

Lights, Camera, Homicidio!

Green Apple Jacks t-shirt tier

If you’re so smart then why are you dead

Rob a bye baby

Gus’ dad may have killed an old guy

Theres something about Mira

Did-lodged

And down the stretch comes murder

Psy vs. psy

Genocide of color Tier (somewhere a rainbow is weeping)

The old and the restless

Zero to murder in sixty seconds

Meat is murder…but murder is also murder

[mylifeincinema]

My Week(s) in Reviews: December 17, 2023

I have a Christmas party I have to get ready for, so I'm gonna keep these short.

Godzilla Minus One (Takashi Yamazaki, 2023)

Wow. I really could just leave it at that. I don't think I've seen a Godzilla movie that nails both the human aspect and the monster mayhem quite as deftly as this one. It's an exciting and emotionally rich piece of monster cinema, and very well could be one of the very best films of the year. - 8.5/10

The Holdovers (Alexander Payne, 2023)

Genuinely hilarious and sneakily heartfelt. The tender moments play out so naturally that they pack an emotional wallop, then the brilliant Paul Giamatti or Da'Vine Joy Randolph lets out a perfectly delivered line that'll absolutely floor you. And I just love the look of it, every single piece of this film looks and feels like it's straight out of the '70s. So good. This might be my favorite Payne? - 9/10

May December (Todd Haynes, 2023)

The three stellar central performances drive this weird film about the line between fact and fiction, about the areas of grey in the fact that are stranger than fiction. Portman nails the impossible to read actress, Melton wows with his stunted victim-turned-father-turned-husband, and Moore is sneakily fantastic as the woman who has them both wrapped around her manipulatively disturbed finger. Haynes nails the tone, here. - 8/10

Eileen (William Oldroyd, 2023)

Thomasin McKenzie is wonderful, embodies the titular Eileen wholly, making every movement and decision feel completely organic. She's the reason the beats of the final scenes work despite the underwritten screenplay. Anne Hathaway is absolutely fascinating, here, just magnetic and dangerous and one step ahead of all of us. I wanted more of her, so bad. It's also a great looking film. Oldroyd fills these scenes so effectively, keeping us on our toes along the way. But still, something was missing. I blame that underwritten screenplay. Some authors shouldn't adapt themselves. - 7.5/10

The Equalizer 3 (Antoine Fuqua, 2023)

It's okay. When Denzel kicks as, he kicks ass. But there's not a lot going on, here, and what is here feels incredibly anti-climactic. Everything that happens in this movie kinda just happens. Whatever. - 4/10

Blue Beetle (Angel Manuel Soto, 2023)

I remember exactly 1% of this movie. Well, fine, 1% in addition to whatever percentage George Lopez's character adds up to, because holy shit that was an awful, annoying, unnecessarily over-the-top 'performance'. Yikes. - 2/10

Le Mans (Lee H. Katzin, 1971)

Some egos shouldn't be stroked without question, and McQueen's was clearly a major one. This whole movie was just an attempt to get him to race Le Mans. I thought I'd seen this movie, but I think I only ever actually saw the doc about the making of this movie. The racing footage is great, but everything else is either a total mess or a total bore. Except the music... that's pretty great, too. - 4/10

Enjoy!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

[kedsandtubesocks]

SEL HI IF YOU SEE ME READING THIS NO YOU DONT EHXYEVYZJSOSLSS

So now that I’m fully back in a haikyuu rewatch I cannot CONFIRM NOR DENY that I’ve been in an atsumu mood

And then finding out you wrote a fic for him and it would be my first one to officially read for him??? This feels so incredibly special oh my goodness

First off the way you immediately set up the dynamic and let us sink into the relationship was done with such heart! Like I didn’t feel lost or disconnected and if anything it made me a bit feral at how effortlessly you gave us so much then PUT US THROUGH THE HEARTACHE!!

LIKE SEL!!! I KNEW IT WAS COMING BUT IT STILL MADE MY HEART GET AN OUCHIE!! But the way you navigated the confusion and heartache tugged at my poor ljttle heart 😭

Also omg omg I forgot to mention my favorite little passage?!

He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 

How you let us as the audience feel the connection through Osamu and mama Miya’s love with us made me melt…it created so much depth and emotion and beautiful history that layered within not just our relationship with Tsumu but also highlighted the heartache! We have all this history and love and it HURTS knowing we’re so disappointed now! Incredibly executed honey!!! 💘

And oh my god him and Osamu’s interactions? Their dynamic was so fun and silly, such true sibling interaction lol, but i loved the true depth between them you gave to us!! And the tone of voice, so wonderfully distinct, I could hear it so clearly!

This voice you set for them honestly is what I had hoped for in the series when I heard their dubbed voices for the first time and was a bit let down so to me THIS IS CANON NOW 😤

But Sel…

Sel the true moment this broke me is Atsumu being a lovesick crybaby.

Babes…

My dearest Sel.

YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME

YOU CANT MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH ANOTHER SAD PATHETIC WET LITTLE MEOW MEOW! A WET NAPKIN OF A MAN!!! YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME!!!!

(But wow it was so tender and warm and heartfelt and I can’t believe I’m such a messy puddle of emotions now because of this)

Thank you…so much for sharing this beautiful adventure and for making me reevaluate my entire life oh my god 🫠

₊˚⊹｡ i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu

wc: 2.4k

summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 

contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 

a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 

Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 

Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?

Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 

This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 

So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—

—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 

“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand. 

Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this. 

He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret. 

“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.” 

This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up. 

The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown. 

There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit. 

And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now. 

“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”

When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.

And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 

He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you. 

His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway. 

Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days. 

Other than that, home has always been your place. 

And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space. 

The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you. 

It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever. 

The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.

Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him. 

Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him. 

Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up. 

.

“Samu, I think am g’na die.” 

The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better. 

Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background. 

“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?” 

Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack. 

His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode. 

All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you. 

“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.” 

Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.

But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient). 

“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.” 

Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time. 

.

His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease. 

He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger). 

And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time. 

. 

He’s never been this nervous in his life. 

The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to. 

What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.

So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes. 

You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life. 

“Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.

“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.

His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’. 

“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.” 

You nod, tilting your head to urge him on. 

“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks like dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepen. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug. 

This is why Atsumu loves you—

This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants. 

—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up. 

“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.” 

He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort. 

You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain. 

After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie. 

You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers. 

“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous. 

You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly. 

“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”

The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever. 

He feels like crying again. 

“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.” 

Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again. 

But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?” 

You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?” 

You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger. 

“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[jranimator]

The Emotional Power of Music in Daily Life

Music has the extraordinary ability to tap into our emotions, creating a connection that transcends words and speaks directly to our hearts. Whether it’s the soothing melody of a piano piece or the electrifying beats of a dance track, music serves as a universal language that influences our mood, enhances our memories, and helps us express ourselves in ways we might otherwise find difficult. This article explores the profound emotional impact of music in daily life and delves into how it shapes and enriches our experiences.

The Calming Effects of Smooth Music

Life can often feel overwhelming, with endless responsibilities and stresses taking their toll on our emotional well-being. In such moments, turning to smooth music can be a balm for the soul. Smooth music, with its gentle rhythms and mellow tones, creates a serene environment that encourages relaxation and mindfulness. Studies have shown that listening to calming tunes can lower heart rates, reduce stress, and improve focus.

Imagine coming home after a long day and playing a playlist filled with smooth tracks. The melodies gently wash over you, easing tension and helping you transition from a busy day to a peaceful evening. Smooth music can also be a perfect companion for activities like yoga, meditation, or even reading, as it fosters a sense of inner calm and clarity.

Expressing Emotions Through Lyrics

Lyrics hold a special place in the realm of music. They have the power to tell stories, evoke emotions, and connect deeply with listeners. For many, lyrics become a mirror reflecting their own thoughts and feelings, providing solace and understanding. Learning to put lyrics together can be an incredibly cathartic process, allowing individuals to articulate emotions that might otherwise remain bottled up.

For instance, writing about heartbreak or joy through lyrics can serve as a creative outlet for processing emotions. Similarly, listening to songs with powerful, relatable lyrics can help us feel less alone in our struggles. This unique interplay between words and melodies enables music to resonate deeply, bridging the gap between artist and audience.

Mastering Music Online for Free

The advent of digital platforms has revolutionized how we engage with music. Today, aspiring musicians and enthusiasts can learn, create, and refine their craft without the burden of financial constraints. Platforms offering resources to master music online for free make it possible for anyone with an internet connection to explore their passion.

Whether you’re learning to play an instrument, mixing tracks, or perfecting your vocal skills, these platforms provide valuable tools and tutorials. Engaging in the process of creating music can be a deeply emotional experience, fostering a sense of achievement and self-expression. By mastering the technical aspects, musicians can bring their creative visions to life and share them with the world.

The Visual Magic of Music Videos

While music itself is a powerful medium, adding a visual element can elevate the emotional impact even further. The coolest music video ever isn’t just about flashy visuals—it’s about storytelling and connecting with viewers on a visceral level. Music videos have the ability to bring songs to life, providing a new layer of meaning and engagement.

For example, a song about love might be accompanied by a video depicting a tender romance, amplifying the emotional depth of the lyrics. On the other hand, abstract or artistic videos can evoke curiosity and inspire viewers to interpret the visuals in their own way. This fusion of sound and sight creates a holistic sensory experience that stays with us long after the music stops.

Emotional Themes in Bruno Mars’ Latest Songs

One artist who consistently demonstrates the emotional power of music is Bruno Mars. Known for his soulful voice, catchy melodies, and heartfelt lyrics, Bruno’s music strikes a chord with listeners worldwide. His recent releases, highlighted in Bruno Mars' latest songs, showcase his ability to explore themes of love, nostalgia, and celebration.

For instance, a romantic ballad might evoke feelings of longing or warmth, while an upbeat track can instantly lift your spirits and get you moving. Bruno Mars has a knack for blending genres and styles, ensuring that his music resonates with diverse audiences. Whether you’re experiencing joy or heartache, there’s a Bruno Mars song to match your mood.

The Role of Music in Memory and Nostalgia

Music has a unique way of embedding itself into our memories. A certain song can transport you back to a specific moment in time, evoking vivid recollections of people, places, and emotions. This connection between music and memory is why so many of us have “soundtracks” to our lives.

For instance, the song you listened to on repeat during a summer road trip might bring back memories of carefree adventures whenever you hear it again. Similarly, songs played at weddings or celebrations often hold sentimental value, reminding us of happy times with loved ones. By tapping into these memories, music strengthens our emotional ties to the past and reinforces our sense of identity.

Music as a Tool for Emotional Healing

For many, music serves as a form of therapy, helping them navigate difficult emotions and find solace in challenging times. Listening to a song that perfectly encapsulates your feelings can provide a sense of validation and comfort. Similarly, creating music—whether through writing lyrics, composing melodies, or singing—can be a powerful way to process emotions and heal.

Smooth music, for instance, can help alleviate feelings of anxiety or restlessness, while more upbeat tracks can lift your mood and energize you. Engaging with music in any form allows you to channel your emotions constructively, turning pain into art or joy into celebration.

Conclusion

Music is an integral part of our emotional lives, offering comfort, inspiration, and connection. From the calming effects of smooth music to the visual storytelling in the coolest music video ever, it shapes how we experience and express our emotions. Whether you’re writing lyrics, learning to master music online for free, or enjoying the soulful melodies of Bruno Mars' latest songs, music has the power to touch your heart and enrich your daily life.

What songs resonate with you the most? Share your favorites in the comments below and let’s celebrate the emotional power of music together.

[goodmorningwishesforher]

Beautiful Good Morning Wishes to Show Her You Care

Introduction

A good morning wish is more than just a routine greeting; it's a heartfelt gesture that can brighten someone’s day and remind them of your affection. When it comes to expressing your feelings to someone special, crafting a beautiful and meaningful good morning message can be a perfect way to show her how much you care. These messages not only convey your love but also set a positive tone for her day. Here are some beautiful good morning wishes designed to make her feel cherished and appreciated and for more visit good morning wishes.

1. The Romantic Affirmation

"Good morning, my love. Waking up with thoughts of you makes every morning feel like a fresh start. Your presence in my life is a blessing, and I can’t wait to see you today. May your day be filled with as much joy and love as you bring into my life."

2. The Appreciative Note

"Good morning, beautiful. I just wanted to remind you how much you mean to me. Your kindness, strength, and grace inspire me every day. I hope your morning is as wonderful as you are and that your day unfolds with everything you wish for."

3. The Poetic Touch

"Good morning, my dear. As the sun rises and bathes the world in golden light, I think of you and how your presence lights up my life. May your day be as radiant as the morning sun and filled with love and happiness."

4. The Heartfelt Compliment

"Good morning, gorgeous. Just a note to tell you how amazing you are and how lucky I feel to have you in my life. Your smile, your laughter, and your love make every day brighter. Wishing you a day that’s as lovely and special as you are."

5. The Inspiring Message

"Good morning! Every day with you is a new adventure, and I am grateful for each moment we share. Remember, no matter what the day brings, you have the strength and beauty to handle it all. I believe in you and am always here for you."

6. The Tender Reminder

"Good morning, sweetheart. I hope you know how much you are loved and appreciated. Your smile and warmth make every day better, and I’m so thankful for you. May your morning be peaceful and your day filled with joy."

7. The Serene Wish

"Good morning, love. As you start your day, I hope it’s filled with peace and serenity. Remember that you are cherished and adored, and that thought will carry you through any challenges today. Have a beautiful day."

8. The Motivational Boost

"Good morning, my angel. Today is a new opportunity to shine, and I know you’ll make the most of it. Your strength and determination are truly inspiring. Start your day with confidence, knowing that I’m cheering you on every step of the way."

9. The Dreamy Sentiment

"Good morning, my heart. I woke up this morning feeling incredibly grateful for you and the love we share. As you step into your day, may you be surrounded by the same warmth and joy that you bring into my life."

10. The Joyful Greeting

"Good morning, sunshine! Your presence is like the first rays of sunlight, bringing warmth and happiness to everything it touches. I hope your day is filled with bright moments and everything that makes you smile."

11. The Gentle Whisper

"Good morning, darling. I wanted to start your day with a gentle reminder of how much you mean to me. Your kindness, your laughter, and your love make every day better. May your morning be as wonderful as you are."

12. The Caring Message

"Good morning! As you wake up and start your day, know that my thoughts are with you. I hope you find joy in every moment and that your day is filled with love and positivity. Remember, you’re always in my heart."

13. The Sweet Note

"Good morning, beautiful. I hope your day is filled with all the things that make you happy. You deserve all the love and joy in the world, and I am here to support you every step of the way."

14. The Loving Reflection

"Good morning, my love. As I think about you and the wonderful person you are, I am filled with gratitude and affection. I hope your day is as incredible as you are, and that you feel as loved as you make me feel."

15. The Cherished Moment

"Good morning! Each day with you is a treasure, and I am so grateful for the moments we share. May your morning be as bright and beautiful as your smile, and may your day be filled with all the happiness you bring into my life."

Conclusion

A beautiful good morning wish is a powerful way to show her how much you care and to start her day on a positive note. These messages not only convey your affection but also remind her of the special place she holds in your life. By choosing words that are heartfelt and sincere, you can make each morning a little brighter and more meaningful. Remember, the most impactful messages come from the heart, so let your genuine feelings guide your words. With these beautiful wishes, you’ll surely make her feel loved and cherished every day.

[influencermagazineuk]

Comedian Rob Delaney Hopes to Return to Home Where Son Lived and Died

In a touching interview, comedian Rob Delaney shared a heartfelt desire to reconnect with a place that holds immense significance for him - the former London home where his son Henry spent his short life. Henry, tragically, succumbed to brain cancer at the tender age of two in 2018. Delaney revealed his wish to purchase the house, driven by a deep longing to spend his final moments in the same living room where he said goodbye to his son. The room carries an additional layer of poignancy, as it also witnessed the birth of Delaney's fourth son later that same year. Greg2600, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons Speaking on BBC Radio 4's Desert Island Discs, Delaney recounted, "We don't live there anymore, but when we moved out, I made a request to the landlord. I told them, 'If you ever decide to sell, please let me know first. I'd love to buy it back.' My dream is to be 81 and crawl back into that room, the same one where Henry passed away and my other son entered the world." The interview offered a glimpse into the profound impact Henry's illness and passing had on Delaney. Despite the immense pain, he recounted Henry's final months with a touch of solace. "He did have a peaceful passing," Delaney shared. "We knew for four and a half months that he wouldn't make it. During that time, his brothers showered him with love. They were all incredibly close." He continued, describing the remarkable strength displayed by his older sons: "I witnessed a four-year-old and a six-year-old holding their brother after he was gone. They took incredible care of him, learning complex things to ensure his comfort during that difficult time." Delaney's voice reflected the enduring pain of loss when he spoke about missing the simple moments of caring for his son. He also acknowledged the constant presence of Henry in their lives, "The thought of them growing up without him is unbearable. But they talk about him all the time, with love and smiles. They cherish his pictures, and he remains a vital part of our family." The interview shed light on another reason why Delaney feels such a strong connection to London. "There are many reasons why we haven't left London," he explained. "One of them is the need to visit the playground slide Henry loved playing on. I also find comfort in occasionally bumping into the nurses who provided him with such exceptional care. London holds a special place in my heart, and it's the city that took such good care of my son." Read the full article

[enchantedquill-40]

Title: The Heartfelt Discovery: Sokka's Sister's Realization

Sokka's sister, Katara, had always admired her brother's bravery, wit, and leadership. However, it wasn't until recently that she began to see another side of him – a side that revealed his caring and nurturing nature, particularly towards Momo, the lemur, and his interactions with Zuko and their companions.

As their journey with Aang continued, Katara couldn't help but notice Sokka's tenderness towards Momo. Whenever the lemur was around, Sokka's demeanor softened. He would playfully tease Momo, offering him bits of food and creating makeshift toys for his entertainment. Seeing Sokka's playful side emerge in these moments warmed Katara's heart, reminding her of the brotherly love that existed beneath his tough exterior.

It wasn't just Momo that brought out Sokka's caring nature; his interactions with Zuko also revealed his compassionate side. Despite their rocky start, Sokka had developed a strong bond with Zuko, built on mutual respect and understanding. Katara observed how Sokka would offer guidance and support to Zuko, helping him navigate the complexities of their journey and offering a friendly ear whenever Zuko needed to talk.

But it wasn't just Momo and Zuko that benefited from Sokka's kindness. Katara noticed how Sokka looked out for each member of their group, whether it was Aang, Toph, or even Appa. He was always there to lend a hand, offer words of encouragement, or simply share a joke to lighten the mood during difficult times.

As their travels continued, Katara found herself admiring her brother more and more. She realized that beneath Sokka's tough exterior lay a heart of gold – a heart that was always ready to care for those around him. She began to see him not just as her brother, but as a role model, someone to look up to and emulate.

One day, as they made camp for the night, Katara decided to approach Sokka about her observations. Sitting beside him, she began, "Sokka, I've been noticing how great you are with Momo, Zuko, and everyone else. You have this incredible ability to make everyone feel valued and cared for."

Sokka, looking slightly surprised by her words, replied, "Really? I never thought about it that way. I guess I just try to do my best to look out for everyone."

"You do more than just look out for us, Sokka," Katara insisted. "You go out of your way to make sure we're all okay, emotionally as well as physically. It's something I truly admire about you."

Sokka smiled warmly at his sister, feeling a swell of pride at her words. "Thanks, Katara. That means a lot coming from you."

Their conversation continued late into the night as they shared stories and laughter, deepening their bond as siblings. And as they drifted off to sleep, Katara couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to witness her brother's heartfelt evolution – a transformation that had only strengthened her love and admiration for him.