#in which meg writes fics

[zukkaoru]

⛈️ meet me in the pouring rain ⛈️

Jin stares at Azula with wide eyes. Apparently this is enough to coax an explanation from her, because she scoffs and crosses her arms, looking away before telling Jin, “We made plans for tonight, did we not? I wanted to be sure a little rain wouldn’t stop you from following through.” Jin sighs. “Azula…no one’s going to be out there tonight. It’s been pouring for hours, and it’s not safe with the storm. And even if it does let up, everything will be wet—the lanterns won’t even light! …Assuming the water hasn’t already ruined them entirely.” She nudges a wet clump of hair out of Azula’s eyes. “Let me get you a towel and a change of clothes, and then we can—” “No,” Azula interrupts. Jin hesitates. “…No?” “No. We’re going out.”

when bad weather gets in the way of jin's plans, azula shows her that they can have a fun night together regardless

⛈️ 2.1k words || jinzula ⛈️ partially inspired by this art by @aromanticmara, an anonymous ask prompt, and vee (happy late birthday)

[umbracirrus]

WIP Whenever 💛

I was thinking that I would most likely have a WIP out on Sunday because I wasn't mentally in the place to do anything on Wednesday and I'm busy tomorrow... But I've been able to get something pulled together!

My beloved idiots Balgruuf and Elyse are finally talking after their argument! But don't worry, there's some ✨drama✨ too hehe :)

I said that I wasn't gonna post The Perfect Storm WIPs for a while but oops. My hand slipped.

Thanks for the tags @pitiable-arisen and @bostoniangirl21!!

-------

The cold air actually felt nice against Elyse's skin for once as she stepped through the doors onto the balcony, and found herself surprised when she realised that laid out before her was the entirety of the city of Whiterun, almost like a tapestry spread across the ground below. Her feet carried her forward towards the wooden railings, and snow crunched beneath her gloved fingers as she took hold of it and gazed below.

"This is one of the few quiet places in Dragonsreach where people will not disturb me… usually because I do not allow anyone out here," Balgruuf stated from where he remained by the doors. "It is peaceful."

Her eyes fell shut as she exhaled quietly. "I can see why…" She then lowered her head, and released her hold of the railing so that she could turn back to face him. "Balgruuf, I-" Her voice caught as she began to feel tears building up in the corners of her eyes, her hands shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for causing all of this trouble-!"

"What? Elyse, why are you-?" She never noticed that he had closed the distance between them until he had taken hold of the top of her arms, his breathing shaking and voice almost wavering as he spoke. "No… No, none of this is your fault," he whispered, one of his hands moving to wipe away some of the tears falling down her face as she quietly wept. "I overstepped, that has been made abundantly clear to me whilst you were gone. You had every right to get angry at me. Please… don't cry, you did nothing wrong."

Slowly, she moved closer to him, and it didn't take long for her head to be resting against him as his arms wrapped around her. His heart ached for her – after what he had done, and her belief that she had to apologise when he knew that it was he who needed to do so… It would take more than words to compensate. He had hurt her badly. Perhaps things would never return to how they were… but perhaps it was an opportunity to learn from his own idiocy and rebuild their relationship – dare he say friendship? – stronger than before.

"I am the one who should be saying that they are sorry," he whispered, taking a deep breath and a step back. "I know that it will not change anything now, and is long overdue… but may I explain why I did what I did? I am in no way justifying what I did… but I want you to know that none of this – absolutely none – is your fault."

Wiping away some of the tears which were still slowly slipping down her face, she gave him a slight nod. "That… That's why I came here. I wanted to know… wanted to know why you paid off that fine. I left it be because I knew… because… Ulfric was the one who instigated it. He grabbed my arm! Was I not meant to fight back against somebody who tried to keep me as a prisoner?" Her tone of voice grew louder and more panicked as she spoke, before taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. "I was told that you likely only paid it off to help, but if I wanted to know for sure about why, I needed to talk to you… That it would give me peace of mind."

Balgruuf glanced back towards the doors leading out onto the balcony, and pursed his lips together. "I believe that you had best sit down for what I need to tell you then. We could return indoors, or I can bring some seats outside… it's your choice."

"… I wouldn't mind staying out for a while longer. Maybe if it gets any colder we can go indoors, but for now…"

He nodded at her response, then went over to the doors and quickly slipped inside. She remembered that there had been a long table surrounded by chairs just by the door, so it wouldn't take long for him to return. When he did though, she had to go to hold the door open for him as he pulled the two seats outside.

When they eventually sat down, the wind thankfully remaining little more than a gentle breeze, she couldn't help but notice the conflict across his face as he looked towards the floor with his arms folded over. But he soon began to speak. "In his usual correspondence with me, Ulfric began accusing Whiterun of harbouring a criminal, and he made it clear that he was talking about you," he stated, his fists starting to clench. "He made an ultimatum - pay off the fine, or Whiterun gets attacked."

Her blood ran cold – colder than the snow and ice and wind which surrounded them on that balcony. "B-But I'm not…"

"I know."

[no1ryomafan]

I do not bother to check if Getter and Big O ever interacted in SRW because I’m so use to the other mechas I like being in the same game as getter but being so different that they never have any story reasons to have interactions since Getter is only ever allowed to interact with mazinger, OG gundam and any other combiners + it’s all in untranslated hell so I won’t even know wtf was said if there WERE interactions but god damn it I keep rotating a scenario where Roger negotiates to get Ryoma out of jail even though I know for a fact that DIDNT happen despite how many times they used arma and how Z2 actually adapted it fucking correctly for once but it’s just so funny to imagine.

[feyhunter78]

Moonflowers (6/16)

Description: Jacaerys reflects on his love for Helaena

Jacaerys had been in love with Helaena for as long as he could remember, his first memory of her was when she was ten, and he was nine. She was dressed in a poofy pink gown, and her sliver blonde hair was piled atop her head with threads of silk woven throughout, he thought she looked like a beautifully made pastry. High praise in the mind of a nine-year-old boy. He mentioned this to Aegon who at ten and three told him that was “the most foolish thing he’d ever heard.”

So Jacaerys instead approached her and told her she looked beautiful. Her pale cheeks had flushed to match the color of her gown, and he thought it made her look even prettier.

He'd been glad to be absent from her wedding, he had been friends with Aegon when they were children, but the boy had grown cold and cruel. Jacaerys didn’t want to see the lovely, sweet girl he’d grown to adore married off to her drunk of a brother, so he didn’t protest when his mother announced they wouldn’t be attending.

He did do some drinking of his own that night, a small part of his mind telling him it was something he’d have in common with the man who got to marry his beautiful Helaena. In his dreams it was him, she was dressed in white, him in their house colors, and they danced, smiling, and laughing with each other until he woke up with the knowledge that he would never be in Aegon’s place. If only Queen Alicent hadn’t rejected his mother’s proposal, if only she’d put away her pride and realized Aegon would do nothing but hurt Helaena. Aegon was a drunkard and a lecher, while Helaena was a kind and innocent flower, trampled underneath his foot.

When his mother told them they were returning to King’s Landing he was overjoyed, he smiled the entire flight and kept smiling even when Aegon and Aemond treated him as no more than a beetle under their boot. That didn’t bother him, Helaena loved beetles, he’d brought her as many as he could find on Dragonstone, treasuring the smile she gave him when he gifted them to her.

Jacaerys found her in the dragonpit after the tourney, his heart sank when he saw she’d disappeared from the stands, but Alyra had tipped him off to Helaena’s favorite hiding spots long ago. It took all he had not to beg her to leave with him, to run far away and leave their family’s petty squabbles behind, but she had children, and he would never ask her to abandon them. Instead, he gave her the bracelet he’d been working on for moons and offered himself to her if she ever desired him. He’d rested his head against Vermax and prayed to the gods he hadn’t made a complete and utter fool of himself.

According to Alyra, Helaena was unhappy in her marriage, something anyone could see, but she pushed further.

“Jace, if someone would rid this world of Aegon, she could be free, I know she would be happier if he was no longer plaguing her.” She said, laying on one of the chaise lounges in his mother’s chambers.

He laughed, “I believe the babe is making you murderous, Alyra.” But that same part of his mind from long ago held tight to her words.

Almost as tight as he wanted to hold Helaena as he carried her to her chambers. She was warm in his arms, and he wished he could carry her forever if that’s what it took to keep her near him. He’d sent Alyra away and treasured the short conversation he had with his wilting flower, even more he treasured the kiss he was able to place on her delicate hand before he left her chambers.

It was good for him that Helaena and Alyra were so close. It allowed him to learn things about Helaena and when they put their heads together, he and Alyra were excellent at scheming up ways to get him closer to Helaena. Alyra being pregnant ended up giving them ample opportunity for Jacaerys to look better than Aegon. Jacaerys sent over his mother’s favorite soup giving Alyra a chance to praise his kindness, and right before Aemond brought out Lord Ryn’s severed head, Alyra warned him, giving him enough time to be the first to Helaena’s side.

It was heaven holding her in his arms like that, the way she buried her face in his tunic had his heart beating so hard, he was sure she could feel it. She smelled of roses, and he wished he could bottle her scent. His mind wandered, and he could imagine waking up with her in his arms, smelling the scent of roses each morning. He couldn’t stop himself from voicing his thoughts out loud, his desire for her to be by his side, where she rightfully belonged.

Jacaerys was barely listening to Aegon and Alyra’s speeches, he knew both of them tended to speak without thinking, and that Aegon knew the easiest way to provoke Alyra was to insult Aemond and vice versa. He did listen when Helaena stood. She looked so radiant in her soft colored gown, her hair falling in waves, her voice was dreamy and lilting, but her words were not what he wished to hear. He frowned, unsure of why she wished to defend her coward of a husband.

Alyra pulled Helaena into a dance, and he watched them for a while, he assumed Alyra had the same questions he did, and he let them dance and talk knowing he could pry bits of information from Alyra later on.

 Then he saw Alyra’s face fall, and he stood making his way towards the pair, cutting in on their dance. Helaena was a wonderful dancer, everything she did she was wonderful at. When she thanked him so sweetly, he nearly lost his step, but instead offered his protection. She again brought up Aegon, and he offered himself once more, wanting to beg her to take him up on his offer. To let him love and protect her.

He could see the longing in her eyes, feel the way she leaned into his touch, and he took it a step further, falling back on Alyra’s words. He would kill Aegon for her, he would kill her entire family if that’s what she desired, they could call him a kinslayer, but if Helaena was happy, he would take on any title. When she spun away from him, he met Alyra’s eyes and nodded. She bit her lip to hide a devious smile, then Helaena was back in his arms, asking when he would kill her husband. His heart soared; he’d feared he was dreaming up her affection, but here she was asking him to kill her husband so that they could be together.

Alyra caught him on his way to the nursery, her eyes wide. “She asked you to kill him?”

“She asked when it would be done.” He responded back in Denouan. He hadn’t lied to Helaena, learning Alyra’s mother tongue had given him quite the advantage.

“Jace, you should confirm that it was not a question born of lingering fear from Aemond’s gift, you do not want to drive her away in your attempts to win her.” Alyra cautioned; her voice soft as she glanced around making sure no one would intrude on their conversation.

“I will give you her answer on the morrow.” He reassured her, tweaking a strand of her hair. “All will be well, sister, return to your husband.” He slipped back into the common tongue and Alyra nodded, bowing her head, and quickly returning to her own chambers.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96

[ziracona]

I know I say this every time I read my own work, but Speak for the Dead really is the best chapter in ILM.

“Well, you know for the first time in a long time this actually feels like fall?”

Jane Romero was smiling at him, sitting propped up against a tree in what had sort of become her usual ‘therapy’ corner in the past almost two weeks. And she was right, it did feel like fall. The air wasn’t as sharply cold as normal, and honestly ‘sharply’ cold was a nice break in and of itself when it happened—usually the weather here was somehow just cold—cold with no adjectives attached. But today it was nicer. It was the kind of waiting fall cold that came when it wasn’t biting outside yet, and it was almost pleasant. A promise of a change in the seasons. Tapp wondered why.

The trees hadn’t started to change color with it, or fall in piles, and as far as he’d gathered there weren’t seasons in here. Everything looked the same. Tall, thick woods, undergrowth and moss and rocks and fallen logs, a slight breeze on and off. Dark sky overhead, full moon, at this point long since throwing off everyone’s idea of what day and night were supposed to mean. All the usual. Except, somehow, the kind of cold in the weather. Who knew, maybe nothing had changed. Maybe they had just started to feel better.

LIKE. Those opening lines mean nothing but environmental flavor when you read them. But they’re a lead in for the thesis of the entire chapter.

“Well, you know for the first time in a long time this actually feels like fall?” - A promise of a change in the seasons. - Who knew, maybe nothing had changed. Maybe they had just started to feel better.

Like that’s it. Speak for the Dead is about a lot of things, but at its heart it’s about healing. It’s about forgiveness and healing, that exists between the living and the dead. It’s about how you can only speak for them, by speaking for them. Not how you want to punish yourself or live for them, but by how you know they would forgive you, or would ask you to live. Very little other than exchanges of information happen, but so much happens at the same time. All of it significant. It’s hope. It’s about how Tapp (and Meg) have spent every day here fighting in their own way to cope with the agony and failure of their lives, and the loss of people they couldn’t save, and have only dug their wounds deeper. About love. About nothing stoping the lambs from screaming except accepting that they want to let you go.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i am struggling to write like 500 words of fic lmao my brain is so fucked by this kink-whumptober thing. but i persevere. three more fics.

[essektheylyss]

Hey, would you be cool with other people writing fics in the specific universe of tief? With Fortune Lavorre?

Hello! I just realized I had half-typed up an answer to this and completely forgot to finish it, so apologies that this is deeply, deeply overdue!

I am absolutely cool with it, with a few caveats but only of the disclaimer sort. (And that's not even to say that they're necessarily things that pertain to you, but I figured if I was commenting now I should just lay my thoughts out there, in case anyone else goes looking.)

I'm personally of the mind that transformative works of a transformative work are just as fine as the original transformative work itself, though I know that not everyone agrees. I'm not going to begrudge anyone their own personal rights for how their writing is used, but I have always felt that it would be hypocritical of me to consider it in any other way. (I'll spare you my deconstructive essay on the nature of transformative works in modern culture or I'll take another month to answer lol.)

That being said, the disclaimers! First, I will probably write more in that universe, and as such I will... probably not read other folks' dabblings in it. Not because I would be uninterested, but because I do take the author-ly point of view in that I want your works to be yours, and mine to be mine, so I don't want to find that I've inadvertently snatched up a plot from someone else without realizing. And in a similar vein, attribution of what you're riffing off of would be nice, but at the very least please don't, I don't know, claim that I've totally vetted it and it's definitely fully canon to the original work, or something of the sort. Both because of the aforementioned, I will write further things and I don't want to garner any confusion, your works are yours and mine are mine, and also because if anyone for any reason wanted to come complain to me about a fic, I'd much prefer it was indeed my fic.

(Like I said, I don't presume you need any of that noted in particular—just figured I should note it, since in general I am pretty laissez-faire when it comes to transformative works as a whole haha.)

[seraphdreams]

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him “megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡

megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.

and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.

for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.

“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,

bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.

he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.

with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.

he could never interfere with your comfort.

after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.

“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.

“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.

matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.

in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.

megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”

you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”

a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”

you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”

clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.

he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”

you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”

yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.

the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.

“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.

you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”

“let’s fuck, then.”

his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.

in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.

megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.

“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.

this might be his best birthday yet.

he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.

lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.

“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.

his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?

he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.

underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.

“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.

“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.

“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.

while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.

“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.

white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.

after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.

he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.

“you’re the best birthday present.”

[doveypink]

unexpected surprise [satoru gojo]

summary: satoru seeks your help in raising a child. word count: 0.7k warnings: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff/crack, dad!gojo (to megs and tsumiki). a/n: it’s my birthday! as per tradition, i like to write something for myself (as if i don’t always…). i have a longer gojo fic in the works, so take this until then!

“So what do you think?”

Satoru grins at you, his pearly white teeth blinding your eyes.

“It’s… something,” you reply, unsure of how to translate the thoughts running through your mind.

You sense Gojo’s impatience, giving him a lopsided smile when his eyes narrow. You poke his cheek—right in the dimple, which makes him smile wider—and you sigh.

“It’s a lot of responsibility to raise a kid,” you say firmly.

“I know,” he says with confidence. “Do you think I’m not responsible?”

“You have to be serious about this,” you assert, carefully stepping around his prior question. “This isn’t a joke. You can’t use your powers to save you if you fuck up. This is a little human we’re talking about.”

“I know,” he insists, whining a bit. “Come on, I wouldn’t ask you for help if I didn’t think we could do this.”

You tap your foot a few times, considering your boyfriend’s suggestion for a moment. Then, softly: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod.

“Okay!” Satoru repeats with a cheer, scooping you up in his arms. You groan, but you can’t help smiling a bit. He sets you down and puts his hands on his hips. “Well, I hope you’re ready to meet him.”

Your boyfriend turns around, walking to the door of his apartment. You freeze, staring at the man with wide eyes. “Wait, what—?”

“Surprise!”

Gojo interrupts you to swing the door open. Standing outside the apartment is a little boy, no older than six years old. His scowl is partially obscured by the mess of dark hair on his head. You stare at the boy, mouth agape, while your boyfriend beams at you.

“Ta-da! Introducing… Megumi Fushiguro!” Satoru waves his arms around dramatically, presenting the child to you in the manner that a game show host announces that a player has won a new car.

Your eye twitches in irritation at Gojo, but you push it aside for the time being. You kneel down to Megumi’s height, holding out your hand and telling him your name. The boy reluctantly shakes your hand before dropping it back at his side. He seems deeply disinterested in the situation.

With a gulp, you ask, “Hey, so… How long have you been standing out here?”

“What time is it?”

You glance at your watch. “15:47.”

The boy pauses. “Two hours.”

A gasp escapes your mouth. This time, you can’t help the glare you point at Gojo. “Satoru, what is your problem?” You hiss.

“What? What did I do?” Your boyfriend asks cluelessly.

You continue to glare at him as you usher the small boy inside to sit on the couch. “Are you hungry? I’ll get you a snack,” you say quickly. Rushing to the fridge, you find a cup of applesauce and hand it to Megumi. He takes it wordlessly, tearing the lid off the container and helping himself.

Next to you, Gojo pouts. “But that’s my applesauce…”

A slow turn of your head shuts him up. You drag your boyfriend into his bedroom, hissing at the man. “You’re doing a terrible job of convincing me that you can be that boy’s legal guardian.”

“We are his guardians. This is a joint operation,” Gojo corrects you.

“I literally just agreed to this!” You shriek.

“Well… I may have told the higher-ups that you already said yes.” Your boyfriend scratches his head, casually shrugging his shoulders. “I guess it’s a good thing you did, huh?”

It takes everything in you to withhold from grabbing him by the shoulders and flinging him out the window. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to be calm, and speak.

“Satoru. I will help you raise this boy. But you have to promise you won’t pull any last-minute surprises on me again.”

“I promise,” your boyfriend grins, kissing your nose. For the briefest of moments, you feel relieved. Then he continues: “But there is one little thing I forgot to mention…”

The door to the walk-in closet swings open behind you. You yelp, jumping into Gojo’s arms. A little girl, maybe a year or so older than Megumi, nervously peeks her head out. She waves, smiling sheepishly.

Your boyfriend repeats his act from earlier, introducing the girl with a sparkling grin and a goofy voice: “Introducing… Megumi’s big sister, Tsumiki Fushiguro!”

You drag a hand down your face. Parenthood is not for the weak.

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday! 💛

Rather than trying to work on where I am currently at in The Perfect Storm, I am instead working on things which fall further down the line!! Let's just say that there is a fanfiction trope which I absolutely adore, and I will be using it for Elyse and Balgruuf hehehe... It's been something I have had planned out from almost the very beginning!!

Tagging people on this for the first time in a while! And I am tagging the ever lovely @thequeenofthewinter and @pitiable-arisen and anyone else who wishes to share a WIP, though obviously don't feel obligated to do so 💛😊

--------

Balgruuf exhaled and ran his hands down his face as he finally sat down at his desk. He had most certainly never expected the meeting to end with that consensus, but if it got both the Empire and the Stormcloaks to stop breathing down his neck about allegiances... It surely had to be worth it. At the same time, he was incredibly relieved that they hadn’t settled on Elyse’s suggestion. Just because it had worked once did not mean that it would work again. There was something about that idea which made his stomach churn and his blood run cold – he didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Um... Now that everyone else has gone...” Elyse whispered from where she was sat, looking nervous as she fidgeted with her fingers. “How do you honestly feel about this plan?”

He looked at her for a moment, before pursing his lips together and folding his arms over. “I would probably have to admit that I am uncertain. I do not know what to think about it, even if the logic is sound.”

For a moment, she was quiet, then nodded. “That’s understandable...” She then let out her breath, and closed her eyes. “I’m scared.”

“You’re-? Elyse, why are you scared?” He rose from his seat and moved to the other one at the opposite side of his desk, the one which was beside her. “You know that we do not have to-“

“I- I think it’s because I don’t know what to expect and it goes against how I usually try to handle things. This isn’t just politics, it’s politics mixed in with... all sorts. And this doesn’t just impact the two of us, it will have an impact on everyone around us.” She inhaled, her body trembling slightly. “Plus you know that I- That I like to handle problems on my own, if I can... But it’s not an option this time. This isn't just something that affects me.”

Her eyes widened and body grew stiff for a moment when he reached out and clasped her hands within his. “We will get through this, Elyse. Together.”

[no1ryomafan]

My tradition for when I start a new obscure anime is to always go on ao3 to see if there’s a tag and the reaction from me is always one of three things:

“Oh wow this tag actually has surprisingly decent amount of stuff even if it hasn’t been updated much as of late. Still not 100 fics or anything but good to see about 20 that aren’t crossovers.”

“Oh there’s like- one fic in this tag huh. And it was years ago… And everything else is crossovers for some god foresaken reason. I’m gonna have to write something for this eventually.”

“Why the FUCK does this not have a tag do I really have to do this myself?!”

And the only reason I’m not writing more fics for everything I watch since they tend to fall under the second and third option or even if they don’t I end up liking what I watched a lot is because a red robot looms in my mind preventing me to write anything else- Also I’d get really exhausted from carrying so many fandoms when getter already drags me oml.

[feyhunter78]

Snapdragons (5/?)

Description: Maeria and Elrond take a walk in the gardens and realize there might be something more than friendship between them

She settled in the room given to her when there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find Elrond.

“Elrond? Can I help you?”

He held an arm out to her. “I thought you might enjoy a walk through the gardens before you slept.”

She linked arms with him. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

They walked for a while, Elrond pointing out different flowers, and telling her tales of his childhood, she laughed at his more humorous stories, and squeezed his arm in comfort at his sadder ones. Finally, they came upon a bench and they both sat down.

“Thank you for comforting me during dinner.” She said, meeting his warm eyes. They seemed to glow in the moonlight, and she felt herself drawn into them.

“I am sure it can be worrying to face the High King of any race.” Elrond said.

Maeria shifted, and her knees brushed his, but neither moved away. “Lord Celebrimbor seems quite interested in your romantic endeavors.”

Elrond chuckled and shook his head. “Ever since I began working under him, he has taken an interest in the fine details of my life.”

“I think it’s sweet.” She said, smiling at the faint pink that tinted Elrond’s prominent cheekbones. “I am unsure of Elven courtship rituals. I worried that I would say something that would place the wrong idea in his mind while I answered his questions.”

“You answered them perfectly.” He reassured, before he bent down and picked a glowing flower and tucked it behind her ear. “Beautiful.”

Maeria glanced at the flowers around them. “They really are, I could spend forever in this garden.”

“I have you to thank as well.” Elrond said, a blush tainting his cheeks. “For defending me to Lord Celebrimbor, you did not have to do that, and I am grateful to you.”

“I meant what I said, you would be a wonderful husband.”

They both find other things of interest to stare at before Maeria finds her voice once more. “Are courting someone now, or interested in courting someone? You mentioned a friend? Galadriel?” Tried to keep the jealousy out of her voice, but fears she’s failed.

“She is a dear friend, and a dear friend only.”

“So, there is someone else you wish to pursue?” The thought of Elrond wishing to court someone makes her stomach turn and jealousy curl tighter around her heart.

Elrond fiddles with his cloak, and she takes his silence for an answer.

“My apologies, I have pushed too far. Matters of your heart belong to you alone.”

“I fear they do not belong to only me.” He whispered, more to himself than her.

She goes to ask him what he means, but with a swift movement, he cups her face and kisses her.

She freezes for a moment, and he goes to pull away, but she loops her arms around his neck and pulls him back. He tastes like sun warmed honey, and she craves more. His movements are unsteady at first, but then he finds his footing, and she’s melting into him.

Her hand tangles itself in his hair, and her other hand grips the front of his tunic. “Is it me? Do the matters of your heart belong to me as well?” She asked, breathless between kisses, as Elrond’s silver tongue sought entrance beyond her lips.

“Yes, my starlight, they do.” He replied, before his tongue slipped past her lips, and she was lost in the taste of him.

They finally parted for air, chests heaving, Maeria’s hand still gripping his tunic. “I have no other matters; my heart is yours.” She said, untangling her hand from his hair.

He takes her free hand and presses it to his lips. “We must part and rest, we return to the mountain with Durin at first light.”

“You will not stay with me?” She asked hesitantly. To be kissed in such a way then to be told to leave, even in Elrond’s kind way, feels like a dagger to the heart.

Elrond smoothed down her hair, twirling a lock around his finger. “Elven culture is different from that of humans. We do not rush into physical intimacy at the same speed they do.”

Maeria blushes. “Oh—no, I meant, just sleeping, nothing besides sleeping next to one another, I fear I’ll have another nightmare.” It isn’t a lie, but it’s not the truth. While she fears her nightmares, they don’t repeat themselves two nights in a row.

Elrond looks thoughtful for a moment, then a cunning smile appears on his face. “We shall retire to our separate chambers, but then I will meet you in your room. Keep your balcony door unlocked.” He presses the lock of hair to his lips, then unwinds it and stands.

“Alright.” She manages to stutter out, throughly flustered by his actions.

“Might I walk my starlight to her room?” He holds out his arm for her.

She takes it. “You may.”

He walks her to her room, then bids her goodnight.

Her room is beautiful, everything in Lindon is beautiful, but it’s too quiet. She misses her room back in Khazad-dûm. Misses the slight rumbling of the water mills, the quiet snores of Gerda and Gamil who sleep in the room across from hers. Her door stays cracked so if they need her, she can be up in a moment and across the hall.

Now she lies on a bed so soft it could be made of clouds, with silken sheets and pillows that are far too soft for her liking. Getting up, she moves to unlock the balcony doors, pulling the gauzy curtains back just enough so Elrond knows she’s still awake.

Maeria lies back on the bed, closing her eyes and trying to force her body to relax. Moments later, the balcony doors slide open, and she sits up.

Elrond is dressed in simple sleeping clothes of earthen tones. His hair is ruffled, and he shuts the curtains behind him, ensuring their privacy.

“My starlight.” He greeted her, crossing the room to sit on the bed beside her, blowing out the last remaining candle as he does.

“My love.” She greets back, reaching out for him.

He takes her hands and moves to lay next to her. “I missed you.”

She smiles and knows he can see it even though the light of the moon is diffused by the curtains. “You saw me no less than an hour ago.”

He smiles back and caresses her cheek. “And yet it felt like an eternity.”

Her heart skips a beat, and she prays he can’t hear it. “You are much too charming, for so late at night.”

Elrond closed his eyes and shifted until he was comfortable on his back. “Apologies, I shall save my praises for the morning then.” He teased lightheartedly.

Maeria giggled and shifted until she was comfortable as well, laying on her stomach, her head on his chest. “I will await them anxiously then.”

Elrond’s arms encircled her, and he let out a deep breath, as his body relaxed under hers. “Goodnight, Maeria.” He said softly.

“Goodnight Elrond.” She waited until she thought he was asleep to speak again. “I will not have another nightmare tonight; I merely hate sleeping alone. I’m used to hearing Durin’s family around me, I’m sorry I lied.” She whispered, lightly gripping his sleeping tunic as she drifted off to sleep.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride! Can you write more of that god!Zagreus fic?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Thanatos guides Megara to the place known as the Prince’s Court, stepping into the throne room to see his dark head and fiery laurels bent over a long table. Clustered around him are those whom he used to rest amongst battling his way through the underworld – not just Sisyphus, but the nymph Eurydice and the warrior Patroclus.

Barely more than acquaintances, really, and yet Zagreus has folded them into his confidence, a confidence extended neither to him nor Megara. Again.

He does not tell them when he intends to escape the underworld nor does he tell them when he cracks it open and burrows into a place of his own making. What did those three do that he hadn’t?

Zagreus looks over, smiles, then sees Meg and frowns. Instead of addressing her, he turns to Patroclus and says, “We might as well just tell Achilles outright at this point. If we’re not quick about it he’ll find out from someone else, which is probably best to be avoided.”

“I think it would serve him right, actually,” Patroclus answers, a small smile curling around the edges of his mouth.

Megara lets out a shriek, angry enough to earn her status as a Fury on that alone, and launches herself at Zagreus whips first.

Everyone else scatters, even Patroclus backing up with his hands raised even though he’s a good enough warrior to at least slow Megara down. Thanatos thinks uncharitable thoughts about loyalty to their god and king even though the truth of it is that they’re smart enough to keep from being dragged into the middle of a lover’s quarrel.

Zagreus lets the whips hit him and yet for once he does not bleed.

No rich mortal blood falls from his skin, instead the whips slamming into him and then sliding off.

“Meg, don’t be mad,” he says soothingly. “I just didn’t want to put you in an awkward position-”

“You’re not bleeding,” she says blankly, her rage banked by confusion.

He glances down on his arms. “Oh, oops. Do you want me to? I can, but also we could talk this out.”

“Or move the battle to somewhere that won’t harm my architecture,” Sisyphus pipes up. Eurydice elbows him, looking horrified, while Patroclus just remains amused.

Zagreus inclines his head in their direction. “Or that.”

“Don’t give me a reason to start with you,” Megara hisses at Sisyphus. “Zagreus, what the fuck is happening? What’s with you?” She storms forward to grab his arm, yanking it around, searching his skin for some break. “You’ve always bled. Even when we were children.”

He softens, offering his wrist to her mouth and her very sharp teeth.

Megara grips it, dragging it forward and biting into him as if he’s the first bite of a feast and she’s starving.

Zagreus winces, but leaves his wrist in her mouth. Thanatos feels warm and uncomfortable all over, something intimate there that he always avoids seeing between them. She releases him and her teeth are red with his blood and blood falls down his arm in rivulets. “I’m still me. I still bleed. I just have a little bit more control over it these days. I’m the god of blood. I’m made to bleed.”

[seeingivy]

Heyy Ronnie! It's my birthday today. I was wondering if you could do a reader x gojo fic where reader is kinda sad on her bday? Like people are showing her love but due to bad previous bdays she feels low sometimes during the day? And she feels like she isn't worthy of the love she's getting now after these years (from friends and parents)? Ofc satoru is by her side telling her good things hehe🥹

birthday pick me up

satoru x f!reader

content: good ol birthday fluff, dad gojo w megs + tsumiki, no evil suguru bc idagf this my fake world we are all happy in it

an: MY BELOVED BABIE!!! I SPEED RAN THIS SO I COULD MAKE SURE IT GOT TO YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAY. as a fellow emo birthday sharer (the stories in this fic are literally taken from my own birthdays that were horrible lol), i hope you find a way to make this day wonderful. spoiler non spoiler for the fic, another year you fight on is always something to celebrate!!! I wish a wonderful year of happiness and love ahead for you sweetie pie, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day <3

--

as you write up the mission report, your fingers splayed right against your temples trying to soothe the tension, the root cause of all problems in your life - your very ridiculous boyfriend - sets something down on your desk. 

you look up to find a very cheeky grin on his face, teetering on that fine line that he toes between bothersome and endearing as he waits for your response. 

“satoru.” 

“yes, my love?” 

“why did you just give me a muffin with wax on it?” 

he frowns, his upper lip jutting out into a soft pout. 

“it’s a cupcake, baby.” 

“where’s the frosting, master chef?” 

he yanks his blindfold down, a guilty smile pressed on his face. 

“in my stomach. you just took so long on your mission and i got so hungry that i just ate some. just a teeny tiny bite.” 

you lift the sad excuse of a cupcake into the air between you two, glaring at him with your eyes narrowed. he gives you a sheepish smile in response, as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead in apology. 

“what’s with the wax in the middle?” 

“that’s a candle.” 

“why is there a candle in my non-cupcake?” 

“it’s august first, sweet thing! it’s the start of y/n month!” he responds, so matter of factly like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

you now realize what’s happening. and you’re going to stop it in your tracks. 

back in december, you surprised satoru and megumi - deeming the entire month of december  their month and giving them little surprises and gifts for the entire thirty one days. it was more for megumi than satoru at first. 

“megs.” 

“yes, y/n?” 

“what flavor birthday cake do you want, kid? we’ll order it soon so it’s all nice and ready to be picked up on friday, okay?” 

you turn around to find him sitting there with a blank face. you walk up to his side, leaning over so your eyes can be level with his. 

“are you one of those kids who hates cake? we can do ice cream, muffins, even vegetables if that’s what tickles your fancy. whatever you want, okay?” 

and when he mutters out those six words, it stops you in your tracks all together. 

“i’ve never had birthday cake before. i don’t know which one i like.”

after he admitted that to you, you made sure that you and satoru went the entire six miles for him, so that he’d love his birthday, so he could feel special. because of course that asshole toji never did it for him. 

you ordered every flavor of cake so he could pick a favorite (vanilla won) and got piles and piles of gifts with the gojo clan money. and since satoru is satoru, you had to make sure he had his fair share of celebration that month too since they were both born in december. 

you never expected them to do it back. and you didn’t want him to either. and it’s not that you don’t appreciate it or don’t love him for wanting to go the extra mile for you because you do, it’s just that…

you hate birthdays. 

after a string of misfortunes year after year, of counting down the days just to be kicked down, has turned you off from the holiday all together. 

after inviting everyone to your fifteenth birthday at the bowling alley, just to have no one show up. to sit there in embarrassment, convincing your parents for hours on end that people will show up, that they’ll eat the cake your mom spent hours making just to take the entire thing home and get an embarrassing reminder every time you opened the fridge. 

or your nineteenth birthday. when your parents had an important graduation party to go to and your siblings were out of town, when you spent the entire day wallowing in your room, your phone absent of notifications. because no one remembered and those who did didn’t care enough to stay. 

year after year, a cruel reminder that a day that’s supposed to be special, that’s supposed to be about you, is anything but. 

you can make sure that megumi, tsumiki, and satoru don’t feel the same. that their special days aren’t tainted. but yours is already far beyond repair and you’d like to keep it where it is. deep in your mind, where no one can touch it. 

“satoru. can we not do y/n month? i-i don’t want to celebrate my birthday.” 

satoru, for all intents and purposes, looks like a kicked dog. 

“what do you mean? you love birthdays!” 

“i love your birthday, ‘toru. and miki and megs too but i don’t want all that for mine. it’s- let’s just pretend its a normal day. i’ll go to work, we’ll eat dinner, and then you can be nice to me and i can get some at the end of the night, if you know what i mean.” you say, giving him a cheeky grin. 

he brings his hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands. 

“but it’s your birthday, silly. i’ll let you get some, obviously, but we have to do more than that.” he responds, frowning. 

you lean into his touch, his hands moving to snake around your waist as you sigh into his chest. 

“toru. the best present you can give me is if we do nothing. i-i don’t like to think about my birthday because it makes me sad and i just want to have a normal day with the three of you. i-i don’t expect you to understand but can you just do that for me? is that okay?” you ask, looking up at his sparkly blue eyes, in the few moments they’re free from his blindfold. 

he leans forward, to press the softest kiss to your lips, before pulling back. 

“okay. no birthday.” 

you should have known better that satoru gojo does not take no for an answer. 

--

you wake up in the morning to two very smiley faces and one teeny tiny smile staring at you. satoru, tsumiki, and megumi are all wearing matching purple birthday hats, surrounded in a plethora of streamers in your bedroom. the second you flicker your eyes open, they all pop confetti into the air, the sound catching you off guard. 

“oh my-” 

“happy birthday, my love!” satoru responds, excitedly leaning over to kiss you. he leans too hard because then he’s knocked you over, the two of you tangled up in the sheets and the confetti falling on your bed. 

you sit up as megumi and tsumki climb onto the bed with you, tsumki pressing a wet kiss to your cheek while megumi tucks himself into your arm to give you a hug. 

“how did you even do this while i was still in the room?” 

satoru props himself up to pull one of the matching party hats onto your head and press a kiss to your forehead as he explains. 

“you sleep like the walking dead, babe. we literally popped the confetti once before and it didn’t even wake you up.” 

you take in the room in earnest this time, the three of them intently watching you. there are sparkly gold streamers hanging from the wall, a little handmade sign that has tsumiki and megumi written all over it taped to the wall, and a sweet little tray of your favorite breakfast on the side. 

you turn to your left to find satoru looking at you, that stupid, stupid lovestruck grin on his face as he stares you down. 

“you like it, babe?” 

“satoru, you didn’t have to, i just-” 

he clamps his hand over your mouth, feigning his best serious look. 

“i held off for the other twenty four days of august babe. i had so much planned and i threw it all out for you. but you’re going to let me have this one day and do everything i say because it’s your birthday.” 

“shouldn’t you listen to me because i’m the birthday girl?” 

“i only accept that rule when the birthday girl isn’t being stupid.” 

“hey, you just-”

“did you like it, y/n?” 

you place one of your hands in megumi’s hair, who's still tucked into your side, as you crush satoru’s hand in your other hand.

“it really is sweet. thank you. i’ve never had anyone do something like this for me before.” 

satoru gives you a satisfied smile as he leans forward, pressing another kiss to your face. 

“get used to it. you’ve got like fifty more birthdays with me.” he responds, hopping off the bed as he sets the tray in front of you. 

--

satoru wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to go all out. because after breakfast, he takes the three of you out on the town, to go bowling. which is something you were originally against, because in all honestly, you haven’t returned to an alley since your fifteenth birthday. 

but he drags you in by the wrist and you have so much fun that you forget about the entire thing. satoru’s cheater ass runs down the alley when his ball went into the gutter, tsumiki spends the entire time looking for a pink bowling ball and can’t find one, and megumi gets way too excited about the all you can eat nachos that he accidentally ate too many and almost threw up. 

the entire thing is so silly and so genuinely fun that you don’t think about sitting in the alley alone as a kid even once. you’re laughing too hard to even remember.

and when you get home, your entire apartment is decked out this time and all your friends are jumping out at you the second you walk in, pressing warm kisses to your cheek and wishing you a happy birthday. 

of course he did a surprise party. satoru rents out a karaoke machine, makes them all play a game about who knew you best (nanami won, satoru was pissed), made you open gifts, and brought you a real cake with frosting and candles on it. 

and the entire thing makes you so happy, you could cry. 

you stand by the half eaten cake as everyone winds down in the foyer, stuck in their own conversations. and the entire day, the entire ordeal that satoru went to plan this makes your heart squelch as you watch it in front of you. 

but there’s some part of you. thirteen, fifteen, nineteen year old you that still sits in your head. that remembers that pitiful feeling of being alone on your birthday and convinces you that this is a one time thing.

that it’s the exception, not the rule. that your birthday is nothing to celebrate, still. 

you feel a hand snake around your waist and a pair of lips on your neck as satoru wraps himself around you, his voice warm on your neck. 

“did you enjoy today, birthday girl?”

“yeah. I love you, ‘toru. thank you.” 

you lean to the side to press a kiss to his cheek, before you focus back in on megumi and nanami’s very intense chess game that’s going on. 

“princess.” 

“hm?” 

“i know you. tell me what’s going on in that head. you wanted chocolate instead of red velvet, didn’t you?”  

“well, when you put it like that-”

“red velvet and chocolate are the same. it’s just dyed a different color!” 

you laugh as you turn around in his arms, knotting your knuckles together around his neck. 

“no, satoru. you made it perfect and i loved every second.” 

“then?” 

“it’s just weird, love. i’m not sure how to explain.” 

satoru leans down to put his hands around your waist and lift you up onto the counter. you’re both level height now, your face a few inches from him as you try your best to explain the block in your chest. 

“i love that you did this for me, please don’t think i didn’t. but some part of me can’t help but feel less than right now.” you whisper, his eyes washing over in concern. 

“less than what?” 

“i just mean- this is the first time someone has done this for me and i-” you respond, your voice cracking as those hot tears fall out of your eyes. 

he brings his hand up to your cheek, his touch warm. 

“sweetheart. you know you deserve this right? big fancy birthday parties? breakfast in bed and handmade decorations and birthday cards?” 

you can feel the tears pouring out of your eyes even harder at his words, his voice so soft that it makes every untouched wound in your mind hurt. 

“i-i know everyone deserves it logically but it’s just been so many years and no-no one ever wanted to do it for me that i just-no one even cared and i still feel like they don’t-” 

satoru brings his hands around your waist as he leans the majority of his frame into yours, his mouth hovering right by your ear. he’s whispering soft words into your ear as he tells you to calm down, his hands rubbing small circles into your back. 

“y/n. your birthday is very special to me.” 

you bring your hands up to your eyes as you wipe your tears away, pouting at him through the redness on your face. 

“why’s that?” 

“everyday, i’m grateful you were born. that you’re in my life, that you’re with me, that you’re in this world.”

he brings your knuckles up to his mouth as he presses a soft kiss, a beaming, warm smile on his face. 

“the day you were born should always be celebrated. with this intensity, if not more. it’s another day that you, another year that you’re on this earth here with me. with us, living and breathing.” 

he presses a kiss to your cheek before whispering the final words in your ear, that shatter your resolve completely. 

“what is there not to celebrate, sweetheart? it’s just another year i got to spend with you. another year i get to watch you push on past what bothers you, to stay soft when everything around you is hard. another year you keep fighting. that is always, always something to celebrate.” 

you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his hug, the hold so tight that you can physically feel the pressure in your chest. you must have stirred up some commotion with your crying because they’re all standing at your side now, irritated looks on all of their faces.

“you made her cry, asshole.” shoko says, rolling her eyes at him. 

“you give us a whole lecture about how this day needs to be treated like a national holiday and then your dumbass made her cry?” suguru says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

you pull away from your hug, laughing at their insistence as satoru starts defending himself, and you can’t help but feel it. 

excited for your birthday next year. 

because you know satoru and you know he’s already planning out the ten miles for y/n month for the next year.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter  @shotenvinsoot  @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[literallyjusttoa]

I want to write but idk what to work on help me choose

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 28: Coffee Shop AU

The barista and the bookshop | @abi-cosmos Rating: Explicit Word Count: 55,794 Main Tags/Warnings: Barista Dean Winchester, Librarian/Bookshop owner Castiel, Friends to lovers, Mutual pining, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel, Slow burn, Angst with a happy ending, Depression, Costume parties and masquerades, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Sharing a bed, Coffeeshop AU Summary: In a sleepy mountain town, stitched together with fairy lights, Dean Winchester has been running Squirrel and Moose Coffeehouse since his Dad died. Next door, anchored by family obligation, librarian Castiel has been tasked with taking over Chuck’s Bookshop. Wanting a distraction after his brother leaves town, Dean offers to help Castiel fix it up. It’s a job, something to get his hands on, it doesn’t matter that the librarian is hot and kinda weird. Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean is helping him, but he’s happy that he is, and their friendship grows until he can’t deny what’s right in front of him. But when their time together is cut short, both face a decision they aren't ready for. In a sleepy mountain town, stitched together with fairy lights, what's it gonna be? Peace or freedom?

Are You Writing From The Heart? | @luckshiptoshore Rating: Explicit Word Count: 86,788 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Writer Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, comedian dean, Season/Series 04, Masturbation, Alcohol, Writer Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Fanfiction Writer Dean Winchester, dean/crowley relationship in the past of the fic, cas/meg and cas/hannah relationships in the past of the fic, Internalized Homophobia, Hand Jobs Summary: Castiel Novak's a writer who's waiting for his big break. His last book didn't sell, so now he's doing work for hire, ghostwriting the next in a series of ridiculous horror novels about two hot brothers who hunt monsters together. It’s pretty popular, and the fans are desperate for the next instalment — which is a problem, because the guy who usually writes them just up and vanished a couple of months ago. He left behind a signed contract and the outline for the next two stories, so the publisher’s been looking for someone else who could pick up where Chuck left off. And that's Cas. So he heads to a cafe to get the words out ... and that's where he meets Dean, a smartass wannabe comedian who's working on his stand-up set. Cas is straight, obviously, but there's something about this guy that he's fascinated with. The two of them strike up a friendship ... and soon the world Cas is writing and the world he's living in begin to get mixed up. Sometimes you're writing what you know without even realizing it ...

Finding You In Every Sign | @casblackfeathers Rating: Explicit Word Count: 99,407 Main Tags/Warnings: Deaf!castiel, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, flower shop au, coffee shop au, strangers to lovers, bottom!dean, bottom!castiel, sweet!dean, hurt!dean, hurt and comfort Summary: Castiel was content with the constant flow of his life. He had his brother Gabriel, had his coffee shop and the weekly book club meetings as well as a small but solid group of friends. If there was one thing his hateful family had taught him, it was how fast things could go wrong if he let too many variables shape his life. So when he met Dean, a gradual regular at his shop, Castiel knew he was trouble, because Dean was like a comet, beautiful but beyond reach. Ever since his father died, there wasn’t a single constant in Dean’s life. Moving on, never stopping, never getting attached to one thing for too long had made him a drifter for the past seven years. Being the only hearing person in his family hadn’t been easy with a father like John Winchester, so as soon as Dean saw an escape, he took it. Settling down to open his flower shop was anything but easy, especially when he met the elusive deaf owner of the coffee shop next door. The more he discovered about Cas, the louder the voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe Castiel was the person finally worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe, Dean was willing to listen now.