#isn't it so cute 🥺

[otomesanada]

BMP Jp events are oh my GAWD. The kids look so cute . I wish I could read Japanese. camping here for kuon's route spoilers. and if you could , anything about wilfred,henry,and his son(forgot his name) would be great , I'm simping their whole generation XD

Thank you for your work , you are sooo appreciated.

hi sweetie! i just wanted to say i posted the baby event, so you can now know more about henry and nicholas! here is part one of the events and here is part two! i hope you enjoy it and i’m sorry it took so long!

[willowser]

okay but imagine one day the little one goes up to his daddy and tells him you introduced a guy to him and how much he doesn’t like this man. It doesn’t even have to be a romantic partner it could just be an old friend but lil one and ex!husband bakugou instantly assume you have a new man in your life

omg. the heart attack bakugou is having.

your son is standing on his little step-stool in front of katsuki's bathroom mirror. meant to be brushing his little teeth, but he's mostly chewing on his toothbrush, poking around in his dad's cologne and aftershave and deodorant. at least he's put his pj's on by himself.

katsuki is finishing up his own shower, glancing at him every now and then as he washes the shampoo from his own hair, and when he's finally done, the little boy hasn't gotten any closer to having clean teeth; now he's drawing mindless little shapes through the steam that's built up on the glass.

"oi," he only has to say it once and then your son is letting out a little sigh before brushing the way he's meant to — even if katsuki knows the there's not a lick of toothpaste on that thing.

"dad," he says suddenly, distracted as he turns around to face him. "mommy doesn't let me take a shower."

katsuki moved on from bath time rather quick. in the very beginning, it was fine, because he washed his squirmy son and then wrapped him up in a towel and that was it, but in the last year or so it's turned into "how many toys can i bring with me this time, dad?" and then sitting in the water until it's run cold. it's much easier to get him in the shower at the same time, to shampoo his head and scrub his little butt and then kick him out.

"oh, yeah?" he murmurs, adjusting the towel on his waist. "s'cause mom's better at baths than me."

the little boy only shrugs, before continuing. he's in a small phase right now of 'dad? hey dad? um, dad?' every time he's got something to say, and katsuki finds it both cute and a little exhausting.

"hey dad?"

katsuki hums.

"mommy had a man in her shower."

the first image that comes to mind is of himself, in your shower; the many times you'd taken one together and hugged him beneath the warm water; how it clung to your eyelashes and sat in your cupid's bow. warm, made soft and tender in the steam, like he could mold you against his body forever.

— and then his stomach is swooping so hard, he thinks he might be sick.

"what?" katsuki asks, voice loud and affronted, snatching all his son's attention. "sorry, 'm sorry," and then because his son is still looking at him with wide eyes, he pulls him up close, rubbing his back once before setting him to stand on the counter — which he never gets to do.

guilt twists in his stomach for yelling, though his son seems unbothered now, at new heights. katsuki grabs him by his little tiny shoulders and tries to keep his face smooth and calm, his pending heartbreak hidden.

"who was in mom's shower?"

but your son is smarter than that, can read katsuki like an open book, somehow. as if you passed all your understanding down through the womb; he came out of there knowing exactly what dad was thinking with a single look.

your son only shrugs, averting his eyes to katsuki's shoulder as he lightly pinches his wet skin.

"'m sorry," he says again, shaking his little body around until the boy is laughing. "i'm not mad. i just..." katsuki sighs and tries not to pout. "wasn't expecting that."

"are you mad at mommy?"

the divorce isn't new, and katsuki's not stupid.

you've been on a handful of dates, been open about it, encouraged him to do the same. not that he's bothered, but anyone with eyes and half a brain would try to swoop in on someone like you, so — as much as it makes him want to knock some fucking teeth in — can't say he should be surprised.

he shouldn't be, at all.

still feels like shit, though.

"no," he finally says, tugging the little toothbrush from his tiny fist to put some actual toothpaste on it. "'m not mad at anybody."

"are you sad?"

maybe it's another purposeful distraction, to get out of doing what he's told, or maybe he's probing at nerves because he's too young and too curious, or maybe he just knows his dad too well.

katsuki frowns at his big eyes, staring back at him, before lightly patting his little hip. "brush your teeth, i ain't tellin' you again."

he tries not to think about it, but that just makes it worse. can't stop imagining you in the arms of some other asshole, what stupid shit they must be doing to flirt with you, how they're making you laugh; just the image of it alone — you, besides some fucking bozo, head thrown back the way you do, laughing louder than you ever did with him — makes his stomach hurt.

it makes him dread the hand-off, too. his house is gonna feel too quiet now, after a week with the little brat, and that's a big enough wound to leave him with nothing to say — but you always try to insist on katsuki finding someone every time you get back out there.

it makes him physically ill, just watching the side of your face as you buckle your son into his car seat, all grins because your house gets to be lively with him.

and when you close the door and turn to him and mutter out your little, "hey, by the way....", he has half a mind to just walk away, right then.

"your son," you start off, lightly punching him in the shoulder. "got into the dryer sheets last week and flushed a whole bunch of them down the toilet."

oh.

"oh," katsuki says, and then he narrows his eyes at his son through the window, even though he's not paying any attention.

(on the nights when the little boy can't sleep, is more emotional than usual, katsuki calls you because that's what your son really wants.)

(very relatable feeling, katsuki thinks.)

"yeah," you smile, "and my coworker's husband is a plumber, so i was able to get it all taken care of. just...thought i would let you know."

katsuki shrugs like he could care less, but you see right through it all, of course. the both of you, mother and son, too understanding for his own good.

almost like you were made for him, like you're supposed to still be his.

"yeah, good," he nods once, glancing over your shoulder to see your son finally sitting up a little bit, peering through the window with his big, sad eyes.

just watching the two of you. just knowing.

[coolnonsenseworld]

Winter Wondering Part2!

(winterwonderingcomic hashtag for more)

____

Winter Wondering is a part of Winter Wonderland Series. If you haven't heard of Winter Wonderland you can find part one here ! Now it's a whole Zine, but the series is still about Klance+ Winter (+fluff)

Did you know I drew the first winter wonderland comic in December 2016? 🤣

[kyouka-supremacy]

Panel of all time

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

Alex & Miles exchanging looks during 505 @ The Apollo Manchester 2007

[hella1975]

would you like to talk about how bad the mha ending was hella

as much as i would love to give like. a comprehensive response i genuinely dont think i can get my words together just yet without it being a constant unintelligble stream of 'AND ANOTHER THING-' and bc it's become quite torn in the fandom on if the chapter was good or bad i want like. an actual coherent response here. so i will reblog this if/when i can word it but know IM NOT FUCKING HAPPY

[sotc]

plagued by the shale/zevran conversation where zev said "creating a new life can be a great deal of fun" (and also nod to the control rod commentary lmao the best<3). but all i can think about is how fun and funny it would be to add a little more irony in that man's life and milana finds out she's with child lmao 😇

[tomfoolies]

clandestine meetings

ship: corporate affairs words: 1517 a/n: behold, a TOMJA FIC!! AT LAST!! this is s1 ep8 in the tomja timeline as i previously said in my little teaser post.... i hope y'all like it, because it's one of my fave things i've written in a LONG time >:3333

--

She stands out to Tom from the crowd, standing with a group of people he doesn’t know. Her silhouette is distinct, her disposition imminent, her signature dark pantsuit immediately recognisable. He stalks closer, taking his time just in case it’s not her, but the closer he gets, the clearer she becomes to him in the dim flickering lights.

“Sonja..?”

Visibly startled, she turns around. Her usually sleek hair is curled, and controlled yet haphazard strands of dusty golden hair frame her face. The small gemstones hanging from her earrings move and dangle when she tilts her head. Her confusion softens in a single glance. 

“Tom!” She looks so pleasantly surprised to see him, blinking at him like she doesn’t quite believe he’s there. It elicits a flutter beneath his sternum that he does his best to ignore. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you that!” 

She gives him a look but then indulges him, and his focus shifts to the people that he’d already forgotten about. They’ve all fallen quiet, and seem to eye him either with suspicion or curiosity. 

“A friend knew a friend, you know how it goes.” She turns to her acquaintances without introducing him, showing no remorse or sorrow for having to leave the conversation. “I’ll catch you guys later, alright?”

She doesn’t wait for a response, and gestures Tom to follow. They make their way across the room to an unpopulated corner. The night has taken a turn he wasn’t expecting, so everything feels a bit hazy and unreal, like a dream. At the same time it feels exactly like how things were always meant to go; meeting her here now seems inevitable. 

A waiter passes by, and she switches her empty champagne flute for a new one. He gets one as well, and tries not to get distracted by the way she smiles at the waiter as a silent show of gratitude. Her fingers drum against the glass, at first without aim, but then the song changes and she finds its rhythm quickly. 

Something about her sharp attunement to the world around her has always made him feel more grounded in her company. This moment is no different; his surroundings sharpen, she becomes the focal point. Or maybe he’s just sobering up. Bad time for that.

“Honestly, you saved me there. Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted.”

“Oh, I’m just happy to help. But they might now think I’m like… your potential hookup,” he says, half-serious, sparing a look to the group to see that it’s disbanded. As if she was the glue holding it together.

“I mean, they wouldn’t be far off,” she says with a playful nudge of her shoulder against his arm – that makes his suspiciously situational heart palpitations return – and takes a sip, observing a stranger pass by before speaking again. “I thought I saw Roman here earlier." 

“He's the one that invited us, actually. The Roys boys are all here, even Connor. Greg’s also somewhere, I think he’s trying to babysit Kendall…?”

Sonja’s eyes widen and then she laughs, half embarrassment, half epicaricacy – her trademark blend of emotions. “Okay, we have to find them at some point. I need to witness that.”

They conversate with the most casual abandon, amicable acquaintances to outsiders, perhaps close friends to some. She laughs at something he says, more than once; a small thing he takes great pride in. Occasionally she learns closer to speak, just so nobody else hears what she’s saying. In those moments he can observe her up close, catch the glare of the light in her glasses, smell the sharp floral notes of her perfume that still lingers.

Their connection hangs heavy, invisible yet tangible. A tether curling between them. She could easily tug on it, bring him towards her. 

After their previous night out, he’s kept his distance. Because once he became aware of his gnawing want, with it came the dread. It’s not smart; wanting more from her feels like a death sentence when he’s gotten so far and still has work to do. He can’t throw everything away just because of her – his whole life would inevitably change into something completely different if he did what he stupidly longs for. And yet… This is the most fun he’s had in weeks. Just being with her, enjoying her company, her honest and easygoing demeanor. Going home for the night looms in the not-so-distant future, something he tries his hardest not to think about. 

He knows hope is the vilest thing to have. He despises himself for feeling it in her presence; the hope that things could be different.

She’s gotten close again, gossiping about someone that just walked in, a person she apparently knows, but honestly, he’s not listening right now. Because this time she’s set her hand on his shoulder, and when she’s done talking and she should offset their closeness with appropriate distance… She clings on. Runs her thumb along the shoulder line of his suit, just once, before slowly sliding her hand down his arm. Not the first touch between them, but definitely the most unnecessary one. 

His eyes meet hers, ochre-flecked green and deceptively demure. He is struck by the way she studies him, curious but inscrutable. He tries to imagine what she’s seeing. Maybe something he doesn’t. Or are they looking at the same thing? 

“So… What do you think?”

He blinks at her, chastising himself for getting caught. “Think about what?”

“I had a whole monologue going on just now and you didn’t listen any of it?” she gripes, eyes sharp and voice stern, but her heart isn’t in it. “I’m trying to keep up a conversation here. You’re making it very difficult.”

Only because you’re making things difficult, he thinks; she’s still touching him. But he hasn’t moved away either. 

”Sorry. I’m just surprised you’re spending your time talking to me instead of… Literally anyone else,” he says, partly because it’s all he could come up with, partly because it’s exactly what he’s been wondering. It's definitely way too honest, and embarrassment follows immediately.

”Why wouldn’t I? Tom, you’re the only person I wanna be talking to right now. I was so painfully bored before you showed up.” 

Something on her face shifts, she furrows her brow and blinks sharply – a flash of clarity, a realization – but it’s gone before he can process it fully. 

”Which is wild to say when…” she continues, gestures around. 

He chuckles, trying his hardest to keep it together. The anticipation crawls up his spine in a languid shiver. He can’t look at her in the eyes. “It is. But we all have our preferences.”

“What I mean to say is… I just like spending time with you, alright? You’re really great company. I’m glad we bumped into each other tonight.”

If everything felt unreal before, he’s sure he’s in a fever dream right now. Her words have taken him off guard, and he feels dizzy and flushed in a way that’s not just from the alcohol in his system. Painfully aware of himself, he feels like something bright and loud and far too conspicuous, and he thinks that everyone can tell – especially her. 

“The feeling is mutual,” he manages to respond. But it seems to be enough for her, and she gives him a small smile. 

That’s when he sees himself in a different reality, like getting a glimpse through a blurry window; viewing the distorted yet clear reflection in a puddle. A reality where he lets himself have hope, have the courage to make that choice. 

He’d be leaning closer just like she did, with the very same intention to touch. But this time it’d include a quiet question, one she’d reply to by pressing her mouth on his. He’d taste the lingering champagne, she’d pull him closer by his collar. He’d finally get to touch her like he’s wanted to. Making good use of the other guests, they’d blend into the crowd of ridiculous horny people pretending to be sophisticated. Eventually he’d take her hand, eager to see where she’d lead him so that they could–

The thought shatters, leaving only the truth in front of him. Distance, a line he shouldn’t cross, cannot cross – though he desperately wants to. And that knowledge is devouring him from the inside out. 

She nods as if he’s said something, none the wiser to what’s just played out in his head. Finally letting go of him, she takes a step back. The absence of her touch makes him recoil.

“C'mon, let's go find Greg,” she says conspiratorially before glancing around, already seeking out the aforementioned man much to Tom’s disdain. “I think we could use a bit of entertainment.”

He can take his frustration out on Greg. That always makes him feel better, and even more so whenever she finds it amusing as well. 

”Lead the way,” he says, ready to follow her.

He might be stuck, he might want things that are impossible. But at least she wants him around – it’ll have to be enough.

tagging @isabelinlove because i've promised her to post a tomja fic for like. the longest time...😝

[woozi]

230121 - TWITTER

pledis_17: [17'S THE 8] 새해 복 많이 받으세요🧧#설날전야식사 #8일간즐거운설

[sukugo]

it's been kinda funny for me going from 2 very fucked up ships to sukugo.

[seiwas]

allow me to gush for a minnie, my bf just did the cutest thing 🥺

there's this japanese bakery by his gym that we buy bread from whenever we're craving something late at night (it's usually a mix of the last few stocks but we’ve been doing this thing since 2019 where we taste test whatever’s left).

and today, just when he got home from the gym, he messaged me one after the other: "i have smth for you" -> "but i wanted to—" -> "nvm i'll just call" then called and showed me the bread he got for me 😭 he got us one each of our fave one 🥺

and he was doing this face 🥺 saying: "i can never hide anything from you ☹️ i meant for it to be a surprise but i really wanted to show you 🥺" and then after a while, "how come i can't keep things from my *insert petname* ☹️🥺?"

i am so 🥺🥲

[masquenoire]

“Icons only”

Send "Icons only" and something for my muse to react toAnd I will show my muse's reaction using only icons (1-5) and no text

[willowser]

im unsure if youre still taking for the trope mashup but if you are !! 97. time travel and 61. poorly timed confession

if I'm allowed to give ideas i think reader time traveling into the future right in the middle of bakugou's love confession to them would be so funny!! especially if reader doesn't really know him too well or something like that or nothing like that at all if you don't vibe with the idea!!

omg this is so cute !!! 🥺 i love this 🥺

how funny if you've only just met him 💀 like you're still not able to read his surly manner and you're taking his bad attitude to heart 🥺 and maybe he doesn't even like. think about you yet, just sees you flitting about the agency and doesn't do much more than glance up as you pass by the windows of his office.

so you sit back down in your little cubicle and answer the phone and it's like you've opened something; you're not sure what or how or why, but then you open your eyes and you’re holding the receiver with its dangling cord, standing in the back corner of a busy restaurant near the kitchen.

and you have NO idea what the hell is going on, but servers are slipping by you with full trays in their hands and you don't even have time to get your bearings before feeling like such a nuisance, all in the way, but no matter where you step, it's in front of someone somehow, so for the longest time you're just moving this way and that. don't even have the chance to be confused, because you're too worried about figuring out where to go just to think for a second.

and that's when you see him: squished into a corner table, arms crossed across it. and the look on his face is so — soft, enough that your heart sings at the sight, despite feeling so unsure about him. he's so handsome, and you didn't notice it until just now, as he gazes at the person he's with.

he's on a date, you realize, then, and it washes over you like a dump of cold water. you suddenly feel really bad, for seeing him in such an intimiate moment; if he knew you were witnessing him, he'd probably be furious, maybe even hate you for it. but — it's like being in on a secret and you can't look away, from the soft black tee he's wearing and the nice way it hugs the curve of his shoulders; the half-lidded stare directed at his date; the small frown — nearly a cute pout — slanting on his face. boyish, you think, and you never knew he could look such a way.

his date is talking briefly with the server, and something is said that makes them laugh, which has bakugou averting his eyes down to the table and — he looks almost embarrassed ?? like he's thinking too hard ?? and you have to scoot in a little closer just to see, you know ?? just to know who it is that's turned him into this fragile man, nothing at all like his hero counterpart.

(you don't realize it for a long moment, and by the time you do, you're definitely too close — but you distantly think that they look nice, what of them you can see from the back. the cut of their hair and the shirt they're wearing, the curve of their cheeks when they smile and — it's so hard to see it from afar and recognize yourself, there, in every way.)

bakugou's face turns a little pink under the amber lights and he leans in a bit, so they can hear him over the chaos of the restaurant, and he says something that has them glancing over their shoulder for just a second, enough for you to see, to have no choice but to realize.

and you're too close, close enough that his eyes slip up over their — you're — shoulder, too, and for just a moment, he's giving you the same exact look as the one he's been wearing all night. you-you gets it, the full assault of the warmth in his eyes and the soft frown of his bitten lips and, again, just like before, your heart sings. like something about it is too familiar.

and then his face immediately crumples as he looks back at the other you and then back and the forth and then —

"oi,"

you turn, suddenly, and — you're back in the office, back in your chair at your cubicle and surrounded by the things you recognize, that you know.

and bakugou, who is still just dynamight, is standing there, face hard and posture straight. frowning.

you have to shake your head to clear it, but when you speak up, you're entirely breathless. "sorry, yes?"

his jaw clenches, muscle flexing in his cheek as he blinks. "you send that report to claims yet?"

"uh, yes. yes! i sent it this morning...sir."

bakugou only nods once, eyes flitting down, like he's trying to see what's making you so flustered, and then he's turning on his heel and muttering out a quiet, "alright."

your heart is beating out of your chest and you still haven't caught your breath, not since you landed in — whatever that was, but you scoot your chair quickly to the opening of your cube, peeking around to watch him, just from behind; shoulders squared and firm, a hand stuffing down in the pocket of his sweats, jaw still grit as he glances to his left.

he gently shoulders his door open, and then casts one last look down the hall before closing it behind him — and it sears right through you: bright and fierce and simmering, a touch too warm. a look that you recognize, that you know.

taking this moment to endorse one of my favorite fics of all time bc this ask reminded me of it, but if you have not read @ofmermaidstories 'on my way (to you)' please go do so because it makes my heart ACHE 🥺🩷✨️

[mel-loly]

-EVERYONE, LOOK FOR WHAT I RECEIVED TODAY!✨

[striveattemptfail]

Flowers in "The Blossoms of Hell" | Zatanna & the Ripper #47

[freesomebodybyluna]

the gensei/taeheon friendship is so sweet :'((