Dcxdp where Danny has been working with a hero team (did Bruce adopt him? Did he help the teen titans and got told to join them? Idk) for less than a year, maybe they knew eachother for longer, but Danny has been living with them for some months.
Now, I imagined this as a "Danny has to flee to a different dimension after a giw attack/reveal gone wrong" but it can work with other scenarios, the important thing is, death days are important for a ghost's wellbeing, but nobody knows/remembers Danny's deathday or that it's important to commemorate the dead. Maybe he hasn't told anyone yet cause he doesn't want to be a bother, or doesn't trust them enough yet.
So Danny takes the matter on his own hands, each year he goes to a quiet corner of the local graveyard, where he has a piece of marble and a small vase, he usually buys some flowers for his memorial grave and makes some fudge as an offering.
This year wasn't gonna be different, he told his team/family that he was gonna spend the day out, he chose an elegant but comfortable outfit, made some fudge, and saved it on the fridge with a note that said "phantom, do not eat".
The next part might work better with a young hero team, cause despite the note, someone took a bite of the fudge for breakfast.
Danny clearly gets mad, they didn't know, but they just ate an offering, a great offense to the dead it was offered to.
It all ends in a big fight, Danny doesn't want to admit that it was an offering for himself (it just hurts to admit that nobody remembers his death), and the other person thinks he's just having a tantrum over some fudge, like, c'mon, they can make you some if it's SO important to you 😒
And I don't know how to end it cause it came to me while falling asleep and don't remember more T-T
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Tender.
(Simon Riley × Reader)
He closes the door behind, as a pair of hands reach out to touch his shoulders, before they softly tug on the top of his attire. A sigh leaves his lips when you peel the heavy layer off him, freeing him from the stuffy suit.
You smile at him as he loosens his tie, and you hold out your hand to take it.
He watches you as you fold his suit, and set it down on the stool. Leaving it there to be laundered in the morning.
It's a sight he never thought he'd see, and the one he never got used to.
He wonders if Price ever thought the same.
"Never thought you'd settle down, Captain."
He saw his friend grinned, and his eyes crinkled with amusement.
"Never thought you'd bring someone either, Simon." He chuckled before he patted his back, "A beautiful one, too."
He quietly smiled, while his eyes searched for his lover unconsciously.
Lover.
What an easy word to say, for a tangled mess it left behind.
"Oh…" He heard his friend sighed, as he saw the bride bow down to let a tiny, curious hand touch the mantilla. "Look at her. What I won't do to see her smile."
He let out a snort when he saw his friend softened at the sight of her. Captivated. And tender-struck.
He'd call him mad, if he wasn't affected by it.
Just a little shift of his gaze, he found himself staring at a serene face—that is yours. His heart thrummed when you smiled at the little boy, who shyly hid from the bride behind you and his mother.
A sight that'd plague him for a lifetime.
He blinked, as her voice called him to the present.
"You've been quiet for a while now." She mused, "What's on your mind?"
He looks at her, and notes the way you press your lips together, waiting. "Nothing." Is all he said.
You didn't press it further, and he didn't know if it's alright to keep it that way. You knew that it was a lie, you both knew that, but you didn't show it. You understood him, and he yet again took advantage of it.
You give him a small smile, before you turn to the mirror.
That's when his silence falters.
He knew you didn't turn your back on him, and that you only looked away to unclasp your necklace. But his body tenses up, and compels itself to move towards her.
You're at a halt when his hands pull you into him all of the sudden, while his face is buried in the curve of your nape. "I love you." You heard him whisper, and for a moment, you almost thought he bit his tongue from stating further.
"I know." You murmured against his hair, as you stroked his cheek tenderly.
"I didn't deserve it." He spoke in a low tone—a tone that's reserved for confession.
"It's not your place to judge." You replied to him.
"I didn't love you the way you needed."
"You did. A million times in fact."
"I took your love for granted." His voice trembled when he spoke, "I took advantage of your kindness, and I made you think that you love me, even when—"
"Simon."
He didn't resist it when you took his hands into yours, as you stared into his eyes.
"I didn't love you against my will, I chose this myself." You told him, "You never forced me into this. If anything, I should be blamed for it, because I want you."
You give his hand a squeeze as an assurance.
"You're enough for me, Simon."
His eyes widen, before they soften up by your touch. He reaches up to hold your hand, and presses them against his face.
"You're too good for me." He said as he kissed you palm.
"Learn to live with it." You chuckled, "Because I'm not going anywhere."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
He recites the same promise, as he presses his lips against your finger. A kiss, that'll someday be replaced when he's on his knee.
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you know what’s absolutely terrifying???? having to cut a baby’s nails………
Katsuki has to cut your baby’s fingernails when he discovers a tiny little scratch by her eye one morning. it’s barely there, a small thing, but it’s there, marring her little face nonetheless. he frowns at her when he holds her the next morning, her dreamy eyes alert and blinking up at him, she smiles.
“Now I gotta cut yer claws down,” he mutters to her, voice quiet as to not wake your sleeping form in the bedroom. he pads throughout the house with her chubby face resting on his shoulder, her gums gnawing at his bare skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.
he finds himself in a conundrum though, once he realizes just how fucking—how sharp the damn clippers are. they’re tiny, lavender in color, but they’re meant to cut though the nail with such precision. and yes, he’s a pro hero, has had to adopt the title of EMT, firefighter, emergency surgeon a few times in his life when need be.
but…those people weren’t his baby girl. they weren’t this tiny and precious, and they never looked up at him with a face so similar to his, it makes his heart squeeze tight in his chest. he frowns at her again, even deeper, and this makes her hiccup a little giggle, gummy smile spreading wide.
“You’re only gonna wear mittens from here on out,” he grumbles after a while, finally daring to pick up a tiny hand that she instantly curls around his thick finger. it’s the cutest image, he thinks to himself, but he catches sight of the jagged nail, the culprit. his heart squeezes even tighter though, when he realizes that he can’t protect her from every hurt in the world, even if the hurt comes from her own hands. and the realization is an aching one, but he tells himself that he, at least, can patch her up.
you walk in minutes later, find Bakugou curled over your daughter in the rocking chair he built for her room. his tongue pokes from the corner of his mouth in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed. your daughter babbles to him the whole time, her sweet voice cooing the softest little noises that he responds back to.
“I know, I know,” he mumbles to her. “Ya don’t like baths, and don’t like your nails cut, either. What other shit do you hate, huh?” he asks, and she seemingly responds with a long, sighed out coo. it makes him smile, despite the way his hands slightly shake when he cuts the next nail. he’s terrified, of somehow hurting her even more, of cutting too close, of scratching her. but he treks on, and kisses her fat little fingers every time he clips another nail.
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