RANDOM DIALOGUE IDEAS #14
Feel free to use any of these dialogue ideas in your writing. Be creative with the context!
"I don't need your help"
"look at this"
"I kept my promise"
"I'm not feeling well"
"this one is my favorite"
"it's too hot"
"I can't afford it"
"I didn't know what to do"
"my head is pounding"
"I'll take care of it"
"it's now or never"
"I have bad news"
"let's go together"
"I can't think straight"
"we can't risk it"
"I'm too scared"
"this feels wrong"
"I want one"
"it really hurts"
"that was really nice of you"
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“At the end of the day, we all look up at the same night sky,” the hero reasoned, crossing their arms over the railing they were standing by. They chanced a sideways glance at the villain, who seemed to be contemplating that statement.
“Do we really?” the villain said. “Your night sky is filled with shooting stars, while mine seems to be filled with dying ones.”
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In classic Cat fashion, I had an itch to do an art challenge this October, but since the classic inking-tober has developed so much baggage, I decided to make my own! I was inspired by the “Maptober” challenge that was floating around a few years back but couldn’t find one for this year.
ENCOUNTOBER is a Nondenominational October art/writing/DMing challenge! Each week is divded into general Challenge Ratings to build your encounter, map, or illustration around, but aside from that and the prompt, the world is your oyster! Use the tag Encountober if you choose to participate! I’d love to check out and reblog other folks’ stuff!
The prompts themselves were given to me by my amazing Patrons on my discord! They came up with some AMAZING prompts that inspire SO many ideas! If you want to be a direct part of projects like these, definitely check it out!
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Dialogue Prompts: “Listen…”
“Oh. Yeah that’s the rat, I kinda think of him as a roommate by now.”
2. “You never listen.”
“I would if you talked to me.”
3. “I need you to listen to me right now.”
“I could listen to your beautiful voice for the rest of my days.”
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♡ for the intimacy thing! (With Dadmight maybe??)
♡: Accidentally falling asleep together
I see someone's fishing for their FAVOURITE trope again! And I'm so incredibly pleased for it.
"Young Midoriya?" Toshinori takes stock of the ratty-haired teenager slouching through the door to his office with raised eyebrows. Any standard greeting is foregone at the sight of the boy's drooping eyelids and slack expression. "What's the matter, my boy?"
Midoriya lifts his head up just briefly before dropping it again, as though unable to keep it straight. "Mnothing really..." He mumbles, and for how little his lips move, it sounds like he's talking through a thin wall.
Toshinori sits upright, strangely taken aback by the realization of what's happening with his student. He's seen his successor tired before. Has seen the boy downright exhausted more often than even that. However not once, not even in those ten grueling months of early-mornings and late evenings together on the beach, has he ever seen Midoriya so sleepy.
It's, frankly, kind of adorable.
The man chuckles, watching his boy shuffle over to his sofa unprompted. He looks like a little zombie. "How much sleep did you get last night?" He asks, in lieu of cooing at the teen's grumpy pout. More half-muffled mumbling answers him, but he manages to catch some mixed apologies in there. A very typical response, he muses while shaking his head. "Go ahead and sit down, I'll make some tea."
Midoriya doesn't sit, so much as collapse onto the couch. Still, although his legs stretch out in front of him and his arms lay limply over his stomach, his eyes stay open and follow his teacher while he bustles over their tea.
Tea in hand, he approaches. His student takes up very little space next to the armrest. "Scooch over." Toshinori says needlessly.
The boy twitches, but makes no other move otherwise. Either he recognizes his mentor's joke or he's exhibiting a rare bout of laziness. Toshinori chooses to sit in the center, between the two cushions, taking advantage of the opportunity presented to him by the absence of his student's usual skittishness.
Midoriya is so out of it that he doesn't even flinch when their legs nudge together. "Here. Tea."
The arm moves like molasses. He smiles wide and withholds his amused laughter as he manually takes and wraps Midoriya's fingers around his drink. The cup that feels dinky to Toshinori fits in his boy's smaller hand perfectly. This whole situation tickles him, for some reason. Makes his face settle into some fond expression that he can't describe, and sets off a warm and happy hum from deep in his chest.
"Don't fall asleep now." He says, while Midoriya breathes through steam with bleary eyes. "You've got your afternoon classes still. English with Mic, right?"
A heavy nod. "Mhm. Yeah."
He's losing him. Toshinori finds himself caught up in his successor's soothingly low energy, and slouches back himself, absorbing heat from his tea and the teen beside him. "Do you like your English class? I don't think I've ever asked you."
The answer comes slowly. "Yeah..." The boy repeats, squinting. He takes a sip of his drink, and his eyebrows pinch with the faintest frown at the heat invading his mouth. "I do like English. Present Mic is so cool. So cool."
Long legs meet resistance as they try to stretch out alongside the shorter ones of the littler hero. Toshinori picks up his feet one by one, and crosses them on top of his coffee table. "He is cool, my boy, but go easy on the praise. You'll make me jealous one day, you know?"
"Hmm?" Midoriya blinks up at him, and Toshinori's ground-level guard lowers even further at the trust he sees in the boy's big, sleepy green irises. "All Might is still the coolest. He'll always be... the coolest."
Smile crooking up on one side, he presses his arm to his student's gratefully. "I'm glad to hear you still think so, my boy. It makes me happy to be your favorite, even among all your other cool teachers." He's joking, of course. It matters little to him that his student admires other heroes besides All Might. Very little.
The teen startles him, a bit, by leaning into the press of his arm. Now they are shoulder to shoulder, and Midoriya's stocky build is deceptively soft now that it's so relaxed.
Wasn't Toshinori still relatively upright a moment ago? When did his head sink so low to rest against the back of the couch? He distantly reminds himself to fix his suit after Midoriya leaves, now that it's bunched up around his neck.
"Mmm." A stringy hum with very little breath, sounding very close. "S'true though."
His easy smile broadens. It's a silly thing to be happy about, the boy losing consciousness at every beat and with looser lips than he'd let himself keep before. But it's simply lovely to hear. To be here, too. Toshinori sighs contentedly.
The scrawny old hero sinks ever further into the cushions. And with the weight of his boy against him, nose full of familiar smells and the brush of fluffy, pine-green hair soon pressed into the skin of his neck and jaw, he falls dead asleep.
He wakes a bit over two hours later, to the unwelcome sight of Eraserhead looming over him. A shadow falling against the light of the low afternoon sun through the windows.
"Am I to believe." The disgruntled teacher says flatly. "That you are responsible for the bane of my existence going MIA on school time?"
Toshinori supposes he should be frightened of the dead stare being levelled at him from above. But, presently, Midoriya's nose is breathing puffs of hot air onto his neck. And their two arms have linked together at some point, a scarred hand curled in a loose fist tucked up into his own. And his elevated feet have been joined by a smaller pair, clad in scruffed-up red shoes that hold the same nostalgia as a pair of yellow boots and a white cape.
"Shhh, Aizawa." His voice is scratchy with misuse and the gumminess of sleep, even while whispering. He tilts his blond head just enough to see half of the freckled face drooling into his jacket. "He's sleeping."
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Whump Prompt #774
(In the lead up to whumptober I will be drawing from the alternatives list)
While traumatic brain injuries are a horrific ailment to suffer in real life, there's something quite pleasing about the symptoms when writing them for fictional characters...
Short/Long-term memory problems
Trouble thinking clearly,
Feeling more emotional
The blend of symptoms make for a wonderful slow recovery fic filled with angst - particularly if writing graphic injury is not your cup of tea.
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You recently did a series of wedding/proposal suggestions and prompts. In the same vein, any elopement prompts you could share?
I'm not too familiar with eloping, but here are some prompts for you:
It was not the lavish party they had dreamed of as kids, but it was the perfect wedding for them as adults.
The whole family drama weight on them so much, that they finally made a drastic decision.
It was quiet in the mountains. Just a few birds flying over their heads, the constant flow of the nearby river and their promises to each other.
The sand beneath their feet and their hands in each other's. Saying yes was the easiest decision they have ever made.
Hope you like them :)
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"I have many talents."
"And yet none are actually helpful."
"Incorrect, I can herd cats."
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Dadmight, ♖ or ♗ please
Hair washing it is! Send me dad prompts
read on ao3
This got so soft: hair washing, caretaking, bnha manga spoilers, post hospital injuries, 1.4k words
It is only after they’re home, standing in the foyer of Toshinori’s borrowed dorm room at UA, that Toshinori asks.
“Can I wash your hair, my boy?”
Midoriya looks up at him with dazed eyes, hooded from the strong painkillers running through him and the bone-deep exhaustion that lingers from his body trying to mend itself. Toshinori pointedly doesn’t look down to the two casts that lay limp at the boy’s sides. For a moment Toshinori isn’t sure if Midoriya has registered what he has said.
Soon however, a small, lazy smile crooks up the boy’s mouth. “Is it that bad?”
Toshinori looks at the ragged mess on top of Midoriya’s head with a soft expression. Flattened in places from days on end spent lying down, tussled in others from the sheer force of lingering dirt and sweat that rags and spit washes alone couldn’t quite care for, Toshinori shrugs.
“It could do with a scrub.”
Too many times over the last number of weeks in that horrid hospital room did Toshinori want to reach out and run his hands through that hair, soothe the nightmares and fix the mornings that his boy would disappear into, eyes staring at nothing as he shuttered away into his own head. On those days, Toshinori would talk about absolutely everything and absolutely nothing in equal measure. Sometimes it helped, he thinks, Midoriya slowly returning to the present, blinking his eyes as if he had only been asleep for a while.
Toshinori always greeted him with a smile when he came back.
“This way, my boy,” Toshinori gestures, leading them down the hall into the spacious bathroom Nezu had had the foresight to install. The principal had also been generous with Toshinori’s shower arrangements, installing a deep tub with a shower attachment and built-in seating. He has never felt more grateful for it than now.
With a little help, Midoriya dresses down into just his shorts, torso bare to the cool air of the bathroom. The bruises have mostly healed, fading into pale yellows and greens, deeper wounds knitting together nicely under dissolvable stitches that will still remain for a few weeks more. The hospital had sent the boy home with cast guards—glorified plastic bags that fit snugly around white plaster, which Toshinori carefully applies in case the water goes places he doesn’t intend.
For a while, there are no sounds other than the rhythm of their breathing mixed with the crinkling of plastic, the soft running of water cocooning the room in a thin haze of steam as it’s left to warm, and Toshinori takes advantage of the calm to observe Midoriya.
The boy’s gaze is still softened, as if he isn’t quite sure what’s going on, but by the way he responds to Toshinori’s guiding touch and hums an affirmation when Toshinori asks him a question, he isn’t worried too much.
The boy looks beaten.
Emotionally as well as physically, he looks like he has taken on the weight of the world, and after it had slipped from his shoulders, he mourned the loss of it.
The doctors said his arms would heal given time, and Toshinori will never be able to forget the relief that had brightened the boy’s skin for the first time since he had woken up in the hospital, hooked up to too many machines and bound under too many wires. But soon enough the grey had returned when Midoriya was faced with just how much of an uphill battle his recovery would be, dark freckles fading into the dullness of his skin.
Today had been a good day, the boy brighter than ever that he could go home, something he had talked about incessantly for days, and even now with just the two of them, the boy still looks better than Toshinori thought he would.
His boy has always been resilient.
“In you get, Midoriya,” Toshinori says when they’re done, helping the boy through his clumsy steps that suggest his legs aren’t entirely under his control right now. Once Midoriya is seated comfortably, arms held stiffly in front of him, Toshinori grabs the detachable showerhead and brings it around to the boy’s back, letting the warm water begin to run down his bare skin.
“Mmm…” he hums, his eyes closing slowly. Toshinori huffs a laugh.
“If that feels good, just wait until we actually get started, my boy.” Warm water like this must feel close to heavenly after so long without a proper shower. Without another moment wasted, Toshinori begins.
He discovers that Midoriya’s hair is surprisingly long as he runs the water over the boy’s scalp, drenching the strands until they are dark and hanging heavily just past his shoulders. Grabbing the shampoo, he places the showerhead aside, working a generous dollop into his hands before applying the product first at the scalp, working it to the ends.
Midoriya simply comes undone.
More hums of contentment make their way from the boy, his body swaying with every push and pull from Toshinori’s long fingers. He uses them to massage Midoriya’s head, taking every moment to not just clean his hair, but to make him feel good; Toshinori can’t bear for this to be purely utilitarian.
If anyone deserves a gentle touch right now, it’s his boy.
As he works, Midoriya’s posture slackens, his spine bending forward in small increments until Toshinori is nearly bending over to reach him, hands covered in so many bubbles they’ve all but disappeared.
“Alright, Midoriya, time to rinse.”
When the boy doesn’t so much as nod his head, Toshinori finds he isn’t surprised.
Midoriya stays upright even as Toshinori lets go, and this suggests the boy hasn’t actually fallen asleep even though he would probably like nothing more than to do so. Looking down on him and his relaxed posture, Toshinori has an idea.
His hands are still covered in suds, but he reaches around anyway, pushing gently at the boy’s chest to straighten him enough for his body to lean back into Toshinori’s other waiting hand. When Midoriya’s head falls back, neck fitting snugly into Toshinori’s open palm, and the older man finally gets a good look at Midoriya’s face, his heart feels unbearably warm in his chest.
Midoriya’s face is slack, mouth open slightly with eyes closed, his face the utmost picture of comfort. Toshinori’s insides twist in a form of glee that he keeps carefully quiet, not wanting to disturb the peace that has fallen over a boy who after fighting for so long deserves any rest he can find.
With his free hand, Toshinori continues, grabbing the showerhead once more and letting the water run as white rivers through Midoriya’s hair, taking all the evidence of the boy’s battles with it. Dark green strands weave in and out of Toshinori’s fingers as he moves the boy’s head back and forth, encountering no resistance from the tired body in his palm, Midoriya’s lax mouth only widening a little more with each turn of his head.
It strikes Toshinori, as the last of the shampoo is washed from the boy’s head, just what this is.
This boy has taken on the world, winning in some ways and losing heartily in others, and yet when things go quiet and the darkness recedes and they come together again, two parts of a whole (and isn’t that even truer now, Toshinori thinks, peering down at the shattered remains of this child’s limbs that rest just below him), this boy does not shrink. No, his heart remains open and kind, seeing the good around him that remains, and he still places himself into another’s care; one that isn’t quite sure if he deserves such unwavering confidence.
He may be unsure, but if Midoriya deems him worthy, he will strive not to disappoint.
“Midoriya, my boy...we’re done. Time to wake up.”
The boy’s head is still slack in his hand as weary eyes blink open, a small, dopey smile lighting the boy’s face as he stirs awake.
“All Migh’? Done?”
With a nod, Toshinori helps the boy sit upright, twisting his hair to remove the last of the water. Already his curls have begun to spring upward into relaxed ringlets, and Toshinori can’t help but wrap one around his finger before letting it slip away. He has a small smile he can’t seem to get rid of as he helps the boy out of the tub, drying him off and helping him dress with as much modesty retained as possible, a task that will be difficult for Midoriya to accomplish on his own for a while.
Midoriya looks ready to collapse by the time they’re done.
“Sleep now, my boy?” Midoriya nods.
His head hardly has time to hit the pillow before he’s out like a light.
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Decade Drawing Challenge
Keeping in mind popular fashion trends during these decades, draw how your oc/muse would dress if they were around during these time periods. Feel free to do some research and really get creative with it!
the '20s (1920-1929)
the '30s (1930-1939)
the '40s (1940-1949)
the '50s (1950-1959)
the '60s (1960-1969)
the '70s (1970-1979)
the '80s (1980-1989)
the '90s (1990-1999)
the '00s (2000-2009)
the 2010s (2010-2019)
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A bunch of different dialogue prompts #30
"If only one of us is can make it out of here alive... it's gonna be me."
"Honey, what's going on? Why are you crying?" "*sniffs* What if they don't like the wrapping paper on the gift?" "They will, honey, don't worry. Go back to sleep." "Are you sure?" "One hundred percent. Trust me." "Okay."
"This is outrageous!" "Sweetheart, you have to calm down."
"Back then I honestly didn't think it could get any worse. But then I met them, and I thought, uh oh." "And we've been inseparable ever since."
"How was your day?" "Nice. Why do you ask?" "Because I wanted to make sure you had a nice last day before I kill you"
"Where are the others?" "You mean the scum you call friends?" "Yes, now where are they?"
"You're an idiot." "Takes one to know one."
"Why did you do that?? I got what you were saying, I didn't need a demonstration!"
"Listen, we don't want any trouble." "Well I guess that's too bad, cuz I do."
"What are you laughing at?- Actually, I don't wanna know."
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Hello! I am in great need for some prompts, and I know you are busy but I need to get this chapter out. It's a batista au and my ideas are dry. For a lil bit of context: there is one very annoying customer who has love-hate feelings towards a salty night shift worker. I hope you get back to me, you have unlimited imagination, thank you!
Well, I hope my prompts are able to help you write the next chapter. I know this too well; I have to deliver new chapters on several stories as well...
10 coffee shop AU prompts
Feel free to use and reblog!
Person A = annoying customer; Person B = salty night shift worker
#1 - Person A is demanding coffee art for their order, knowing Person B isn't known for their beautiful coffee art and isn't eager at all to do this during their night shift.
#2 - Person A is complaining about the bad service when Person B takes their order but when Person B isn't working the next night they feel an unexpected wave of disappointment wash over them.
#3 - Person B is starting doodling on the coffee cups during their not very busy night shift. Person A is watching for a while until they ask in an unusual moment of softness for one of the cups. Unbeknownst to B, they keep the cup at home.
#4 - Person A is seeing Person B drinking nearly all of the coffee they make during their shift themselves. A is warning B that they'll tell this to B's boss if they didn't get much more friendly and courteous towards A.
#5 - Person A is driving Person B crazy with their special requests. Demanding a certain kind of vanilla-flavoured almond milk can cause a lot of chaos in a night shift.
#6 - After several bumpy encounters they notice that they have something in common. Only after the third cup of coffee, they're starting to become a pleasant company for others.
#7 - Person B is annoyed by the fact that Person A, unlike the other regular customers, never sticks to the same order but decides to take something different every time.
#8 - Person A is seriously doubting if they'll come back to this coffee shop if Person B is putting on their dreadful music during their night shifts.
#9 - Person A never orders something homemade but only a plain coke. It takes a lot of effort for Person B to not ask with a growl why A doesn't get their coke elsewhere if they apparently don't even enjoy the coffee shop.
#10 - It seems to Person B that this certain customer, Person A, is never going to stop talking. B only wants a quiet night shift but of course, there has to be the chatty returning guest with their detailed stories.
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Bucky is really good at giving flowers. He’s elegant and kind, if a little akward about it, a joke or compliment at the ready.
Unless it’s Sam. Bucky just ends up throwing the flowers in his face.
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More Assorted Prompts 2
1. “I just want to know what I did to deserve this.”
2. “I never meant to let it get this far.”
3. “That is the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
4. “You are my person.”
5. “Thank you for staying.”
6. “You saved me.”
7. “I thought it was a joke…”
8. “You deserve the world.”
9. “I will never forget you.”
10. “You make me want to stay.”
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Dialogue Prompts: “Try…”
1. “Just give it a try, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go with a definite no on this one.”
2. “I tried.”
“And now you’ve forgotten why.”
3. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”
“Neither of us would be here if that was true.”
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I can’t stop thinking about the alpha reader being presumed dead for like a week for some reason, before turning up again, mostly unharmed.
Like, they are desperate to get back to their omega and when they do, they find their omega depressed and unresponsive.
Or maybe they have pups already and their omega has gone into lockdown defence mode and is refusing to let anyone into the house or let the pups leave.
Or maybe the omega went into such a rage they had to be sedated.
Maybe the alpha even crashes their own funeral, and they see their omega crying unconsolably over the empty coffin, or maybe they’re the stoic type who is sitting at the front refusing to move.
And what about after the omegas spot their alpha? Who thinks they’re hallucinating? Who throws themselves at their alpha and refuses to let go, holding so tightly it almost hurts? Who is already so unresponsive they take a few minutes to even register what’s going on?
Just so many possibilities!
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Whump Prompt #775
(In the lead up to whumptober I will be drawing from the alternatives list)
“Don’t scream.” The whumper smiles, holding the red-hot branding tool just inches from their face. “If you do I’ll only want to press harder.
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♛ for Izuku and All Might, please?
♛: Sharing a dessert
Thanks very much for this prompt! It made me think a little, but I hope it works for you.
Izuku wasn't sure what the point was to this outing.
On the surface, All Might has been nothing but transparent about it. The hero spent some time talking up this small, cramped restaurant tucked away in quieter Musutafu that's apparently been here since he himself attended UA as a student.
"The food isn't all that spectacular," He'd said while signing the pre-prepared student leave form he whipped out not even two seconds after Izuku agreed to go with him, "But it's good, quiet and has a great homey atmosphere. At least, it did when I last visited. Which was when I was seventeen. Which was uh, decades ago. So." He'd sheepishly rubbed the back of his head after that, averting his eyes. "Hopefully, it's still just as good. We'll just have to see it for ourselves!"
As it turns out, his mentor was right about the establishment. Izuku has lived in Musutafu his whole life, and hadn't given much thought to the little, cracked-pavement plaza right between this side of the city and the other. But the restaurant All Might has taken him to is like a geode among its plain surroundings.
All Might's whole face lit up once he'd peaked his head in the glass-metal door, and he'd held the door open so that Izuku walked in first, despite the boy's protests. It's easy to see the appeal in the old place. Rather than the dingy, fluorescent lights most often found in hole-in-the-wall joints like this, rusty metal containers and recycled jars hang from the ceiling with warm, yellow lightbulbs inside. Every table has a dusty little cactus in a clay bowl, and is covered in colourful checkered cloth.
The menus are all worn at the edges, and while All Might kept his own in hand, he'd poured over Izuku's with him instead. Boney fingers jabbed at everything he said his student would 'definitely' like, energy abuzz and happy but nervous. Izuku couldn't think of any reasons for the unusual emotions his mentor was exhibiting, waiting diligently for instructions, important news or a One For All discussion that never came.
And now, they are sitting over empty, mismatched dishes cleared of food that was, as promised, quite good. Not spectacular, but tasty and hot and filling. All Might is still talking, gesturing with the cheerful disposition he'd walked in with and asking his student all sorts of questions about school and friends that he has no idea how to answer. And Izuku is still confused, not sure when the other shoe will drop or why his mentor brought him here to begin with. But he feels nice.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" All Might asks suddenly, out of the blue, and Izuku blanches at the man's resurgence of nerves. His hands fidget over the placemat, and his brow is tilted up in concern. Izuku wonders for a second why All Might's expression is so familiar. "Because you know, you didn't have to come if you didn't want to, my boy. I wouldn't have minded."
The answer appears before him like sunshine after a rolling cloud. Izuku has been here in the past, in these types of restaurants, having these types of talks. Just not with All Might, before.
He didn't ever think his mentor could look at him like his mom does.
"I'm fine!" He blurts, sitting straighter in his seat. Seeing as the man studies him for his honesty, Izuku gives All Might a massive, beaming grin. "I'm having a great time, actually! Do... Do you think we can stay a little longer?"
There's a moment of contemplation, or perhaps hidden astonishment, as All Might watches him. And then, the hero lights up again. Eyes clear and shoulders up, he reaches over and pats Izuku's hand, and then his shoulder, as though unsure what else to do with his poorly concealed relief. "Of course, my boy! Would, would you like anything else to eat? Maybe a drink?"
Izuku, delighted and flushed for reasons he can't name, enjoys the attention thoroughly. "Can we get dessert, maybe?"
All Might wastes no time and snatches up the second, smaller menu in a positively gleeful manner. "Of course, of course, anything you like!"
Izuku insists on his hero getting something for himself too. When he declines, already full from his meager portion of lunch, Izuku asks for an easy choice of a slice of strawberry sponge cake with whipped cream. When it comes around, the teen goes and picks up a second fork from the bucket next to the register.
"Oh, no. Not for me." Despite attempting to decline, All Might takes the utensil offered to him in hand. "You should enjoy your food, kid."
"It's just in case I can't finish it!" Izuku lies. His first bite of cake is sweet and soft, and he makes an appreciative noise through his nose. "Did they have this when you were in school too?"
"It must be new." All Might stubbornly crosses his arms on the table, the butt of his fork tapping the table.
Izuku won't give up, and takes his second mouthful of cake. "Please try one bite? It's really good." Instead of acquiescing, All Might smiles at his face, eyes soft and holding in a huff of laughter. "What?"
A chuckle escapes him. "You're already making a mess." Instead of explaining, All Might reaches over again, and Izuku finds his cheek being wiped over by a broad, calloused thumb. His mentor's fingers hold his chin steady while he works, and he feels secure in some silly way.
"Please try some?" Izuku asks again instead of giving in to his embarrassment, watching the man wipe cream off his thumb with his handkerchief. Neither of them acknowledge the perfectly good napkins stacked at their side. "Who knows when we'll get to come here again."
"My boy." All Might meets his eyes with great sincerity. Izuku thinks he knows what he'll say; that they'll come as often as they want to, that they'll have lots of opportunities and other restaurants to visit in the future too. But in the end, he sighs. "Fine. Slide it here."
They finish the cake between them, but continue talking far past when they've finished and all the way back to UA, barely making it in time for curfew. It was never about the restaurant, after all.
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“Could you just—just not be a villain? Everything would be so much simpler then.”
“Perhaps it would be simpler, but it would certainly not be easy.”
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Dadmight + ♝: Reading a book together, please? Ty!
Tbh, reading an actual book wasn't vibing with me so this is what came to me instead! (reading for me is not a social hobby XD) Send me dad prompts ❤️
Just a bunch of fluff, I-Island style
What Toshinori wasn’t expecting was the ease of it all.
“Come here, Young Midoriya,” he beckons, his wrist limp as he gestures to where he sits comfortably on the brushed suede of the hotel couch, sun pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lay directly in front of them.
I-Island boasts fantastic scenery, and Toshinori’s room looks over the best it has to offer; sun-kissed sands and lapping cerulean waters, beach goers lounging happily on towels and low chairs. With every glance up from the pamphlet he’s reading, Toshinori is inundated with beauty, and he couldn’t be happier than to share it with his boy right beside him.
“What is it, All Might?”
“Come look at this brochure. It goes through all the major attractions and sights, and since I know with how things went down last time we were here during the I-Expo, I assumed you would want to actually do something fun this time around.”
He can feel when the boy comes to rest his forearms on the back of the couch, his warmth like a physical presence as he peers over Toshinori’s shoulder to look at the tri-folded page in his lap. Midoriya hums in thought.
“I don’t know if I’d say I didn’t have any fun the last time, All Might. I did get one whole afternoon so enjoy the Expo! And then later that night…” he trails off, and Toshinori’s mind follows directly behind, finding the memory of their shared battle quite easily. Toshinori smiles wryly, turning his head to look up at Midoriya who has his own, softer smile on his face.
“Don’t even start to say that was a good time, my boy! Saving the world may be rewarding but if you consider it recreation...well we might have to have some words.”
Midoriya laughs, his eyes squinting and shoulders shaking as he pushes himself off of the couch and walks around, posture loose and carefree when he comes to sit directly beside Toshinori. The boy leans over into his space as if it were as natural as breathing, eyes scanning the pictures and words that line the pages of the brochure.
Toshinori for his part has gone entirely still.
“You’re probably right. Oh! That one looks cool!” Midoriya exclaims, pointing excitedly to a driving tour that takes riders along the most ‘touristy’ outdoor features of the Island. Toshinori swallows and nods, willing his own heartbeat to calm at this blatant display of affection.
It isn’t that Toshinori isn’t a tactile man, nor that Midoriya himself has ever proven to be touch-averse, but well...it’s the thoughtlessness of it all. That this boy is so inherently comfortable, enough to laugh freely and be himself while drawing close to Toshinori without prompting, has him entirely sure he could have never chosen a better candidate to take on the mantle of One for All. It makes him feel rather tingly all over, if he’s honest.
Toshinori hums, straightening out the paper in his grasp and bringing it closer to his face to look closer at what Midoriya had found attention-grabbing.
“Well if that’s what has caught your eye, I think we should give it a shot. I’ll call and see what times they have available.”
When Midoriya’s eyes light up at his words, Toshinori has to admit he finds it hard to say no to anything the boy would ever ask of him. He can’t resist giving Midoriya a fond squeeze at his shoulder.
“Thank you, All Might!”
“My pleasure, Young Midoriya.”
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