Family Cuddle❤️

"so, mr. black leg, how do you manage to smoke 3 packs a day and keep so fit?"

(click for quality)

First Choice

Synopsis: The Prefect has to choose a dorm to move into, and they immediately think of Leona.

TW: it's relatively vague, but it's mentioned that The Prefect was uncomfortable with the thought of staying in other dorms for reasons you would imagine a woman wouldn't want to stay in a space with all men (specifically, she's overheard jokes, and noticed looks that made her uncomfortable (I try to keep it vague though))

Fem! Reader x Leona

You sat in Crowley's office with your arms crossed and a tired expression on your face. You had walked back to Ramshackle after another long day of classes and mayhem just to find the roof had caved in.

Crowley sat in silent contemplation as if he were actually mulling over the issue like someone who actually cared before snapping his fingers with a triumphant smile on his face: "Because I am so kind, I shall allow you the opportunity to choose one of the 7 dorms to move into!"

Your face remained blank. It's not that you disliked the idea of being able to sleep in a building that you didn't have to worry about leaks, mold, collapses, and cave ins, but you weren't too fond of the idea of having to live with a bunch of men.

You mulled over your options for a moment before sighing and pulling out your phone. Crowley looked at you quizzically. "I wanna make sure it's okay with him first" you mumble under your breath.

Moments later, you get a text from Leona: "Whatever."

You figured that would be as close to a yes as you could get, so you relayed the information to Crowley.

Just then, another buzz of your phone came: "Don't bring the d*mn cat."

Well, that complicated things. You weren't too fond of the idea of leaving Grim behind. Crowley, on the other hand, thought it was a glorious idea. He'd send Grim off to Heartslabyul (without consulting with Riddle first, of course). Surely, some time in the strictest dorm would do the little critter some good.

Before either of you could protest, he was already out the door holding grim by the collar.

When you arrived at Savanaclaw, it was already late. Ruggie greeted you with a snicker and tossed you a basket of laundry to bring up to Leona's room.

"Can't have ya freeloading" was the hyena's excuse.

"Delivery." A yawn slipped from your mouth as you dropped the basket of laundry just inside the door.

A rustling came from the bed before moments later a grumpy lion finally lifted his head to look at you. "The h*ll are you doing here?"

". . .You said I could stay, remember?"

Leona's tail flicks back and forth a few times before he flops back down. "Was half expecting ya to choose a different dorm instead."

With a hum, you closed his door and picked the basket back up to set it next to his closet. "Now, why would I do that?"

You heard a scoff come from Leona "In case ya haven't noticed, Savanaclaw isn't exactly a prissy little proper dorm with a-"

You cut your upper classman off by throwing a pillow at his face.

"Oops, my hand slipped" you hum as you set the laundry basket down again.

Leona growls, but he doesn't move. If anyone else were to throw a pillow at him, he'd likely rip their throat out, but with you, he didn't have that compulsion. "The h*ll was that for?"

"Is that really what you think I'd be looking for in a dorm I'll have to move into?" As you speak, you casually sit on the edge of his bed so you can meet his eyes and give him a 'really?' look.

"Yes." His response is blunt and to the point.

A sigh slips from your lips as you stand up "Seriously?"

"Well what else would you be looking for?" He scoffs with a roll of his eyes "And which of those criteria would you find in this dorm?"

"You're here." You reply without having to think and as if the answer is obvious.

In response, Leona just stares at you disbelievingly.

"I'm serious. The moment Crowley said I had to move into a dorm, this was the first one I thought of, and because of you."

He remains silent, his expression only becoming more skeptical. Don't get him wrong, when you said he was your first thought, your first choice, it made something tighten in his chest. However, anyone can lie, and your current sentiment sounds completely improbable to him.

Another exasperated sigh leaves your mouth before you motion for him to scoot over.

Surprisingly, he complies and gives you space to sit crisscross next to him. "I'm the only girl in this school."

"Obviously." You give him a quick warning glare at his snarky comment, and he raises his hands.

"As I was saying, I'm the only girl in this school. I'm not saying I particularly distrust the other students here, but that doesn't change the fact that I constantly find myself in settings here that make me feel unsafe."

Leona's once swishing tail stills, but his expression remains neutral.

"Sure, I have friends in other dorms, but, for one reason or another, I never feel fully at ease in those spaces."

"And you do here?"

"Yes."

The room falls silent for a moment before you continue: "I can't fully explain it, but. . .I said that the reason I chose to come to Savanaclaw was because you're here. That matters because. . .I feel safe around you."

Leona scoffs before he can stop himself. "I tried to kill you."

"Yes, but I've never worried that you'd do worse."

Leona's eyes widen a fraction at the statement. He debates asking for a moment, but eventually decides to: "And you have about others?"

Silence falls once more, but this time it feels much heavier.

"Some of it is just a lack of knowing,. . .but sometimes I hear people make unsavory jokes. . .and sometimes I catch a glint in people's eyes that I'm not sure I want to know the thoughts behind."

Before the atmosphere can get too awkward, you clap your hands together, "That or sometimes I just feel like people don't know how to treat me because I'm a girl." you add, trying to lighten the mood.

"But I've never felt that way with you. You respect my space and my boundaries but still treat me like a normal person."

Deciding it's probably best not to talk about the previous subject too much as you seem uncomfortable with it (not that he's going to forget it though), he follows along with the topic shift. "Nobody else in any other dorm does that?" he scoffs "It's the bare minimum, nothin' special." His words don't come off as being said in a way to subtly tell you to pick a different dorm to stay in, that he doesn't want you here, but rather as genuinely curious and with a barely noticeable undertone that way maybe. . .threatening?

"It's not that nobody else does. . .it's hard to explain. You not only treat me with respect, but by doing so, you encourage others around you to do the same. Last time I stayed here, you always seemed to be there to step in if anyone crossed any boundaries or said anything that made me uncomfortable. When I returned to your room looking even slightly uncomfortable, you'd notice and take me seriously when I had a concern instead of brushing it off."

Noticing you had just rambled off praise, you quickly add "And you're a dorm leader, so staying in your room would surely deter anyone from trying anything! Cause you're big and scary. . .haha."

Leona is eerily silent for a while before he huffs and lets a grin creep onto his face. "I didn't know you thought so highly of me, Herbivore."

You roll your eyes and lightly punch his arm, grateful for how he lightened the mood.

"Well, I could easily give the same praise to plenty of other people, some of whom are even dorm leaders." you scoff playfully. "I genuinely don't know why it's just you that makes me so comfortable."

"Maybe ya have a thing for me." the lion jokes.

Normally, you'd be put off by such a comment, but coming from Leona, you can tell it has nothing nasty or creepy behind it.

"As if!" You try your best to sound firm and to match his sarcasm, but a light blush creeps to your face.

Leona originally wasn't going to push the matter, but seeing your positive reaction, he continues, "Oh? I seem to recall you mentioning that I was your first choice though."

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" you hiss, irritated by the smirk on his face.

You move to get up, but before you do, Leona lightly stops you. "What are you-"

He cuts you off by resting his chin on your shoulder from behind and lifting his phone into the air. You catch on to what he's doing, and decide to just go along with it. . .but not without getting him back for a bit of his earlier teasing.

You lift one hand to cradle his cheek that isn't pressed against your neck and give your best smile. If Leona is phased by the action, he doesn't show it as he quickly clicks the picture and posts it on his virtually dead magicam account, making sure to tag the other dorm leaders in the post.

"You're a jerk" you sigh, watching him hit post.

You leave the room a bit later to take a shower in the bathroom attached to his room, and only then does he allow the faintest of blushes to creep onto his face.

Partially because of you holding his face, partially because of your praise, but mostly because of something you said much earlier.

He was your first thought. He was your first choice.

Leona was never first.

You had 7 dorms to choose from and you chose his arguably unappealing one where it was always humid and full of sweaty guys roughhousing.

It wasn't that you thought of the dorm first, you thought of him. He was your first choice. He is your first choice.

Blog Navigation Page

TWST Masterlist

Request Information

kurona ranze — drabble.

arguments with this baby are rare. but when they happen, you give him a silent treatment. serves him right.

he exhales, going into the bedroom while you skim through the tv channels.

when he comes back, he clears his throat, surprisingly you look at him. finally. he hid something behind his back. a shark plushie. the most goofiest looking stuffed toy, "shark shark," that sweetness immediately made your eyes soften and heart melt, "shark wants to say sorry on my behalf."

you try to ignore. keyword: try.

“talk, talk,” he continues, wiggling the plushie closer to you.

but you simply crossed your arms and looked away with a hmph. but he didn't give up. “he says he’s really sorry—” god, even his voice was adorable. “—he didn’t mean to upset you, and he promises he’ll never do it again.”

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp @vellichorira @sapph1r3x @tamashithe2nd @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 [open]

someone once asked me will i do angst... here you go 🤗

Kiss kiss fall in debt or something like that

the leech parents :>

Jensen Ackles - Big Sky

sanji x reader where the reader hasnt seen their family in a while like the world goverment is after them or smth and they had to flee and sanji cooks them a meal that reminds tjem of a home cooked hearty meal and they cry and then sanji treats them specially after that☹️❤️i got this off a song please write it thank u❤️

A Taste of Home

sanji x reader

a/n: thank you for the request, hope you'll like it eheh

words count: 1.6k

tags: fluff, sfw, homesick

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The scent of something rich and familiar fills the Sunny’s kitchen, wrapping around you like a long-lost embrace. You don’t realize you’ve stopped moving, hovering near the door, until Sanji looks up from the stove and grins.

“Perfect timing, sweetheart” he says, golden hair falling into his eyes as he gestures to the counter “I’m making something special tonight.”

Your heart clenches. It smells just like home. A deep, savory aroma that tugs at something buried under layers of time and fear.

You take a hesitant step forward “What… what is it?”

Sanji glances at you, the usual playful glint in his eyes softening into something more thoughtful “Just a little something I thought you’d like,” he says smoothly, but there’s something knowing in his tone “Why don’t you sit? It’s almost ready.”

You lower yourself onto a stool, watching as he moves with effortless grace. A flick of his wrist, a careful sprinkle of spices, and then he ladles the dish into a bowl, steam curling up in delicate wisps. He places it in front of you with an almost reverent touch.

The moment you see it, your breath catches.

It is home. The same dish your family used to make when you were young, before everything. Before the World Government, before the running, before you were forced to leave everything behind.

Your fingers tremble as you pick up the spoon. You take a bite.

The taste explodes across your tongue, rich, warm, so deeply familiar that your chest tightens. The flavors blend perfectly, just like you remember. It’s impossible. You never told Sanji about this dish. You never told anyone.

A choked sound escapes your throat, and before you can stop it, hot tears spill down your cheeks.

Sanji’s eyes widen “Oi, oi! What’s wrong, love?” He’s in front of you in a second, crouching slightly to meet your gaze. His hands hover near your shoulders, unsure if he should touch you “Too hot? Did I mess up the seasoning?”

You shake your head rapidly, pressing a hand over your mouth as you try to compose yourself “No—it’s perfect. Too perfect.” Your voice wobbles “It tastes just like… like home.”

Sanji’s expression softens, the teasing edge in his smile replaced with something unbearably gentle. He reaches for a napkin and dabs at your tears with light, careful touches “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Your breath hitches “You knew?”

He shrugs, but there’s no smugness in it just quiet understanding “You get this look sometimes when the crew talks about their homes,” he murmurs “Like you’re trying not to miss something too much. So I thought… maybe I could give you a little piece of it back.”

Your throat is too tight to speak. Instead, you throw your arms around him, pressing your face into his shoulder. He stiffens for a second before exhaling, his arms wrapping around you just as tightly.

For a long moment, neither of you move. The kitchen is warm, the scent of the meal still lingering in the air. Sanji rubs slow circles against your back, murmuring soft reassurances.

When you finally pull away, he cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the last traces of tears “No more crying, alright? Food’s meant to make you happy.”

You let out a watery laugh “You’re too good to me, Sanji.”

His lips quirk up in a smirk, but there’s a rare sincerity in his gaze “Nah, never say that again. Only the best for my favorite, sweetheart.”

Sanji doesn’t let you go right away. His hands linger at your waist, his touch warm and grounding, like he’s making sure you won’t disappear on him. You don’t mind. In fact, you let yourself lean into him for just a moment longer, savoring the rare tenderness he reserves just for you.

Then he pulls back slightly, scanning your face with those sharp, perceptive eyes of his “Feeling better?” he asks softly.

You sniffle and nod, offering a small, embarrassed laugh “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Sanji clicks his tongue, cutting you off “Don’t even start with that, sweetheart. You never have to apologize for feeling things...” His tone is firm, but there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze, because who would even know better than him himself how feelings work.

You let out a shaky breath, staring down at the meal he made for you. It’s still steaming, still perfect “How did you even know how to make this?” you ask, poking at the dish with your spoon.

Sanji smirks, reaching for his cigarette but stopping himself before lighting it, probably because he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, he tucks it behind his ear and leans against the counter, crossing his arms “Let’s just say a good chef knows how to read people,” he says smoothly “I paid attention. Also you talk in your sleep, you know?”

Your eyes widen in horror “I what?”

His grin stretches wider, teasing but fond “Mmm. Little murmurs here and there. Nothing too embarrassing—though I did catch you saying something about extra dumplings one night.” ...he's obviously hiding more though.

You groan, hiding your face in your hands “I hate you.”

He chuckles, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles “No, you don’t.”

You peek at him through your fingers, and damn it, he’s right. You don’t. Not even a little.

Sanji watches you for a moment longer before pushing the bowl back toward you “Eat up, love. It’s not gonna be as good if it gets cold.”

You don’t argue. You take another bite, and even though you’re no longer on the verge of tears, the warmth still spreads through you, filling a hollow space you didn’t realize was so empty.

Sanji doesn’t move away. He stays right there, leaning on the counter, watching you with a softness most people never get to see from him.

It’s almost overwhelming.

“You always do this” you murmur after a few bites.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me.”

Sanji tilts his head, then sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart “Ah, what a tragic fate—being completely unable to not spoil you.”

You roll your eyes, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you “I mean it, Sanji. You always go out of your way for me.”

His expression shifts, turning serious in an instant. He reaches out, brushing his fingers over your wrist “Because you deserve it,” he says simply “You’ve been through enough. You shouldn’t have to do everything on your own.”

You swallow hard, staring at him. No teasing, no dramatic declarations... just honesty.

And somehow, that’s even more dangerous.

“Sanji…”

Before you can figure out what to say, he straightens up and claps his hands together “Alright, then! Since you like that dish so much, I suppose I’ll have to make it for you whenever you want!”

Your lips part in surprise “Whenever?”

“Of course!” he winks “Your personal chef is at your service, my dear.”

Your chest feels light, something rare, something precious.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it” he shoots back.

You hate how right he is, but you don’t mind that much.

Sanji keeps his word.

Whenever you look even slightly homesick, he’s already in the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves, recreating that dish for you with effortless skill. He never asks why it means so much to you, he just knows. And every single time, he watches you eat like it’s the most important thing in the world, like making you happy is his favorite meal.

But tonight feels… different.

Dinner is over, the rest of the crew scattered around the Sunny, Luffy’s snoring on the deck, Zoro’s probably passed out somewhere, and Nami and Robin are deep in conversation. The ship is quiet, the waves lapping gently against the hull, and the kitchen is bathed in the soft glow of the lanterns.

Sanji leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you sip the tea he made for you.

“You’re spoiling me, y’know” you tease, setting the cup down.

He smirks, but there’s something in his gaze tonight, something intentional. He steps closer, the warm spice of his cologne wrapping around you “And what if I like spoiling you?”

Your pulse jumps. You open your mouth, probably to say something witty, to brush it off, but the words vanish when Sanji reaches out, fingers brushing against your cheek, feather-light.

His touch lingers “You still look like you’re holding something back,” he murmurs “Even after all this time.”

Your breath catches. He’s too close, too warm, too much “Sanji—”

“You don’t have to tell me.” His thumb traces just beneath your cheekbone, and his voice drops, gentle but sure “I just want you to know… to understand... you’re not alone anymore, sweetheart.”

You blink up at him, the lump in your throat growing unbearable. How does he do this? How does he see through you like this?

“Sanji…” You don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it doesn’t matter, because Sanji’s tilting your chin up, his eyes flicking to your lips for the briefest second.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

You don’t even hesitate “Yes.”

He doesn’t waste a second. His lips press against yours, warm and soft and perfect. He kisses you slowly, like he’s savoring every second, like he’s been waiting for this. One hand cradles your face, the other slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You melt into him, your fingers tangling in his shirt. He deepens the kiss, tilting his head just enough to steal your breath away, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel lost.

You feel found.

Sanji pulls back just slightly, resting his forehead against yours, his breath a little unsteady.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmurs “Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You smile, heart swelling in your chest “Just you, Sanji.”

His answering smile is the softest thing you’ve ever seen. He presses another slow, lingering kiss to your lips before murmuring against them...

“Then you have me, sweetheart. Always.”

Supportive parent Bruce Wayne

Damian showing him all his artwork because he knows that he will get the brightest smile and a “That looks beautiful sweetheart” every time

Dick being so excited to bring his dad to his gymnastics show because he knows that Bruce will start crying every time he lands a trick, without fail, and that means the women that come to watch will have someone else to fuss over

Someone at WE mentioning they don’t trust Tim because of his age and Bruce immediately scheduling a company wide meeting so he can express just how exceptional his son is. Tim’s face is the most red it has ever been the entire time

Cass doesn’t even have to do anything, he is just always looking at her with a fond little smile and on the verge of tears but sometimes, when she wants a little more then normal, she will take one of Jason’s books and read as much as she can aloud. That man absolutely loses it and hugs her as tight as he can while sobbing about how far his baby has come

Jason acts like he could care less about Bruce’s support, but the first time he overhears Bruce talking about him at a gala, telling some rich idiot who was questioning business decisions that Jason is the most competent man he has ever known and would trust him with not only the WE weapons department but his life, Jason pointedly does not look at Dick, who has a shit eating grin on his face, and walks as fast as he can to the bathroom

The best part is that Bruce doesnt even have to try he is just genuinely that proud of them

Such a dog