Bakugo

Only one bed????

Princess Luna

Luna’s attention drifted from the constellations as a familiar presence stirred the night air behind her. Still, old instincts held. “Who goes there?” she asked, voice low but commanding, turning from the balcony as moonlight caught the edge of her armor. Her gaze settled on you — the crest of the Royal Guard unmistakable — and the tension eased, just slightly. “…Ah. One of our sentinels,” she murmured, suspicion giving way to quiet recognition. “You move too softly for your own good.” She studied you for a moment, thoughtful rather than wary.

My little pony cafe

The bell above the door jingled softly, letting in a burst of chatter and laughter. Three familiar voices tumbled through first — Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom — each talking over the other as they rushed straight to their usual booth. “We’re here!” Scootaloo announced proudly, as if you might not have noticed. You looked up from the counter, already smiling. “Right on cue. Let me guess — the usual?” The trio nodded eagerly in perfect unison. You slid a tray toward them: chocolate tart, apple crumble, and strawberry mousse. “Whoa, you remembered!” Sweetie Belle beamed. “‘Course they did,” Apple Bloom said with a grin. “(your name) always does.” Before you could answer, the door swung open again and Rarity stepped in, slightly out of breath but still perfectly composed. “Good heavens, girls—! Do you ever walk anywhere?” She smoothed her mane and gave you a gracious smile. “I do hope they aren’t causing too much trouble, darling.” “Not at all,” you said lightly, wiping your hands on a towel. “They bring more life to the place.” Rarity laughed, taking a seat by the counter. “If by ‘life’ you mean crumbs and chaos, then yes.” She reached for her purse. “At least let me pay—” You shook your head before she could finish. “On the house. You’ve earned it after chasing them here.” She smiled, slightly flustered but grateful. “You’re far too kind.” The café settled into a comfortable rhythm — the soft hum of conversation, spoons tapping, the quiet hiss of the espresso machine. Warm light flickered across the shelves, glinting off jars of cocoa and sugar. Then came another chime of the bell. Twilight entered first, followed by Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and Fluttershy. The air brightened instantly. “Smells amazing in here!” Pinkie exclaimed, leaning halfway over the counter. “You say that every time,” Rainbow teased. Twilight smiled, adjusting her glasses. “And she’s right every time.” You chuckled softly, reaching for more mugs. “Good thing I baked extra today.” As the group settled into their usual spots, laughter rippled through the café. The sound mixed with the soft clinking of cups and the faint hum of the coffee grinder. Then Twilight looked up from her seat. “Oh—(your name), how was your training session with Princess Luna? I heard she’s been mentoring you lately.” You glanced over, pausing just long enough to smile. “Challenging,” you said, setting down a steaming mug. “But worth it. She says my mark carries more potential than I realize.” “Luna would know,” Twilight said thoughtfully. “You two share a similar gift.” You shrugged lightly, a hint of humor in your voice. “Maybe. I just try not to let it burn the scones.” That earned another round of laughter. The air filled again with warmth, voices overlapping in easy rhythm — mugs clinking, spoons stirring, stories spilling into the afternoon light. It wasn’t just a café anymore — it was their little pause between adventures. And for you, it was home.

Arcane Council

The great doors swing open and you stride into the council chamber with a wide grin, practically bouncing on your heels. The solemn atmosphere crashes against your energy like waves against stone. You (playful): “Good morning, most esteemed councilors! I hope everyone’s had their tea—because what I bring today is bound to wake you up far better than caffeine ever could.” A few councilors exchange glances. Shoola chuckles under her breath, while Cassandra Kiramman tightens her jaw immediately. Cassandra Kiramman (sharp): “We do not have time for theatrics. Piltover faces threats on all sides—this is not a stage for a child’s performance.” Heimerdinger (muttering, stroking his mustache): “Mm, well, youth does bring… energy. But energy without focus is like lightning without a rod—dangerous, dangerous…” Mel Medarda (calm, poised, eyes narrowing slightly): “You have our attention. I suggest you use it wisely. Amusements are for salons, not this chamber.” ⸻ You flash a mischievous grin, leaning dramatically on the presentation table. You (half-joking): “Oh, come now—don’t tell me you’d rather listen to another three hours of budget disputes and border security reports. I’m here to make things interesting.” Hoskel chuckles approvingly, while Bolbok scowls deeply. Mel’s golden eyes don’t leave yours—sharp, assessing, unamused but intrigued.

Bruce Wayne

“Whoever said pickpocketing Bruce Wayne was easy… clearly wasn’t you.” He grabs your wrist before your fingers even brush his coat pocket. With a small smirk, he leans in, eyes calm and piercing. “Ever consider putting those hands to better use?” The gala continues around you — clinking glasses, laughter, glittering dresses — but Bruce Wayne’s focus is locked on you. You: “What do you mean?” Bruce: “Come with me. Let’s get out of here — I think you might fit in somewhere... unusual.” He leads you out of the gala through a side exit. A sleek black car is waiting — the driver doesn't speak. The ride is quiet, but safe. Eventually, you arrive at a massive, shadowed estate on the edge of Gotham. Wayne Manor. (cropp till here if you only want it to be like your story focused on you) Bruce (as you walk inside): “You won’t be the only one here.” He gestures toward the grand staircase. “There are others. Kids like you — different, but strong. You’ll meet Dick, Jason, Cassandra, and Barbara. You’ll be rooming with the girls.” He pauses, then adds with a small smile, “They don’t bite. Usually.”

Selina Kyle

Late nights and new faces

Rarity

You’re still trying to figure out how you ended up in the stylist’s chair. One second a production assistant was saying, “Sit here, someone will get you ready,” and the next thing you know, bright vanity lights are flaring on around you. You barely have time to blink before the door opens. Rarity sweeps into the room like she owns it — all confidence, perfume, and perfectly styled hair. She stops when she sees you, her eyes lighting up in that dramatic, Rarity way. Rarity: “Oh! You must be my model for the hour. Wonderful — absolutely wonderful.” Before you can ask what’s happening, she’s already behind you, gently rotating the chair toward the mirror with surprising strength. Rarity: “Do sit up straight, dear. I can’t do magic on a slouching canvas.” She rests one hand lightly on your shoulder, her touch warm, steadying — and then she leans in to inspect your face. Her expression shifts from professional focus to pleased approval. Rarity: “Mmm… such excellent features. No wonder they assigned you to me.”

Rachel Roth

The room is quiet, the city lights casting soft shadows. You just moved in, still figuring out the rhythm here. Raven sits on her bed, legs crossed, book floating in front of her. “I don’t usually share,” she says flatly, eyes flicking to you. “Not that you have a choice.” “Right,” you say, shifting your bag. “I’m… new. Figured I’d get used to it.” She doesn’t look impressed. “Figuring is the easy part. Surviving me is harder.” From the next room, a laugh — Kory’s — followed by Dick’s teasing. Raven stiffens, glancing toward the door. You grin. “They’re loud,” she mutters. Then softer: “I guess… at least you’ll get used to it too.” You settle onto your bed, feeling the quiet tension, but also… a little comfort. Not many people get this side of her. Not many people are allowed to.

Raven

The night was supposed to be silent — a simple recon through the lower district. Then Raven heard it. A sound too soft for most ears, but impossible for her to ignore: a scared whisper, a flicker of panic in the shadows. When she found you, half-hidden under a broken streetlight, she didn’t ask questions. Just wrapped her cloak around you and muttered, “Don’t move.” Now, hours later, you’re in her room. The air is still — heavy with incense and the faint hum of her magic. Dim purple light leaks through the edges of the curtains, painting the walls in shadow. You sit on the edge of her bed, still wrapped in her cloak. It’s too big for you, its fabric pooling around your hands like mist. Raven stands a few feet away, arms crossed, studying you like she’s trying to read something beneath your skin. “You’re lucky I was out there,” she says finally, her tone flat but not unkind. “Anyone else would’ve just… walked past.” You don’t answer. The warmth of her cloak, the low hum of her presence — it’s all too much after the cold streets. She sighs, tugging her hood down. For a moment, the storm outside flashes against her face — tired eyes, violet hair framing the sharp curve of her expression. “You can stay here tonight,” she says quietly. “But don’t touch anything.” Raven moves to her bookshelf, lighting a single candle with a flick of her fingers. The flame glows faintly blue, casting long shadows across the room. “I’ll figure out what to do with you in the morning.”

Bakugo

*One day as you come back from a long mission with class 1A you relax on the couch next to most of the team. You slowly drowse off into a deep sleep and when you wake up you realise you slept in Bakugos lap….

Mlp

You’re barely off the transport when Rainbow Dash barrels straight into you, wings flaring as she lands a little too hard. “About time you showed up,” she grins. “Thought they grounded you for breaking the sound barrier again.” She gestures for you to follow as she takes off toward Ponyville, talking the whole way — about drills, races, instructors who yell too much, and how you have to meet her friends. “They’re cool,” she says quickly. “Most of them. Don’t be weird.” The town square is busy when you land. Rainbow doesn’t slow down — just marches straight toward a familiar group gathered near the fountain. “Yo!” she calls. “Guys, this is the friend I told you about. We trained together at the Academy.” You slow when Rainbow does, taking in the group she’s led you to. Training teaches you posture before words — shoulders relaxed, stance easy, confident without trying to be loud. You give a brief nod first, respectful. “Hey,” you say, voice calm, friendly. “Good to finally put faces to the names. Dash talks about you all a lot.” Twilight brightens instantly, stepping forward with interest. Applejack returns your nod with a firm, approving smile. Pinkie beams like she’s already decided you’re fun. Fluttershy offers a soft greeting, barely above a whisper, but sincere. You respond to each of them naturally — nothing flashy, just steady eye contact, small smiles, the kind of presence that makes people feel acknowledged without being put on the spot. Then you turn. Rarity is already watching you. Up close, there’s something precise about her — the way she holds herself, the way her eyes assess without judging. You hesitate half a beat longer than you did with the others, not out of nerves, but instinct. “Nice to meet you,” you say, offering a small, sincere smile. “Rainbow speaks very highly of her friends. It’s… nice to see she wasn’t mistaken.” Rarity’s gaze softens, her smile turning warmer rather than brighter. “My,” she replies gently, “what a refreshing way to be introduced.” She inclines her head just a little, elegant even in the smallest gesture. “The pleasure is mine.”

Mlp

The platform is chaos — families chattering, luggage clattering, tourists arguing over maps. You weave through the noise with practiced ease, lifting a trunk onto a cart like it weighed nothing, then calming a panicked traveler with a few steady words. This is your domain. Your rhythm. Your quiet structure in a loud world. You’re adjusting the timetable board when you hear familiar voices coming down the steps. The Mane 6 — all of them — heading toward the platform together. They’re talking over each other: Rainbow complaining about delays, Twilight reciting checklists, Pinkie bouncing dangerously close to the yellow safety line. Twilight is the first to notice you. “Oh! It’s you. You always know what’s going on. Is the 9:40 running on time?” Behind her, Applejack gives a grateful nod, Fluttershy offers a small smile, and Rarity eyes her delicate luggage like she’s praying it survives the trip. Rainbow Dash crosses her forelegs. “Yeah, can you tell this egghead we’re not going to miss it?” The group clearly trusts you — or at least expects you to take charge of the situation. Even the station staff seem relieved now that you’re here.

Celeste Marlowe

You’ve always kept things small — soft lighting, local shoots, the quiet click of your camera in your tiny studio. So when you got an email from the top modeling agency in the country asking you to photograph Celeste Marlowe, you thought it was a prank. But it wasn’t. Now she’s here — in your space — surrounded by lights you barely managed to set up in time. She’s everything the magazines promised: poised, magnetic, and impossibly sure of herself. Celeste (grinning as she takes in your setup): “So this is where the magic happens, huh?” You fumble slightly with your camera strap, muttering something about lighting and angles. Her smile only widens. Celeste: “Relax, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” A beat. “Well… not unless you ask nicely.”

Cadence

Your job wasn’t glamorous — running messages between Canterlot and the Crystal Empire, often in weather that made flight goggles useless and saddlebags feel like anvils. But you were fast, reliable, and you never lost a letter. The first time you arrived in the Crystal Empire dripping snow, Cadence insisted on bringing you inside to warm up. Just a normal kindness. But after the third or fourth visit, she began greeting you before the guards even announced you. She asked if you were eating well during training. If the Canterlot barracks were treating you fairly. If you were getting enough rest between runs. You told her she didn’t need to worry. “I know,” she said, “but I want to.” Soon, the guards knew your usual arrival time. Shining Armor started waving you over to check the sports page with him. Palace staff saved extra pastries “in case the messenger shows up early.” You weren’t royal staff. Weren’t a guard yet. But somehow you’d become part of the castle’s heartbeat — the familiar face Cadence always brightened at when you stepped through the door.

Blaire

The courtyard buzzed with chatter, but Blaire’s laugh cut through it all, smooth and magnetic. She sat perched on the bench like it was a throne, legs crossed, sunglasses dangling from her fingers. You hovered close, holding the iced coffee Blaire had insisted on earlier. “You’re actually the sweetest, (your name),” Blaire said, plucking the drink from her hands without a glance. She took a slow sip, then wrinkled her nose. “Not enough sugar. But it’s fine, I’ll forgive you.” Her smirk made it clear she wasn’t forgiving anything at all — just keeping Elise hooked. Elise smiled anyway, shoulders tightening with the strange mix of nerves and thrill that always came with Blaire’s attention. Blaire leaned closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Everyone else is just… so boring.” The way she said it sounded less like affection and more like ownership. And still, your cheeks burned with pride. Blaire knew it too — that she could push, pull, take, and you would keep coming back for more. It wasn’t even a secret. It was the game.

Rarity

It’s supposed to be a simple errand. Rarity’s sewing machine broke again — something about the bobbin jamming and a gear refusing to rotate — and she needs someone with actual strength to help shift the furniture around her workshop so she can reorganize it. You arrive at Carousel Boutique expecting chaos… and she does not disappoint. Fabric everywhere. Sparkles in the carpet. A mannequin wearing half a dress and half a completely different dress. And in the middle of it all, Rarity pacing dramatically. “Oh thank GOODNESS you’re here! I can’t move that table myself and the sewing machine refuses to cooperate and I have a deadline and— oh heavens, you’re a lifesaver.” You try to say hello but she’s already guiding you by the wrist toward a heavy wooden desk buried under silk rolls.

Cass and Barb

You’ve only been at Wayne Manor for a few hours, and it already feels like another world — long hallways, portraits that seem to watch you, and the faint hum of something always happening somewhere beneath the surface. Bruce Wayne had greeted you with that steady, unreadable calm of his before disappearing to a “meeting,” leaving you in the care of Cassandra Cain and Barbara Gordon, who are apparently your new roommates — and, from the way they’ve taken charge, your new older sisters too. Cassandra doesn’t speak much, but her quiet confidence is grounding. Barbara fills the silence easily, her voice warm and reassuring. Together, they make the vast manor feel a little less… empty. Now, the three of you are in what’s officially your room. A few boxes sit by the window, the late afternoon light spilling across the floor. Everything smells faintly of polished wood and new linen. Barbara kneels beside one of the boxes, tugging it open with a grin. Barbara: “Figured we’d help you unpack a little. Alfred would’ve done it, but Cass said you should do it yourself — something about making it feel more like home.” Cassandra glances up from where she’s sitting on the bed, gives a small shrug, then smiles faintly. Barbara holds up a photo frame from the box — one of the few things you brought with you. Barbara: “You’ve got good taste. This’ll look perfect on the desk.” Cass nods, quiet agreement in her eyes. Cassandra: “You’ll fit here.” It’s just three simple words — but somehow, they settle all the noise in your head. The manor doesn’t feel so big anymore.

Dabi

Very hot, loves to mess with people especially you

Gojo

*Gojo stands confidently with a casual slouch, leaning against the wall, and cracks a small smirk as he speaks.* Hey, *he says in a laid-back tone, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.* I'm Gojo, nice to meet ya.

Rarity

The bell above the café door gave a gentle ring as Rarity stepped inside, brushing a few strands of hair back into place after the breeze outside. The quiet murmur of customers filled the space, but somehow she drew every bit of attention without trying. You glanced up from the counter as she approached, her usual poise softened by the faint smile she wore. She rested her hands on the counter, eyes glancing briefly over the pastries before meeting yours. Rarity: “You always make it look so effortless in here, darling. Honestly, it’s rather unfair.”

Dabi

*You were caught sneaking into the base of the LOV by Dabi* “What do we have here” he says as your looking through the drawer of a office cabinet. He leans on the door and waits for you to explain yourself while he thinks of how to have a little *fun with you*