#THEIR HAIR IS SO UGLY I AAAA....

[squishosaur]

me and my beautiful wife who makes the worst jokes in the world and also wants to violently & mercilessly revolt against the upper class <333

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Just a little something I've written at work bcs I finished everything already aaaa

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, poisoning, gn!reader

Yandere!Vil who, everytime you go out with your friends or go on a date with an undeserving, ugly boy, makes you a smoothie. It's the best smoothie you ever had. And while you love to drink and would love to ask for a seconds, Vil denies you. Because isn't healthy or something like that.

Yandere!Vil who puts a little something on the smoothies you so willing drink. Sometimes it's laxative, sometimes a harmless poison. Either way, by association, everytime you go out with your friends you feel sick. Your whole body shudders, your stomach hurts, there's a cold sweat clinging to your skin as your vision start to blur. And your friends only think you're lying about because you don't want to hang out with them anymore, so they just don't invite you anymore.

Yandere!Vil who wipes your tears because you don't know why you're getting sick so often and because of how frustrating it is that your so called friends started to ghost you with no reason. Also yandere!Vil who tells you that if they're ghosting you just because of this they aren't truly your friends.

Yandere!Vil who offers you another smoothie with a antidote. So whenever you are with him, you don't feel sick, in fact, you are healthier than ever, your skin is glowing, your hair is shiny, nothing hurts. And so you think it's because Vil is your safe haven, the one who shields you from everything and everyone. And you are so far from the truth, it's kind of adorable to him.

[fisbybaconey]

Summary of Tomodachi Tower: 10 june - 20 june

10 JUNE: In continuation of previous post, I dont letting PizzaHead to date me since im taken, then im seeing VIGILANTE HAD CRUSH ON NOISETTE, thus im happily spam screenshot to the point THE GAME FUCKING CRASHED, AND I DONT EVEN GET THE FUCKING SCRREENSHOOT WHHAT THE FUC- Okay move on to the saved timeline, This time its failed and PizzaFace and Me officially broke up. However, Noise got feelings for Noisette and confesses with wedding ring, He succeed!

11 june: Peddito Calzone attempts to date the Noise twice, fails horribly to the point he's having depression and i need to send him to Germany :')

Vigilante meanwhile havin crush (AGAIN?) on Noisette, confesses, and also get Rekt, so i also send him to France. Look at this mf bruhh he's posing like that "Sparkle on!" Jerma meme

12 june: NOISECOUPLE WEDDING NOISECOUPLE WEDDING RAAAAHH, FINNALY THE FIRST COUPLE WHO ACTUALLY GOT MARRIED YAAAAS!!!!

(Wait why tf im standing beside my ex?)

Wow, PizzaHead. Right a day after my breakup, you decide to hit me now? yknow you could wait late right-

Were couples now and still havin healthy relationship (kinda plannin for marriage but were not ready yet-)

13 june: Snotty how the fuck-

yea, Peddito accepts and became Gayass couple. The End.

14 June: Somehow, Froisette suddenly and single-handedly summons her anime harem gurl wtf- anyway She picks Peppino wuuuuuuhhtt?

Vigilante, for TWO FUCKING TIMES YOU FALL FOR A GAL WHO'S ALREADY TAKEN, LIKE DUDE PEPPINA AND PIZZA GRANNY STILL SINGLE BRUHHH-

Snotty wants me hear his yapping abt how beautiful Peddito's voice is

15 june: NOISECOUPLE'S FIRST CHILD. HER NAME'S SARAH. THEY CHOOSE THAT NAME. IF YALL FUCKING COMPLAIN, LOOK AT ME IN EYES AND TELL ME HOW THE FUCK YOU CALL SARAH FUCKING UGLY-

17 June: oh look apparently The Noise is hotter than Peppino!

Peppino, i didnt remember we bake shortcake on frying pan-

Seeing how TomoTower Isand had lackin any Romance lately, I, Fisby Baconey had paired Peppina Spaghetti wiith Phil Pepperman-

Nevermind, they went "just friend" bruh...

18 june: Gustavo failed to rizzing up Granny /srs

Tomato topping, youre still a minor...also Maurice, even though Sausage's hair covers ur hand doesnt mean i couldnt see that raised sleeve of yours Murice, DO YOU STILL FUCKING LISTEN WHAT DID SNOTTY SAY? DO YOU WANNA COMMIT INCEST ON PEPPINO WTF-

20 june: Happy birthday snotty XD

Pepperman accidentally commits love triangle, reject both and causes Peppina crying her ass i neeadta give her vacation aaaa- also she goin to germany (wth its been 3 times im seein my mii goin to Germany wat-)

[turvuren]

YELRUT SWAP DOCTOR/PATIENT CoNTINUE pLEASE????

BC I'M TERRIBLY WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED- And what will happen next...

cw kidnapping... whumpy stuff

Rutile coughs. Her lungs aren't used to the stuffy basement air... and god; she needs her fix, her prescriptions - she left them at home. She's already feeling the withdrawal symptoms kicking in, the headache, the nausea and the sneezing. Her eyes are itchy. She can't tell if that's from the basement mold and whatnot or if it's withdrawals.

Rutile coughs, again. Her throat is dry enough for it to hurt. She pulls against the metal chains that bind her ankles and wrists to the far wall. If Yellow's a doctor, what the hell does he need all this for?

The thought scares her.

The door to the basement swings open, and she sees the familiar lab coat on a nice set of shoulders. Rutile isn't used to the light and her headache spikes up as it enters her field of vision. But through all that, she can see the smil stretching his ugly lips. Rutile wants to vomit.

"Hey, puppy."

Rutile wants to get out of these chains more than anything now. Wants to get home, to her husband Padparadscha and just... live her life. But fuck that, she needs her meds now more than anything, actually.

"Ah, ah..." she blubbers. Her tongue feels numb. Her broken leg is healing nicely. Or at least she thinks it is? Is it even broken? Her mind is so... fuzzy. Jumbled... up. "Hnn, aa..."

Yellow laughs as he descends the wooden stairs. "Oh, look at you, so cute..." he approaches her, shrugging off his coat as it pools on the ground. Yellow crouches to get down on her level. His hand grabs her jaw, tilting her head to the side as the doctor inspects his patient. "Hm. Withdrawals. Your pupils... interesting," he mumbles incoherently.

Yellow pulls away. He takes out a familiar bottle and Rutile immediately reacts. Her tongue feels useless and all she can manage are animalistic sounds.

"Aaa...! Aaaa!"

"Oh, you want this, Rutile?" he shakes the bottle around. "No. Not until you learn how to behave. Look, look at the red marks all over your wrists, your ankles. It's a good thing I gave you all those painkillers, hm?" Yellow kicks her knee, the one where he broke the leg. Rutile doesn't scream. She doesn't feel anything. "See? Or else... you probably wouldn't have struggled as much..."

"Aaa! Aaa!" Rutile begs, wanting her fix, wanting it, please please please.

"Ah-ah-ah," Yellow tuts. "Stay back down, puppy. You need to earn it."

He undoes his belt, and the fly of his pants, getting up and positioning his crotch right in front of Rutile's face. His hand on her hair, tugging it with enough force it feels like her scalp is going to rip right off.

Rutile obediently opens her mouth.

[breezypunk]

aaaa I don't know if you're still open to these, but uhm... number 7 maybe, if you haven't done it already? 👉👈

thank you! &lt;;3

soft otp prompts here

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

7- Write about one member of your ship asking the other to dance with them.

"Dance with me, V." Goro held his hand out to Vaughn who was sprawled out on the couch, eyes bloodshot red from the hours of crying he'd been doing.

Vaughn's anxiety was next level, he hadn't felt it in such a long while, his brain was in a fog, hardly able to tell what was going on, but Goro being Goro asks him to dance.

"Wow." Was all he could say. He breathed heavily, staring at Goro's hand, still stretched out towards him. Man he was a gonk, but it was so endearing. He really was so bad at this stuff, even six years into their relationship and Vaughn couldn't help but chuckle in moments like this, even if he was in such a funk, Goro tried so hard, he always tried so hard.

His ears finally started tuning in to the sounds around him, music was playing on the radio, his favorite.. Goro knew everything, didn't he?

"Fine.." He sighed slowly, sitting up and looking around the room in an attempt to bring himself back to reality. Goro's hand never faltered, he'd wait all night for Vaughn if he needed to, that was just the type of person he was, willing to wait for him, willing to understand that sometimes it took time to become comfortable with your surroundings after dealing with the high amounts of anxiety Vaughn had been dealing with, and not just at that moment, but for so many years.

He felt embarrassed and little awkward once he stood facing Goro directly. His eyes were still bloodshot red, his face was a mess, the little strands of hair were sticking to his forehead and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, which wasn't entirely untrue. He felt Goro's one hand wrap around his lower back lazily, just to pull him in a little closer, just so Vaughn could feel the warmth of Goro's body.

He really needed this.

"You do not need to say a word, V.. Just dance with me is all. Let it all go." Goro was right, Vaughn really did need to let it all go. His anxiety and depression stretched back to when he lost Johnny for good, for when he lost Jackie, for when he was mocked and made a laughing stock of the Bakker clan, it always piled up on him all at once until he completely lost it. But there was Goro, being the best he could possibly be, always dealing with Vaughn's outbursts, always right there when Vaughn ugly cried, when he could barely breathe, when he felt the world toppling over him twenty times over.

Goro didn't always understand what went on in Vaughn's brain, his thoughts and feelings were all over the place, but one thing Goro did know is that he wasn't going anywhere, and even if one silly dance could take the pain away even for just a brief moment, he was going to do it. He was going to slow dance with his lover in the middle of their living room, half naked, to their favorite songs all night if it meant that Vaughn would at least smile once, it's all Goro ever wanted.

Vaughn laid his head on Goro's shoulder and began to lose himself to the music, while also letting himself completely melt into Goro's arms, he felt incredibly lucky, and knew that he'd be okay for the rest of the night. He felt little pecks of kisses streaming down his neck and let out a small snort, how did Goro know how to do this so effortlessly?

Vaughn knew that even in his darkest moments he'd be okay, and even if it took a while to realize it, he knew, he just knew. Maybe all he needed was a dance, and maybe he'd start requesting them more often, Goro definitely wouldn't mind.

[h4zardousch3micals]

Performance of a lifetime • 6

First • Previous • Next

Well, folks, with this part we're officially 25% of the way through the fic. I'm genuinely amazed that I managed to keep to the project for this long and I hope I'll be able to continue it to completion!

Have a useless fun fact: This was originally meant to be part 1, but I pushed it forward so there would be more time to develop the characters

———

It was the night they'd all been waiting for.

Loodvigg stared blankly at himself in the mirror, occasionally moving to adjust one of his neck feathers or smooth over a strand of hair that had somehow escaped the neatness of his red-streaked-pink locks.

In his peripheral, he spotted the poster Scaratar had given him earlier, attached to the corner of the mirror frame with a thumbtack. He wasn't entirely sure what compelled him to keep it, but he was starting to regret it. That weird, ugly version of him on the poster almost seemed to stare at him; a constant reminder that the pressure was on.

All around him, the backstage room was in a state that some might call: chaos. He could vaguely hear Galvana and Vhamp running amok, knocking over everything in their path; Attmoz arguing over something trivial with one of the workers; Glaishur quietly trying (and failing) to convince him to stop; Blasoom honking to themselves; Syncopite and Torrt discussing what was about to happen; Hornacle - who had decided now was a good time to practice making the loudest noise possible - and Furnoss reluctantly attempting to grab Plixie from out of the air as per someone's request. Chaos.

However, one voice rang out above the rest:

"Ow! Ow! Stop - you're hurting me!" Scaratar cried as a hairbrush dragged through her fluffy mane.

"Aaaa, sorry, Scaratar," Fennec yelped. He stepped back and wobbled from side to side as he attempted to remain standing on his hind legs. "There's just this really stubborn tangle. Everything needs to be perfect or..."

"But that hurts!"

"I know, I know, but—"

Loodvigg spoke up, "Fennec, stop."

Fennec froze, then tilted his head in Loodvigg's direction, his ears stood straight up, "...Excuse me?"

"Stop." He repeated, glaring, "You're hurting her, and besides, isn't she old enough to do it herself?"

A long, tense moment. The fur on top of Fennec's muzzle wrinkled with irritation.

"I suppose." He sighed, handing Scaratar the hairbrush. She thanked him and he dropped back onto all fours. As he quietly padded away, he turned and looked back at Loodvigg. He flicked his tail, beckoning him to follow.

Cautiously, Loodvigg obliged. The pair slipped into a quiet, dark corner - behind a wooden crate - and the fox monster said in a hushed whisper, low and stern, "Loodvigg, this rebellious streak you've developed recently is getting out of hand. It's starting to infect the minds of your peers."

He peeked out from behind the box, watching the little monsters shenanigans with a thoughtful expression, "I'd stop if I were you. Audrey doesn't like rebels."

Loodvigg folded his arms and scoffed, "Ppsh! Yeah, whatever."

Fennec bristled, "I'm being serious, kid. If you know what's good for you, you'll cut this nonsense out right now."

And with that, he left, heading towards the stage entrance.

"You know, he does kinda have a point." Someone spoke, "Audrey was NOT happy last time I snuck away from chores to go paint."

Loodvigg jolted when he spotted a familiar pangolin-like monster looming over him, one arm on the crate and the other holding up their chin. They didn't seem as smug or bratty as usual, but they still weren't exactly a pleasant sight to see. He suppressed a growl, "Do you normally eavesdrop on other monsters' conversations like that?"

"No." Saira said, "Just when Fennec's ears aren't down. That's when you know he's being dead serious."

"Sure..." He narrowed his eyes.

"Hey!" They grumbled, "Whatever, we don't have time to squabble, I have an important question: is my collar crooked? I can't see it."

For emphasis, they tugged on the green-blue ruffle wrapped clumsily around their neck. It looked rather silly on such a large, scaley monster.

"If only I had a Strombone to help me..." They added quietly, almost as if they didn't want anyone to hear.

"Why don't you have one, anyway?" Loodvigg asked, "Aren't your kind, like, permanently bonded to those snails?"

They sighed, a wistful look in their teal eyes, "I was real little when I left Cold Island, don't even remember it, so I never got the chance to search for one. It's like... a little part of me is always missing."

"So you take it out on us?" He accused.

"What?" They leaned back slightly, "I don't do that!"

"Oh, really?" Loodvigg wasn't about to back down, "Then why are you always picking on us? Getting on our nerves? Just last week you were really mean to Galvana!"

"Look, buddy, I'm not... I don't..." They trailed off, their gaze not meeting his, "Just tell me if the damn collar is on straight."

He shrugged, "Looks fine, I guess."

"Great. Gotta go now." They bolted off and vanished the exact direction Fennec had.

Loodvigg sighed and shuffled back to his original spot by the mirror. Scaratar gave him a puzzled look, as though to silently ask 'what just happened?'.

"Do you think any of the stupid rules they make us follow actually matter?" He asked, "Or do you think they just want to control us?"

"When they tell us not to do something, there's usually a good reason." She said nervously, "They're here to keep us safe and make sure we do our jobs."

"Are you sure?" Loodvigg seemed puzzled, "I thought you were wondering if there was more for us out there?"

"I was, but..." She shuddered, as though remembering something, "The world is huge, and not always safe."

Before Loodvigg could reply, they were interrupted by Attmoz calling out to the rest of the group. He watched the employee he'd been arguing with go, then turned around and said, "Is everyone ready? How do you all feel?"

"Eh, alright..." Furnoss said.

"Excited!" Plixie cheered.

"A little nervous..." Glaishur added.

Attmoz reached for Glaishur's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Glaishur smiled slightly. Eventually, all eleven of the other little monsters had made some comment (or in some of their cases, a general noise) communicating how they felt, except for one.

"What about you, Torrt?" Scaratar asked. The small turtle monster stood at the back of the crowd - as though they were trying to avoid being seen - and they wouldn't look anyone in the eye. Torrt had always been rather shy, but this was a sure sign that something was wrong.

"I... I don't know... I—" They whimpered, "I'm so scared that I'm gonna mess up, that everyone's gonna get mad at me, and it'll all be my fault."

"Oh." Scaratar mumbled, their antenna drooping.

The room went quiet; everyone else wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Eventually, Loodvigg sighed and stepped forward.

"Look, Torrt." He knelt beside the tortoise monster and put a hand on their shoulder, "You're going to try your absolute best, I know it. And that's the most anyone can ask of you, so if they're not happy with it, then they can go f..."

Scaratar grimaced, and he quickly improvised, "...They can go fix themselves. You don't have to listen to them, because they don't want what's best for you."

"Oh, okay." Torrt mumbled, they were still nervous, but they seemed to be comforted by Loodvigg's speech.

"Wow, 'Viggy," Attmoz commented, "That was really sweet."

"Yeah, that cheered me up a bit, too." Glaishur added.

Loodvigg turned away and muttered something grouchy and indecipherable, but the faintest smile on his face was unmistakable.

There came a thud and a clatter, and Fennec scrambled back into the backstage area. Some of his fur was puffed up, and he seemed even more shaky than usual, "Alright, everyone, time to go. You're-you're on in five."

Attmoz stood at the front of the group as Fennec lead the way and soon they were all gathered behind an elegant, silky curtain with the slightest slither of warm yellow light peeking through. Curious, he pulled it back the tiniest bit - just enough to let his eye peek through - squinting as the bright light hit his retina.

Saira stood in the center of the rows upon rows of chairs, microphone in hand. All eyes were on them and they basking in it like a lizard on a sun-warmed boulder. They called out, "Alright, alright, monsters of all shapes and sizes, how are we feeling tonight?"

The crowd cheered in reply: hundreds of voices all blurring together into one caterwaul of excitement and anticipation.

"It seems we're in for the performance of a lifetime: it's a lovely day on Plant Island and I can see a real variety in the crowd. I reckon some of you have travelled far and wide to be here tonight, with perfectly good reason, of course." They continued, "You two there, where are you from?"

They pointed the microphone into the crowd, and the spotlight soon followed. It fell onto a pair of monsters: a Barrb wearing a hat and a Flowah with distinctive buck teeth.

"I'm from Fire Haven!" The latter said.

"And I'm from Amber Island!" The former added.

"Awww, isn't that sweet. What about you over there?" They shifted the attention to a Ghazt who's head appeared to float with no neck to be found.

"Hatched on Ethereal, moved here." She declared, receiving a few 'ooo's from the crowd."

And what about you, dear?"

The bright red PomPom just stared at them for a few seconds, before she leaned in and barked into the mic. Saira winced at the ear-grating shriek of the feedback loop.

"O—kay, then..." they continued, "Anyway, as you can all see, this group comes from far and wide. But there's one thing that ties you all together, you all know what you're here for."

"So, I'll stop babbling and let the show go on. Audrey and Co. proudly presents - a dramatic retelling of our world's most ancient history - the Celestials."

"That's your cue. Quick!" Fennec hissed. He nudged Torrt forward with his tail, and one by one the dozen little monsters trailed onto the stage. Saira slipped past them, almost tripping over Loodvigg, and vanished into the darkness once more.

All hearts were racing, all eyes were watching. This was it, the big moment.

Backstage, Fennec breathed a sigh of relief and flopped down on the floor, panting like an exhausted dog. He turned to the Strombonin as they leaned against a large box and whispered, "Thanks for covering for me, Saira. I don't know what came over me, I just, froze up."

"It was nothing." They replied half-heartedly, as though they weren't entirely listening.

In order to fill the awkward silence between them, he then asked, "Do you think they'll do well?"

"They better." Saira muttered darkly, "If they don't, Audrey will want their heads on sticks..."

[sanriolovinglittle]

SEND HELP

IF YOURE GETTING THIS ITS SCHEDULED TO POST DURING MY MATH CLASS IT JUST STARTED ITS 8:15 AND I HAVE TO BE HERE TILL 9:06 LIKE UM NTY MAAM NTY ANYWAY HELPPPP AND ITS BORUNG AND IM SMART BUT I HATE IT ITS ADVANCED MATH with Cal <3 but um ANYWAY ITS SOOOOO BORING AAAAAA AND AFTER THIS I HAVE SOCIAL STUDIES WHERE WE LEARN SHIT THAT ISNT EVEN FUN 🤢 🤮 ANYWAU THEN I HAVE SCIENCE 🧪 ❤️ THE LOML THEN I HAVE WHATS BASICALLY HOMEROOM OR SMT AND ITS USUALLU BORING AF AND THEN I HAVE ✨aRt ✨the second LOML with ma BESTIE and other crush Ky- anyway she’s cool but she’s like straight af I think and I confessed to her and she was like “that’s okay- ;-;” and I was like “…okay bye ;-;” and yeah anyway THEN I HAVE MULTI MEDIA WHERE I HAVE TO MAKE A COW WEEEE SO THATS COOL THEN I HAVE 👹lAnGuAgE aRtS👹 STFU I FUCKING HATE LANGUAGE ARTS BUT CAL’S IN IT SO ITS OKAY IG BUT HE DIESNT EVEN TALK TO ME HE NEVER DOES HES A POPULAR KID AND IM THE WEIRD KID WHOS NEW THIS YEAR WHO HAS RUNORS about HIM AND YEAH AND I MAY HAVE CALLED CAL FCKIN UGLY ONCE COS HIS FRIEND T SAID THAT CAL CALLED ME CUTE BUT CAL SAID NO HE DIDNT AND THEYLL LIE about THAT LIKE ITS A LITTLE GAME AND AO I GOT DEFENSIVE AND THEN THEY WERE ALL LIKE OOOOOO AND THEN T WENT OVER AND TOLD CALS GF HES CHEATING ON HER WITH ME AND TBIS UGLY BITCH LOOKED AT ME WITH A WEIRD FACE SO I MOUTHED THE WORD WHAT AT HER AND ROLLED MY EYES AT HER BACK INTO MY HEAD COS SHE MADE THEM BURN UGLY ASS BITCH BUT ANYWAY YEAH AHDBDJSJSN EWWW MATHHHH AAAAA GROSSS HELPPPP SHEJENE EIEJEKRNJ if you read all the way to here I have major respect for you so comment like 🥕 because it’s like Cal’s hair ❤️ anyway I’m mean to those I love like crushed but I can’t help it cos they’re JERKS MK LIKE AAAA EWWW POPULAR BOYS HSJENEJBEJ anyway if you made it here comment 🥕 bye luvs

[jeowo82jejwo28sskw]

cyborg goat girl who is also a maid for some reason

[tonberry-yoda]

Ahem, hello there beauty! I hope ur having an AAAA+ day.

Can I request scenarios / hcs/ fic or whatever you want for Bakusquad bois( if they are too much for you then Kiri and Hanta are enough!) with an affectionate female s/o who uses random and strange nicknames like ( bibu, ki ku ki and nunu ) Ik Ik you’d think they don’t make sense or v ugly but they just come out spontaneously and I can’t help it lmao

Hello!!! Of course I will take this adorable request! I am such a big fan and took my own little spin on it, so I really hope you enjoy! And I did include all of them because how could I not? Thank you so much for requesting, lovely human being!! <3

Cutesy Nicknames - Eijiro Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugou, Hanta Sero, and Denki Kaminari

Pairing - Eijiro Kirishima x f!reader, Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader, Hanta Sero x f!reader, and Denki Kaminari x f!reader

Warnings - none!

Notes - thank you again for the request, sweet anon! i hope you are having a wonderful day as well!!

I just want to thank everyone as well who follows my account or just reads any of my fics, it means a lot! have a great day everyone! i really hope you enjoy!

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

Eijiro Kirishima

"Oh my gosh, they have a new documentary about Crimson Riot!" She grabbed Kirishima's arm, pulling him over to her laptop. "They do?" "Yeah! We should totally watch it tonight, Kiki!" Kirishima turned to her with a confused expression on his face. "Kiki?" She blushed. "S-Sorry! Did I say that outloud? Oh god." "I... I actually really like it!" "Y-You do?" Both of them were blushing at this point, a bright tomato red. "Yeah! Sounds manly, dontcha think, babe?" "Yeah!" She giggled. Of course it wasn't manly, but it gave her an excuse to call him stupid nicknames more often. "So... are we still gonna watch that documentary?" Kirishima twiddled his thumbs, his face still as red as his hair. "Of course we are, Kiki." She placed a small kiss on his cheek. Little did he know, she had many more nicknames up her sleeve.

Katsuki Bakugou

"Bakubaby, you did it!!!!" She ran up to Bakugou, throwing herself in his arms. Little did she know, Bakugou was standing in complete shock, completely baffled by what she just called him. "I'm so proud of you, Katsuki!! Even if All Might punched the guts right out of you." She giggled and pulled away from Bakugou, placing a kiss on a small bruise on his cheek. It felt unfair to have teachers against students, but at least him and Deku won. That's all she could think. "What the hell did you just call me?" She thought back, tilting her head. "Huh? I just called you Katsuki, do you not-" "No, before that." Her face went bright red. She had so much adrenaline that she called him a stupid nickname. "I..." Katsuki blushed, turning his face away from her. "J-Just don't call me it again, okay, stupid?" He ruffled her hair and walked off, grabbing her hand for her to follow him. What she didn't see though was the slight smile on his face.

Hanta Sero

She put another bandaid on Sero's arm. He was always getting injured and she was the only one in class 1-A who ever had the supplies to do anything about it. She never minded though, especially since Sero was her boyfriend. "Does that feel a little better, boo-boo?" She cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb onto his cheek, which would've been romantic if he didn't burst out laughing. She crossed her arms, looking at Sero, who ended up on the floor, nearly in tears. "What's so funny?" "Did you just call me... boo-boo?!" He cracked himself up again and she turned away. "Yes! Do you have a problem with it?" To be honest, she didn't mean to say it, but she couldn't help herself. "No, no," Sero sat up, wiping a tear. "I actually like it. I just wasn't expecting it. Call me stupid stuff like that more often, okay? And uh... thanks for healing me up." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and walked out of the room, leaving her a blushing, smiling mess.

Denki Kaminari

"I don't know... that sounds a little boring." She tilted her head at her computer screen, still thinking of a date idea for her and Kaminari. "Boring?!" Kaminari threw his hands in the air, slumping down on a beanbag. "How does going rollerskating in a park sound boring?!" "I don't know. I would rather do something crazy like skydiving or roller coaster riding. I dunno." "I mean... there's a summer festival coming up if you wanna do that!" "Oh, that sounds like fun! I guess you can be good at planning, huh, Calamari!" She ran up to him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek, then getting up to write down their date on her calendar. He giggled, his face going red. "Wait... Calamari? Like the squid?" She turned around getting flustered all of a sudden. "O-Oh... uh... yeah, I... uh-" "No, I like it." Denki walked up to her and hugged her by her waist. "You're cute when you get flustered, you know that?"

[pierced-coffeeaddict]

i was doing a redraw of a drawing of me and my friends in 2017 and......... i hate my face so fucking much omg

[letterstotheflre]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍— [meaning harmony, serenity, love, positivity, hapiness] SEND ME A CHARACTER + SCENARIO AND I’LL WRITE A SFW BLURB (no angst)

jamie and reader having a pamper day where they're doing hair and face masks all day and just staying in bed and watching muggle Christmas movies

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY THIS ASK MADE ME!! i wanted to write something like this but didn’t get the time aaaa i’m so excited <33

pretty boy

warnings: none, just fluff

word count: 763

a/n: let’s consider this james potter x spoiled!pillowprincess!reader, aka my favourite dynamic with him<3

James should've stood his ground and said no when you asked him to pop his pimples. But he was too weak for you and that pretty pout that always brought him to his knees, so when you fluttered your lashes with a whiny "pleasee Jamie" he had resigned himself to be your doll for the day.

That's how he ended up splayed on the bed, his head on your lap and a fluffy pink hairband keeping his curls at bay. Under the shower cap you put on him is a mix of avocado, honey and olive oil, because according to you, his hair "desperately needs hydration, oh my god. it's like the sahara desert."

"Ow!" he whines, his fingers curling around the sheets. His eyes are closed tightly, a few tears escaping from the corners when you press that strange metal contraption against one of his nostrils. His favourite christmas movie is playing in the background, but he can't even enjoy it because of the torture he's enduring.

"Shush," you scold. "Don't be a baby."

"It hurts! What're you even doin'?"

You roll your eyes. "Taking out your blackheads," there's a bit of contempt in your voice, like you're mocking him for not knowing what a blackhead is. "You have loads, by the way. Are you even using the face wash I bought you?"

Silence. You press down on his nose again and he winces. "James!" you gripe.

"I forget!" he offers as an explanation, but it's not good enough for you.

You uncap one of your face masks, a hydrating and soothing one that will quell his parched skin and soothe the redness. “Dirty boy,” you grumble, applying the facemask with a brush and watching james’ face relax. “You’ll be all wrinkly and dry when you’re old if you don’t do as I say.”

“As long as we’re wrinkly together, I don’t mind.”

“Don’t you dare! M’skin will be youthful and beautiful forever, not a single wrinkle in sight, and everyone will wonder how an ugly thing like you got a pretty thing like me.”

James cracks one eye open. There’s a smirk on your lips, amusement shining in your eyes as you poke fun at him. But two can play that game. “Got one right there,” he points at your forehead.

You gasp, picking up your phone and using the camera as a mirror. You scan your face and sure enough, there’s a line near your hairline, caused by the dried clay mask that rests on your face. You scowl at your boyfriend and pinch his arm, “Mean. Don’t scare me like that.”

You pick up a face towel and dip it in the water bowl you left on the nightstand. James watches as you take your mask off, then appy three drops of your favourite hyaluronic acid serum and finally scoop some of your moisturizer with a tiny plastic spoon.

Jesus, the amount of products and tools you use is insane. He doesn’t know how you do it.

Then it’s his turn to be cleaned off. You repeat the process, using a new towel of course. “I’m not an unsanitary monster” you say with a disgusted face when he hands you the one you previously used. With soft pats, you apply the serum to his face and then smooth the moisturizer you bought for him yesterday.

“Pucker up,” you say, twisting out your favourite cherry chapstick. James does as you say, smacking his lips when you’re done.

“Oh, look at you! Y’re so pretty, Jamie, and your skin is glowing! Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” You coo, running the pads of your fingers over his browbone and cheekbones. “See what happens when you listen to me? I bet not even Sirius can get his skin this shiny, y’re welcome— Oh you just look so beautiful, baby.”

James blushes at your tender touch and compliments. You lean down and pepper his face with kisses, bumping your nose with his and mumble a “not a blackhead in sight” right before he raises his head slightly so that he can kiss you where he actually wants to.

It takes you by surprise, but you quickly lean into it. Both of your lips taste of cherry and something warm, something like love, and James’ heart is ready to burst. When you pull away, lips shiny with spit and chapstick, he gives you one of his gleaming smiles as he laces your fingers together and makes you swoon.

He might not like the feeling of you pulling and rubbing his skin raw, but your sweet kisses make it all better.

[sugarybitterness]

feels like home - natasha romanoff x reader

request; Hi! Can you do “You are my family.” and “You’re just a softie.” with Natasha Romanoff

word count; 1,743

warnings; brief mention of domestic abuse, bad childhood, divorce, abandonment & some black widow spoilers ‼️

a/n; my first request aaaa!! this was really fluffy and really fun to write !! i hope you all enjoy this and do let me know what you guys think <3

you never believed in fate or destiny. when you were little, your mum used to tell you beautiful stories of how meeting your dad was like fate, destiny even. you were happy, you had a family and parents that doted on you endlessly.

but one day everything changed. suddenly, your dad wasn’t home anymore. then your mum started to come home less and less. you parents went from loving you to leaving you at home alone and whenever they were home they’d be fighting.

you were 9 the first time you heard the shouting.

12 when you heard glass shattering.

14 when you heard the first smack, then the sounds of rustling, things being taken and a door slammed shut with such finality, you knew you’d be waking up to one less parent.

your mum left, divorce papers were soon sent to your home. the split itself was messy and ugly, but one thing they could agree on was that neither of your parents wanted you. so you were shipped off to some boarding school by your father. when you were 18, you entered NYU, leaving behind your pathetic excuse of a home, of a family to build your own life in new york.

you took up martial arts while in the boarding school and continued it in new york. you explored different fighting techniques and after graduating, you became a instructor at a martial arts studio.

soon, you piqued the interest of SHIELD and got offered a job as a trainer there. but when nick fury saw the way you effortlessly fought off 5 of his top agents, he knew your skills would be better utilised as an agent rather than a instructor.

again, you never believed in fate or destiny, not when your parents told you that those were the driving factors behind their love- the same love you saw fall apart right in front of you. but, you could never really find any other words to describe your first meeting with natalia alianovna “natasha” romanoff.

you’ve heard the rumours, of course you have. agent barton was supposed to kill the infamous black widow, but instead brought her back alive. you were good friends with clint, so naturally, when he decided to help a trained assassin defect to SHIELD, he was quick to ask you for help. you were hesitant and told him you’d think about it.

the next day you headed to the gym to train at 4am, not having been able to sleep since you kept toying with the idea of actually indulging clint and helping him with the black widow situation. to your surprise, the gym was not empty. instead, there was a young woman who looked to be about your age, hair pulled into a braid much like your own, punching the living daylights out of one of the many punching bags. your movements to enter the gym did not go unnoticed and when the mysterious lady turned to face you, it was if everything else ceased to exist (though granted it was 4am in the morning, it was absolutely quiet in not just the gym but the whole damn building)

the first thing you noticed, much to your slight horror, was how stunning the woman was. the way her emerald eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim lighting of the gym and moonlight, pieces of her hair that had escaped the braid framed around her face. the next thing your brain registered was that you knew this face- standing in front of you was the black widow.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know anyone else was going to be here.” a raspy voice yanked you out of your thoughts and when you saw the redhead move to grab her stuff you were quick to respond.

“it’s alright. you can stay.” your voice was steady, a far cry from the jumble of thoughts and emotions you were feeling, what the hell was wrong with you? emerald eyes widened slightly as she gently set her bag down again.

“are you sure..?” her voice was soft, a little unsure and you wondered how was it that this was the feared assassin everyone was talking about hours ago? you nodded your head, moving to put your own things down before heading to the treadmill. shortly after you started your run, you could hear her punching resume and you observed her from the mirror in front of the treadmills. her form was good, her hits were sharp and strong, it was clear she knew what she was doing. when her eyes met yours through the mirror, you were grateful for your fast reflexes that helped you regain your footing before you flew off the treadmill at your misstep. a soft snort of laughter from the russian made a small smile dance on your lips as you continued your run. needless to say, you agreed to help clint with training natasha.

that was many years ago and now, you were about to meet natasha’s family. not her avengers family but her childhood family. the sokovia accords were overturned recently so now that you two were no longer fugitives, she decided it’d be the best time for you to meet the family she had reunited with shortly after she had gone on the run. unfortunately for you, while she was up in the sky busy killing dreykov, you had been placed in the raft after siding with team cap. when natasha busted you out of the floating jail, you two were quick to wrap each other in a tight embrace with soft apologies being shared. you two were just glad the other was alive.

as the two of you fly over to saint petersburg, your gaze is fixed on the now blonde assassin next to you. it was nearly 5am so the sun was just rising and you absolutely loved how the glow of the sunrise shined across natasha’s face, her emerald eyes sparkling with excitement.

“you okay baby?” natasha asks, as she switches the quinjet to autopilot, turning to give you her full attention.

“i’m good, just nervous.” you respond honestly, fingers playing with the engagement ring on your hand.

“you have nothing to worry about, i’m sure they’re going to love you.” natasha assured you gently, hand moving to grasp yours.

“i know, but they’re your family.. i just want to make a good first impression.” you whine a little as your nerves seem to build up even more.

“oh moya lyubov,” natasha sighs gently as she moves to unbuckle her seatbelt before climbing onto your lap. she places both her hands on your cheeks, squishing your face softly. she places multiple soft pecks on your nose in between her next few words.

“they. are. going. to. love. you.” natasha pressed her forehead against yours, before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, your grip on her waist tightening.

“you are so easy to love my darling, i think they might even like you more than me.” natasha teases after she pulls away, a smile dancing on her lips. seeing her like this, settled in your lap with that beautiful smile of hers made you swoon. god, you were so in love.

“and if they don’t?” you ask, head tilting to the side. you knew how important family was to natasha, how important this family is to your fiancée.

“then i’ll beat them up.” natasha replies seriously, making you burst out into laughter.

“talia they’re your family-“ your words were quickly cut off by natasha.

“and you are my family.”

you pause, words dying in your throat as you stare at the assassin in front of you. natasha blinks at you, seemingly confused at why you looked shocked at that revelation.

“i’m your family..?” your tone was filled with disbelief, your eyes filled with so many emotions that natasha couldn’t get a good grasp of what you were feeling.

“of course moya lyubov.. back when i first joined SHIELD everyone else stayed far away from me because of my past, everyone except for you. i don’t know what you saw in me that day at the gym but i’m thankful that you gave me a chance. you let me stay with you at your apartment, you wrote in a strong recommendation for me when they were officiating my defection into SHIELD.. and i remember how you stayed up to wait for me and clint to return from budapest. how you held me when i started to cry, the guilt of my actions weighing down on me. when you asked me to stay when i told you i was looking for another apartment, i knew i couldn’t say no. not when you’ve made it feel like home, not when you had started to feel like family.” natasha spoke softly, her hands quickly coming to wipe away the tears that were falling down your cheeks.

“oh sweetheart please don’t cry.” natasha cooed softly as you pulled her into a tight embrace, tears soaking her shirt as you continued to cry. natasha continued to mumble softly to you as she rubbed a hand up and down your back comfortingly. once your tears finally died down, you took a couple deep breaths before you spoke.

“i never had a family before. i mean i did, once.” natasha knew all too well about your childhood. most found it ironic, how two people who absolutely had zero faith in love somehow ended up loving each other with such ferocity. “so thank you for being my family, talia. for being my home.”

natasha presses a kiss onto the top of your head, leaning back to look at you once you pulled away from the hug. she settles her hands on your cheeks again, gently wiping away your tears before capturing your lips with her own once again.

“i can’t believe i made you cry.” natasha muses, chuckling at the way you pouted at her.

“oh shut it romanoff.” you roll your eyes at the asssasin but the smile on your face tells natasha you really weren’t all the annoyed by her teasing.

“you’re just a softie aren’t you?” natasha presses another kiss to your lips and you simply hum in response.

“i’m your softie.” you agree, eyes gazing up at natasha adoringly before kissing natasha again. you would never get tired of kissing natasha, it felt like flying yet being grounded all at once. kissing natasha feels like home.

[writerjodie]

i have a thing for fantasy things that are pretty but slightly gross,,,

like i want more elves that are beautiful on the whole but when you look too closely things aren't quite right, their eyes are the wrong colour, their skin not quite skin, their teeth just a tiny bit too sharp and pointed for your liking, maybe their hair isn't really hair, at least not like human hair, maybe those branches and berries on their head aren't a crown, maybe they sprout right from the scalp itself, and maybe when you get closer they're thorned and the skin beneath is red and sore from branches pushing through

AAAA it would be so good to have things that when you see from a distance you're enchanted by their beauty, but once you get close enough you feel unsettled by everything because things just aren't quite Right with them, it's all too much or too little and there's no inbetween! maybe they are still kind, despite normal genre conventions having ugly as evil and beauty as good,,, its endless i could ramble all day

[bitterrsweetss]

hi! could i request a oneshot for asahi x female reader where she is self conscious because she is plus-sized and feels like she isn't good enough for him?

of course, of course !! thank you for requesting, and have a nice day. gosh i love requests. 

just the way you are

fem! reader x asahi azumane

a/n: shitty title, i know, i know

the dress (creds to nordstrom)

it was no secret you were dating azumane asahi. everyone knew, from the new first years to the third year students waiting their last year of high school out. almost everyone was extremely supportive of your relationship, but something always felt off.

to you, asahi was extremely handsome. he was strong, sweet, and generous among so many other things. he even was a regular on the volleyball team. and you were just, you. plain old y/n, plus sized, slightly ugly, heavy and just far from perfect. far from perfect, and just not good enough for the angel of your boyfriend.

asahi had asked you out (with a lot of support from nishinoya and tanaka) and the start of this year and your relationship was still relatively new. he hadn’t even told you that he loved you yet.

honestly, you had zero idea why he would like you. was it a dare? how could he even find anything attractive about your body? he had told you how beautiful you were before, but had his perspective changed since then? was he just saying it for the sake of saying it?

these thoughts rushed through your head daily. a small, but strong voice was stuck in your head. “you aren’t good enough for him. you’re too heavy, too ugly, and he is too perfect for you.”

you had tried losing weight multiple times, but absolutely nothing worked. from going on a diet, to a strict exercise regime, you had tried it all. it was as if you were condemned to live a life like that forever. 

every day you felt ugly. you watched from your seat as your classmates walked around during lunch to talk to their friends, eating whatever they wanted without fear of gaining too much weight. the girls were slim and tall, with pretty hair and clear skin. again you thought of yourself. you just weren’t good enough.

for years and years all these heavy thoughts had weighed you down inside, but you rarely told people. they just wouldn’t understand.

asahi liked to watch you from his seat in the one class the two of you shared. you shifted slightly, disgusted at how heavy you felt, but you didn’t know he still thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever met. i mean, he was in love with you since year 2, of course, he would think you were beautiful. and you were. 

he loved the way your eyes shone when you talked about something you loved, and the way you frowned when you concentrated. he loved your curves, your fats, and your ugly. only, to him, it was all beauty. he loved the way you stood up to give an old lady your seat, the way you rushed to hold the lift door open or volunteered to help your teachers carry books. he liked your eyes and every single pimple on your face, how your hand felt when he held it, and every single hug you gave him and the dimples that littered your cheeks whenever you lit up with joy.

because all those things made you, you, and he was just so irresistibly, madly in love with you and everything that made you, you. which included whatever part of you that you hated, be it your double chins, large thighs, or the cellulites on your stomach.

it was just another sunny afternoon, and you had agreed to go out on a date with him again. he always made you so happy and special, and whenever you were with him, you suddenly felt like you were a queen, and he, your king. yet those thoughts never helped to curb the little voice that was convinced you just weren’t good enough, and that sooner or later you would be dumped and single once more. 

you stared in the mirror for the hundredth time that night, spinning around to check how you looked in that dress. it was a beautiful dress,but somehow you felt like it didn’t fit on your body. (a/n: change the dress if you would prefer another, i just found this and thought it was cool aaa) it wasn’t because it was too tight or too loose, you just didn’t like it. you didn’t like the way it made you look, you.

the moment your eyes met, he could immediately tell something was wrong. the usually happy love of his life seemed down, and he didn’t wait to ask if there was anything wrong.

it was as if a switch in you had flipped, and you spewed out all your concerns and all your insecurities to him while he listened closely. you had expected him to be slightly disgusted, or not bother, but what you didn’t expect was for him to envelope you in a hug while you sobbed your eyes out.

“y/n... i didn’t know you felt that way! oh, sweetheart...” soothing pats on your back and a warm heart instantly made you feel a million times better.

“sweetheart,” he looked you in the eye. “you’re so beautiful to me, and i mean it. you don’t have to change yourself, and i’m not going to break up with you just because of that! i love everything about you even if you don’t!” 

it must have been a slightly comical sight for passerby’s, watching a man try and comfort his sobbing girlfriend, but to you, it meant the world. to finally be comforted by him after spilling your deepest, darkest thoughts.

he kissed your forehead. “i know it may be really fast, but i really love you. and you’re so much better than me, never think you’re not good enough.” you sniffled. “really?” “yes! you’re so kind, so amazing, and i love how you look, every single inch of your body!” “i love you too...”

that night, after your date, you were sent a long, extensive list of all the things he loved about you. and for the first time in a long while, you felt so overwhelmed with love and joy and you just HAD to cry. the list stretched from your dimples to how you talked to a little kid, from how you helped an old woman to how he loved holding your hand, and it was the first time anyone had made you feel so safe, and you were convinced you were in love and he loved you, and the little voice was silenced for the first time.

from that day onwards, he told you daily that he loved you, just the way you are.

it wasn’t the last time you had to face that little voice, but now it just felt better because you had someone you loved who loved you endlessly, to face it with you.

a/n: gosh, 1k plus words! by the way, i saw a while back (or very long ago, i don’t know) that after the timeskip, when asahi becomes an apparel designer, he designs clothes for his plus sized girlfriend who wants to wear fashionable clothes but the stores don’t have it in her size. i just thought that was really cute and wanted to say aaaa

anyways, i hope you liked the oneshot ! i had a lot of fun writing it. remember that you are beautful and amazing, and thank you again for requesting. have a good day/night!

[lunaekalenda]

Hii! Can I request Reiner with a fem s/o who's very cheerful and affectionate? Like her happiness is infectious! Thank you!!

woow yes of course! he totally deserves it! reiner receiving love it's my fave thing aaaa. i hope you like it! <3

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ reiner x female s/o

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

- when they met, they liked each other automatically

- she’s the type of girl who always smiles and laughs, and he was the boy who lost his smile.

- they complement each other well, really well. that’s why they are still a couple, after all this time.

- she smiles a lot, and for him, oh god, she shows the brightest smile only for him.

- Reiner wasn’t a huge fan of physical contact, and she respected that, although she wanted to kiss and hug him aaall the time.

- Reiner ended discovering that, and he talked with her about it.

- “you should have told me!” he says, blushed, she laughs.

- “You don’t like that things, so i didn’t want to bother you with all that stuff.” Reiner’s eyes were fixed on hers.

- “but I wanted it if it comes from you”

- after that, she kisses him every time they are near, and it doesn’t care if they had shared a hundred kisses five minutes before, she stills wants to kiss him.

- he loved that side of her, the one that pulls him with playfulness to kiss him, the one that hugs him and strokes his hair.

- and she loved the Reiner that searched her contact, who got used to feel her hand on his, who searches her body at nights.

- he loves to have her close, just her little finger getting tangled with his makes his heart shake a bit.

- Reiner also likes how she stays positive.

- in one of their first dates, she insisted to rent a canoa, even when none of them knew how to navigate.

- they ended in the river, the two of them swimming in cold water.

- Reiner hugged her once she got out of the river, helping her, but she started to laugh between his arms. 

- her little and fine hands iced to his shirt, her eyes closed because of laugh.

- “it was so fun! we fell into the river... I’m wet now, my dress.”

- Reiner looked at her, scared. the two of them ended into the cold river and she laughs. what if she didn’t know how to swim? is he strong enough to take the two of them out?

- he felt her fingers on his cheek, caressing him.

- “I don’t know what are you thinking, but we’re both okay, don’t worry! and it was so fun!” she laughs a bit again, her eyes scanning his.

- he lets out a little laugh too. it’s true, they’re okay. why should he worry for thing that didn’t happen?

- in any way, she knows when it is a real risk and when she can joke.

- once she got stuck in her job because of a boy who was waiting for her outside. she was so scared.

- Reiner told her a lot of times that asking for help is not bad, and she can call him, or should call him, if she needs it.

- so she called, terror in her voice.

- “there’s a boy waiting for me outside. he has followed me a couple times after work.”

- he drove there and took the elevator to her plant. he started to go pick her after his work everyday.

- she is really thankful, but at the same time she doesn’t want to be a bother. 

- “it’s not necessary, it’s fine, you’re surely tired.”

- “it’s fine and you end late. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

- his friends always says that he’s more smiling since he’s with her.

- “man, where’s my Reiner? this smiling one is a impostor!”

- he also likes to explore her full body, know every peculiarity of it. he’s so in love with her, he likes even the things she hates.

 - “but my legs are so ugly.”

- he kisses her legs, from top to bottom, in front of her blushed face.

- “i think they’re so beautiful...”

- he’s so sweet to her.

- they love each other and care for each other a lot.

[janekfan]

ooooh..... difficult anniversary and/or you’re not human anymore bingo prompts for jarchivist obliteration?

AAAA This took so long! I am SO SORRY!!! <3 <3 <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31123295

Jon was used to hurting.

Used to hiding.

Which is why he didn’t notice. Didn’t understand what was happening to him and more importantly why.

A panic attack here. A bad day there. A cold, maybe? Until the scars on his skin from the worms and the corkscrew and the scratching woke one day as though they were fresh and new. His skin crawled, the slightest touch filled him with revulsion and, lord, he had to keep it together because Martin would almost certainly overreact and Jon hated, hated to be the source of his worry.

So he would ignore it as usual.

Whatever it was would pass. And he could avoid being the center of attention for this thing that was out of their control. He’d read the Lord of the Rings. He knew about the less romantic side of anniversaries. What was one more thing for him to overcome?

It didn’t stop them from hurting like the day they were drawn on his body and while the rents in his skin looked the same as they ever did, he nearly bloodied himself after a particularly wretched nightmare with his frenzied clawing.

And it passed. The burning, bleeding, boring sensations disappeared and Martin hadn’t suspected a thing. Okay, that was a lie. But he seemed mollified enough when Jon wrote it off as a tough week at university.

“I’m just tired, habibi.” He forced himself to reach for Martin’s hands, sighing in gusty relief when everything was normal and allowing himself to get wrapped up in warm arms.

The mark left behind by the Distortion ached deep and throbbing and somehow also elsewhere. It was a phantom pain traveling the myriad corridors of his veins, his arteries, his nerves and when he couldn’t rid himself of it in any conventional way, he waited. It would pass. It would. Just like the last one. This was just pain. He knew pain. Was fast friends with it by now and this was nothing like his worst days.

“Jon-darling?”

“Mm?” He was flipping through the pages in a book, not too fast, not too slow, not really reading anything, trying to pretend that everything was normal when his foot cramped up like he’d been bitten. He was practiced now in not looking; there wouldn’t be anything there anyway. His skin might as well have been a great big door and the only way through to the other side didn’t involve knocking.

“You look pale.” Ah. Well. Pain like this would do that to a man.

“Just a little sore today, love.” It wasn’t a lie. Jon set the book aside, not bothering to mark whatever random page he’d landed on, and threaded their fingers together.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk me into carrying the shopping.”

“What are you talking about? I always help carry the shopping.” Despite his chronic conditions, Jon pulled his own weight.

No, stop. Of course you do and you have nothing to prove, especially not to Martin of all people.

“You’ve been run down.”

“I have not!” Martin fixed him with a stern look and he cowed under his scrutiny. “Perhaps a bit, but you know how these things go.”

“I do. And I can’t help but feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me.” Here it was. Martin’s overture, his olive branch. His invitation to come clean and tell the truth and avoid his wrath when he found out later. But Jon never was a quick learner of these social lessons.

“I’m fine, hayati.” Jon soothed, tipping Martin into his newly throbbing shoulder. “I’m fine.”

The next three hit him like a lorry, nearly as hard as they had a year ago and nearly all at once.

His burn scar, just like the worm scars, felt blistered as badly as the day he’d taken Jude’s hand, and he shook violently at the onset of it, thankful he was squirreled away in his office at the University and not crying into Martin’s shirt even if that’s where he’d prefer to be but Martin hates burns.

Hates how they look, how twisted and ugly they become when they scar.

Burns made him upset. Burns made him sick.

He hates them. Hates them. And while Jon was reasonably sure Martin would never turn him away when he was hurting like this, the fluttering undercurrent chanting what if wouldn’t leave him be.

So Instead he sniffled away in the dark, wrist pressed between his knees in a vain attempt to stop the shaking while he tried to remember how to breathe.

It was dark when he slipped into bed beside Martin, dead asleep after a run of night shifts. For a frantic moment Jon wanted to shake him awake, beg for reasurances, for relief, but it would ruin this. Martin looked so peaceful, face relaxed in repose, cheek soft when Jon pressed his trembling lips there.

“Jon... ?” Washing out on a swirling tide his voice was fuzzy, thick with exhaustion, and the hand that brushed the small of his back lingered only for the time it took for him to drift back under. No. He’d wrought enough damage here. Better for Martin to rest without worry. He shouldn’t have to deal with Jon and his problems. Especially when they would be arriving like clockwork for the rest of his life. Jon pressed himself against Martin’s warmth, trying to soak it up, stop the shivering. How could he be so frozen when his whole right arm was engulfed in flame? Silent, he let the tears come, closing his eyes against a burgeoning dizziness he knew would only grow worse.

Be quiet. Just be quiet. Don’t disturb him, you mustn’t. You’ve nothing else to give except more burdens that aren’t his to carry.

The ceiling was spinning so fast above him; lights, cast shadows, cabinets whirling, reeling, spiraling so much he’d be sick with it any minute. The vibrations from Martin’s pounding footsteps resonated through the whole of him, pulsing, in time with his uneven battering pulse.

He barely remembered the actual fall, just the terrifying sensation of being weightless and the fear welling in his throat like coagulated ink. Forever. He’d be falling forever. Nothing to hold. To grab. To slow. To Know.

Endless.

His scream wrenched away from him in the rushing winds filling up his ears, stealing his voice, his breath. No one could hear him in this place. Martin would never know what happened. That Jon was eaten up by the sky. Surrounded infinitely on all sides by a sea of simultaneous nonexistence and brutal presence. Jon’s awareness whittled down only to the pull of gravity in all the wrong directions.

“Jon!” A bleary shape manifested above him, blocking out the worst of it. Hands, gentle, probing, searching subconsciously for breaks, contusions, his training winning out over the panic Jon could just make out in the set of his mouth. Fingers ran soft through his curls, seeking out any swellings and Jon winced when he found one. Must’ve struck his head on the way down. Those cool hands settled, cupping his face, and twin thumbs brushed over his cheeks. “You’re warm, love.” A murmur, almost to himself as Martin puzzled.

“B’bit of, of vertigo, s’all.” Uncoordinated, Jon’s arm struck out as he tried to reach for him and landed on his wrist. “Tryin’...nnh.” He gripped Martin like a lifeline, slamming his eyes shut against the need to be ill.

“You’ve clocked yourself.” Fair enough. “But I think you’re alright. Think you can move?” With no other option than to speak lest he set it all swirling again, Jon whimpered. “Okay.” With one more pass through his hair Martin stepped away and soon enough had Jon settled as best he could on the tile, tucked beneath a blanket with a cold pack pressed to the back of his neck. Relief came gradually and Martin’s unasked questions lingered on the edges of their companionable silence. “Better?”

“Mm.” Despite the hard surface applied to every pressure point, Jon was falling asleep cocooned in the safety of Martin’s soothing company.

He wouldn’t be able to keep this up

Martin teased him mercilessly about the loss of his voice and Jon let him have it if it kept him from noticing how sore his throat really was. He wanted to tell him that it was Daisy’s mark, to cry and come clean and beg Martin to stay.

But that wouldn’t be fair. Jon had to be a whole person in this relationship and stop relying on Martin to pick up the slack. He would figure this out. He’d prove his past didn’t control him.

After he could get out of bed.

And here was what he’d strived to avoid. Finally laid low.

“I worry, Jon. You know that.” That was the problem. Martin was already going to be late to work from all his fussing. With the scrap of voice he’d gained back he protested in a hoarse whisper, syllables squeaking past what felt like a shredded voice box and listened to Martin call in again. He had to be better than this but he was overwrought, dangling at the end of a very frayed rope. This marked a sharp decline and Jon was sure it hadn’t escaped Martin’s notice that they were coming up on the date he’d more or less died. He could barely rouse himself in the mornings for school, drifting through lessons and relying more on his TA than he’d like. More than once he’d splurged on a cab, not sure if he’d make it on the tube and Martin’s fretting and worry and distress only made Jon more secure in his conviction. If it was this bad already, how bad would it become if he knew the reason it was all happening? They were supposed to be free of this. Jon wasn’t supposed to keep doing this to Martin.

Melanie’s scar throbbed, chipping away at any scant reserve he had left and ruthless with its aim. It was worse than Daisy’s even though he could understand both motivations. Daisy was putting down a monster. Mel was striking out at someone trying to help, driving home with the scalpel that no good deed goes unpunished. Rationally, he knew he’d deserved it. Too bad it didn’t dull the sting of it all really.

“Darling? Sweetheart?” Jon forced his eyes open, gasping when it sent the dark room to pirouetting, his stomach to churning, staging a mutiny against the scant meal he’d forced on himself not too long ago. Anything he’d gained in their short reprieve had long melted away under the stress. “I’m here, what’s wrong, love?”

“Nnothing…” he regretted the word as soon as it passed his lips.

“You’ve a fever so high it woke me. That’s not nothing, Jon.” Mercifully, he gave him a moment to gather his thoughts, catalogue how much more of this he could take before it broke him. Burned hand shaking, Jon clenched his fist which didn’t help the pain rocketing through his arm and into his heart, but steadied him.

“Jus’a, a bit of a flare up.” Those sometimes came with fevers.

“Oh, love. Why didn’t you say?”

Because it was a lie. Because I didn’t want you to worry. Because I never want to see you upset over me. Because I’m not worth it. Because if it’s always going to be like this--

“Din’t want you to, to…” The cramping agony slurred his voice badly, stringing syllables together with an uncooperative tongue was too much effort. “Nngh.” Dazed and groggy, Jon shut his eyes tightly, trying to focus on Martin’s soothing touch stroking over his face. Like a coward, Jon let sleep rescue him from the truth.

It was the flesh that gave him away.

Woke him screaming; hot and twisting in agony with Jared’s phantom fingers dug into his rib cage. More fingers clamped onto his shoulders, shaking him, a distorted voice calling, shouting his name over and over and over.

“Jon!” Martin was little more than a blur, obscured by tears, and Jon’s panic was reflected straight back at him. “Where does it hurt?”

“Wha…?”

“Where, habibi? Left, right? Please, Jon.”

“Not...not. S’not--” He couldn’t get the words to come, to admit after so long what he’d kept poorly hidden.

“Not what?” Frustration bled sideways into his words and Martin gripped him harder as though he might tear the answers out of him.

“Real.” It burst from him in a raw, somehow soft explosion. It wasn’t. Not really. The wounds were long healed over.

“Looks plenty real from here, Jon.” He batted away questing fingers.

“No. No.” There was no way he’d be able to explain through this piercing agony, the literal holes invisible in his skin.

“It’s the fears, isn’t it? Your marks, your scars.” Martin already knew judging by the disquiet in his tone. This was merely confirmation.

“Yes.” He sobbed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” There was hurt in his voice, sadness and betrayal, alongside the ire.

“I thought, I thought--” Jon couldn’t breathe, panic and pain stealing the very air from his lungs. This was only going to get worse. After all they’d done, he’d done--how was he still a monster?

“Shh, shhh, thought what, love?” Martin held him carefully, mindful of all the ways Jon hurt, ticking off fears and scars on mental fingers, trying to figure out how long he’d been hiding it. How long he’d been suffering alone.

“Supposed to be, god, supposed to be safe, free of this.” He was trembling now, with chills or anxiety or both, gasping for every sip of oxygen and swallowing seawater for his trouble. “Can’t, what if--?” Choking himself off, Jon strangled. Martin stayed silent, rocking them both gently, back, forth, soft, slow, calm, calm, calm, and when Jon finally spoke again had to strain to hear him over the echo of a hammering heart beat. “Every year?”

Every year.

He couldn’t Breathe.

Everything was close. So close, too close, and he was crushed under the implications.

“Jon?” Now he was heaving for it, fast and deep, and while Martin could feel the strain it was to breathe he knew it wouldn’t be long before Jon lost consciousness altogether. “Hey, hey, listen, hayati, slow down, sloow down.” Jon’s entire body lifted when Martin inhaled, and again, and again, until he picked up the thread and made more than a half decent attempt. “Okay, there you are, you’re doing so well, sweetheart. So well.” Time passed in measured breaths, so much so that Martin had begun to think Jon had fallen asleep when:

“You’ll leave.”

Soft and shattered. All the fear that he’d piled onto the pain flowing out of him, a dam burst and broken.

“I won’t.” Jon’s movements were hard-won but he managed to shift himself enough to face him. His expression was firm.

“You, you can’t be stuck taking care of an i’invalid again, Martin. I won’t. I won’t have it.”

“Ah. You won’t have it.” Martin scoffed. “And what about me? When do I get a choice?” Jon, eyes wide and dark with exhaustion and pain, looked at him as though he’d grown a second head, perhaps a third.

Or like Martin was a predator and Jon was prey, cornered and hurting.

“You shouldn’t want this.” Me. “This, this burden. This trap!”

“You’re not some sort of trap!” Martin could see the moment Jon decided to change tactics, to try and convince him otherwise, win the game. Too bad for Jon that Martin knew him better than he knew himself.

“You want this don’t you?” He sneered, so convinced, and while once upon a time it would have made Martin wilt and retreat, now he was familiar with Jon’s lashing out. Sorry, Jon. “I won’t be another reason for you to martyr yourself.”

“And I won’t be scared off by your nasty attitude.” Softening, he reached for Jon’s trembling hands, running his thumbs methodically over the backs of them. “I won’t. Together. Right?”

“Martin.” His name broke open on a sob. “I don’t. I don’t want this for you.”

“Tough.” Smothered, Jon’s next words died in his throat, a fledgling bird crushed before it could take flight. “You don’t get to choose for me, even to protect me.”

“Every year--”

“We don’t know that. Not yet.” Martin eased him down. “You aren’t a burden. You aren’t trapping me here.” He kissed away the tears, the hopelessness, even as Jon shook his head nigh delirious.

“I am, I am.”

“No, love. What you are is worn out and hurting.” Martin teased out Jon’s tangled curls, stroking his fingers through them and watching him relax as much as he could at the moment. “What you’re going to do is let me take care of things. Of you, Jon.”

“Don’deserve you.” Fresh tears welled in half lidded brown eyes, slipped into the fly aways at his temples when they closed. “Never have.” Martin stood, pressing lips to his hot brow, intending to gather up anything he thought might help.

“We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.” Jon nodded and Martin turned to leave, stopping when he found himself caught by quaking fingers tangled in his sleeve.

“I, I love you.” Contrite, whispered and awaiting rejection. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, darling.” Martin leaned down, thumbing away new tears. “I know, I know and I love you too.” He stole one more shivering kiss. “Let’s get you taken care of.”