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bluesidez · 7 months ago

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hiii love 💗 may I request a nsfw and a sfw alphabet thingy for gymrat miguel. I just need more of that man 😫😫

[Gym Rat Miguel SFW + NSFW Alphabet]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: GymRat!Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, fem!Reader

summary: Me answering questions and yapping about Gym Rat Miguel!

content warning: 18+ for the NSFW portion so MINORS DNI, most importantly THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL STORY (nothing too crazy, but some of the questions are things that haven’t happened yet + they haven’t even been together a year yet in the current story so there’s still much to discuss), lots of fluff, possibly the incorrect use of a fidget spinner?? (it's cute I swear)

word count: 9.1k, halfway proofread (sigh...)

a/n: Hi hii!! 🩵 You don’t know how happy I was to receive this request!! Any chances to talk about my Miguels outside of their actual stories are golden. 🥺 I tried to keep the responses brief so about 2+ paragraphs per question but we all know how much I like to write and yap 😭 so there's bound to be some long paragraphs. I do hope you enjoy!!! (This also gave me a chance to flesh out his character even more, which I appreciate more than you know, so truly, thank you Anon!)

I just refer to GR!Miguel as Miguel here because…we all know who I’m talking about.

A = Affection How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a really giant heart so he’s extremely affectionate especially when it comes to his girlfriend. Usually, boys are taught to kind of control their emotions, but even with those teachings/societal rules hanging over his head, he was always a sweet and kind baby growing up. His abuela especially taught him to lead with kindness.

ᰔ ᩚ He shows affection often through action. While he’s really familiar with all of the love languages, he’s quicker to do something for someone (acts of service) before he does anything else. His second most used love language has to be words of affirmation. Words and communication are a sensitive thing for him so communication is key even if he can be oblivious about it sometimes.

B = Best friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is definitely the "dad friend," or really, the "parent friend" that’s always making sure you’re ok. He knows how to parallel park and owns at least two of the ugliest ties you’ve ever seen in your life (thank you, George). He’s also EXTREMELY huggable, even in his tall and lanky days, and gives really nice advice. If you’re struggling with something, he would lay everything out and help you problem-solve. Overall, he’s just very sweet.

ᰔ ᩚ For Miguel, a friendship could start with you constantly talking to (bugging) him or being able to keep up with his nerdy hobbies. You want to hear him sort out quantum physics? He’s sold. On the other end, anyone who is nice to him and treats him like a human has a fair game of becoming his friend.

C = Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ᰔ ᩚ Does he? He craves it! He will literally stop what he’s doing to find you just to cuddle. It’s like a way to regain his energy if you're in his arms. At the same time, he’s very comfortable despite all that hard muscle. At home, he usually wears soft sweaters and joggers so he is indeed like a giant teddy bear. The older he gets, the more his body gains a nice balance between fat and muscle so it’s just really comfortable all around.

ᰔ ᩚ When he cuddles, he’ll usually shove his face in some plush part of you. He definitely loves laying on your chest which he lovingly calls his pillows or your stomach or your lap. He’s really clingy. If you’re out and about, he'll cuddle you from behind with his chin on your head or keep an arm wrapped around your hips. When you ask for a cuddle, he’ll gladly hold you on top of him and probably fall asleep.

D = Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

ᰔ ᩚ He wouldn’t mind settling down, but it depends more on how you feel rather than him. He’s heard many stories from his mother, Abuela, and tías about how hard childbirth is so he’s very wary of that pain being inflicted on you. His mother has told him multiple times about how giant he was when he was born so he’s scared that whatever baby he could give you might also be huge. After he learned of Tyler, Conchata told him that she wanted to cuss Tyler out, but all she had was George in the delivery room so he suffered her wrath not once, but twice.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has fantasized about you with his babies, but to his shame, it was more about the process of giving you his kids rather than having them run around. He has to admit, he would love to see chunky babies with a mix of you guys’ best qualities. One family reunion with you taking care of your baby cousins might put him in a spiral. He’s sure that you’ll be a great mama and he’s confident that he’ll be the best father. If that doesn’t work out, he’s aiming for tío of the year for the many nephews and nieces his brother is sure to have.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of domestic qualities, he’s spent so much time with his abuela that he knows more dishes than his mom. He’s also had times when his mom got sick of constantly cooking for him, so he’ll be up at the crack of dawn fixing his own meals. His cleaning could use a lot of work. He knows the basics, but his family always fusses at him to do more than that. In front of you? He becomes a new person. All of a sudden, he remembers the ways his mother fussed at him to clean the house.

E = Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

ᰔ ᩚ Even though emotionally he’s extremely mature, he’d probably be a wreck when it comes to breaking up with you. He loves very deeply and separating from you has a high chance of sending him to the ER. If he doesn’t pass out while breaking up, he’d definitely be extremely sick afterwards.

ᰔ ᩚ If he had to break up with you, he’d do it face to face because anything else is an insult to you. It’ll be somewhere public enough that you’re free to walk away from, but private enough to where no one will be like “wtf is up with those two?” He'll write out what he wants to say a thousand times over and have his desk littered with notebook paper. In his ‘speech’ he’ll praise you heavily but say something along the lines of “even though you are my sun, I can’t continue to drain your light.” Just VERY dramatic and heartfelt. He’d probably be sick enough to puke after watching you go.

[Good thing this will NEVER HAPPEN. Even I, the angst lover, can not take that torture.]

F = Fiance(e) How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is fully committed to you even without the ring. He is quite the planner, so as soon as he reaches the end of undergrad, he’s already planning out his proposal. Of course, he’s asked you how you feel about marriage and has peeked over your shoulder at your Pinterest boards so he has an idea of what you would like. However, he’s truly a romantic, so he’s pulling out all of the stops.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t feel the need to get married right away because you both have huge futures to explore, but damn it, he wants people to know that you’re taken, so maybe he’ll buy you a promise ring. He’s willing to wait until you both have stable jobs before making the huge step to marriage, but he fights the urge to propose to you constantly. He also spoils you like crazy and he wants to earn the money for your rings rather than asking his family for help.

G = Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is the definition of a Gentle Giant. Really, it’s something that first grew from his mom always fussing at him to be a big boy so as to not make Gabriel upset, but his Grandma has always been so kind to him because she felt that Conchata treated him differently than Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ Physically, he’s always extra aware of his surroundings because now, not only is he tall, but he’s also wide. There’s a new strength to him that he learned to control after roughhousing with Gabriel got a little too rough, ending in a fractured wrist bone. Miguel was crying more than Gabriel on the way to the hospital. He ended up helping him in saxophone practice for weeks. For you, you’re like his personal weighted plushie. He’s not going to be too rough, just firm squeezes every now and then.

ᰔ ᩚ Emotionally, he’s always careful of what he says to others. It takes A LOT for him to yell or blow a fuse. He knows how much words can hurt so he never wants what he says to be the reason that someone is hurt. He cries at the drop of a hat. He’s gotten better at not crying so easily, but he definitely can’t see people he cares about cry. That night that you sobbed in his arms, he cried a little with you then and a lot while you were in the shower. When you first got together, he feared that his tears might be the breaking point for you but every time he cries in front of you, you’re there to wipe them away.

He’s definitely crying on your wedding day.

H = Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

ᰔ ᩚ He loves hugs, but he’s certain that his family is sick of his hugs. Just like how big dogs don’t realize how big they are when curling up somewhere, he is very similar when he goes to hug his closest family. His Abuela will often fuss about how he’s just a big baby and Gabriel sets a three-minute time limit, claiming that he’s going to transfer his body heat if he hugs past that. His dad is not really known for hugging and his mom gets irritated too fast. You are the only one who can stand his hugs that feel like they last a lifetime.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s hugs feel like really warm firm clouds. His waist is itty bitty so your arms can completely go around it but if you put your hands in other areas, he’s bound to start borderline purring. You’re a lot softer than him so he craves seeking you out for hugs. He likes to give them for any occasion: when you’re about to part, when you see each other for the first time in a while, when you finish a set, when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re out shopping and are indecisive about which color of a product you should buy, when you’re taking too long in the art store, when you’re fresh out the shower, etc. He’s just a cuddle bug read: clingy boyfriend.

I = I love you How fast do they say the L-word?

ᰔ ᩚ [According to the story] Miguel calls you his love over the phone during Thanksgiving break which is about four months after knowing you and about three months into dating. He calls you his darling by the time the New Year comes around, he also won over your mom a little after Valentine’s, and he admits to himself that he’s falling in love by the time the spring semester has ended.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t say he loves you out loud until the dinner party after everyone pisses him off which is roughly seven months into dating. However, all of his actions from the handwritten cards to the handmade crafts to the thoughtful gifts to the sweet words have all been signs of his growing love for you. Quite frankly, he would have told you he loved you sooner if he didn’t want to freak you out and he tells you so the night his mother demeans you.

J = Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

ᰔ ᩚ You haven’t seen the extent of how jealous Miguel can get, truly, you just know of the couple of times he’s almost knocked people out or been completely rude to the people he’s thought were trying to lead you on when he was standing right there. He has shocked himself with how green he gets but it doesn’t stop him from feeling that way. When he gets jealous, he’ll find little ways to show others that you’re his such as PDA, lingering a bit too close to you, glaring directly at others whose eyes are planted on you for far too long, or getting really mean towards people who make advances.

ᰔ ᩚ Oddly enough, he’s never aware of the things that he does that attracts others because he’s so busy trying to be cordial that it may come off as flirty. It’s very hard for him to push people off him because that’s never really happened to him until he started bulking up and again, he doesn’t want to hurt people that haven’t hurt him.

K = Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s kisses are consuming and soft, warm and inviting. He gives you his full attention and pours his entire heart into it. The feeling of him against you only really leaves you wanting more, so you have to snap out of it and tell yourself to regain control. He could probably spend an entire day just in your face making out without ever going further, but he might need frequent trips to the bathroom to calm himself down.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes to kiss you on your lips mostly but his other favorite places to kiss you are your stomach, your collarbones, and your thighs. He has to limit himself from leaving marks all over your skin because he’s keen to do it if you don’t stop him. He also likes to be kissed on the lips and he especially loves it when he doesn’t expect them. Surprise kisses have him on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. He really loves it when you won’t bother to reach up to him or lean him down and you settle on kissing him in the middle of his chest. It feels like your lips warm up his heartbeat. Lastly, he feels ignited when you leave kisses on his back, especially the back of his neck. To him, it’s like a promise for more or a way to ignite him. Start kissing his back and he’s not letting you leave him for at least 20 minutes.

L = Little ones How are they around children?

ᰔ ᩚ Kids use him like a jungle gym. He is a fan favorite amongst his baby cousins who are always asking to be thrown in the air. He would think some babies would be afraid of him, but once they’re in his arms, they’re either really excited about how high off the ground they are or they’ll fall asleep instantly in his arms.

ᰔ ᩚ He’ll often tire the babies and kiddos out and his family will find him in a pile with him as the pillow to little heads.

ᰔ ᩚ Another key thing is that he won’t use baby voices with babies, but rather he’ll talk to them like normal human beings. It’s very useful when he has to break up fights between his baby cousins who often argue over who gets to play with him first.

M = Morning How are mornings spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Mornings with Miguel are more like Miguel going to do his workout while you sleep. You’re not really a morning person, so you’re a bit drowsy whenever he kisses you all over your face before he leaves. He always chuckles at your sleepy state and urges himself to not get distracted, but more often than not, he wants to stay with you. Some mornings, he’ll get right back in the bed with you after his shower and kiss you until you wake up.

ᰔ ᩚ On the mornings that you do go with him to the gym, it’s mostly him talking with you humming along one-word answers until you’re actually fighting for your life in the gym. Afterwards, he always takes you to go get breakfast whether that’s a smoothie or him making you something.

N = Night How are nights spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Nights with Miguel are very loving! If you let him, he’d do everything from shower with you to brushing teeth together to skincare to hair care and so on. Being that both introverts and creatives often work/operate better at night, sometimes you both are up at all times of night doing anything. You could be drawing on your iPad while he’s up playing games with your feet in his lap.

ᰔ ᩚ Sometimes this is also when he lets his most intimate thoughts slip out. With his head on your chest and your nails scratching against his scalp, he’s in his most vulnerable state.

O = Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than revealing things about himself, all of his drama just happens to unfold for him. The way he brought up Tyler Stone, the super famous tech CEO, being his father just happened to be the time when you were doing something extremely serious.

ᰔ ᩚ He can tell you things and open up about his past, but you never really grasp how serious it is until it appears before your eyes. His turmoil with Kron was 4+ years in the making and the first time you met Kron just so happened to be the time Miguel connected his fist to his face. His relationship with his mom is something that’s been an uphill battle and you haven’t really seen how bad it can get, but you’ve felt how cruel she could be. Tyler's yearning for a relationship with his youngest son is something you see happening in real-time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is as open as he can be, but nothing ever really prepares you for the real deal.

P = Patience How easily angered are they?

ᰔ ᩚ It takes a lot to push Miguel’s buttons because he often lets things pile up and boil over. He’s not easily pushed to true anger until someone hurts the people he loves. One time, Gabriel kept coming home crying but he wouldn’t tell Miguel who was hurting him. Once Miguel found out, he ripped the kid a new one which led to Conchatta grounding him for a week. His Abuela was proud of him for standing up for his brother and Gabriel snuck him sweets when he thought their parents weren’t looking.

ᰔ ᩚ He really wanted to say more to his mother that night she hurt you, but Kron took most of the brunt of that anger which helped him level out a more reasonable response to his mother. He doesn’t like seeing you hurt especially over things that he finds to be beautiful about you.

Q = Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been taking in details about you ever since he first saw you in his Biology class. It was almost as if he was studying you. He knows your favorites, he remembers your friends, he listens to you constantly, and stores things for later. He even begins to know the subtle habits that you have.

ᰔ ᩚ The only things that tend to go over his head are when you mention really advanced art techniques. As much as he tries, it never really sticks. He also conveniently forgets how often he asks for cuddles.

R = Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a bank of lovely memories about you stored in his mind (and many more to come 😗). One of his favorite memories was when you went out of your way to make sure that those sorority girls got suspended. He often lets bad things happen to him until he can't control it, but you immediately caught the situation and nipped it in the bud right away. He’s never really had anyone do anything to that extent for him as fast as you did and even though he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with you before, from that moment he knew that you were special.

ᰔ ᩚ Another memory is the last-minute birthday present that you got for him. It was so thoughtful and sweet and he’s constantly using it. The two of you were only at the sproutings of a relationship so to make such an impactful gift meant a lot.

S = Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s extremely protective. This means little things from making sure that he’s the one walking closer to the street and watching your drink while you’re dancing to big things like intervening when men don’t catch the hint to roughing up men that don’t respect your boundaries. He’s willing to use his brute strength in order to make sure no harm comes to you but he hopes it never has to get to that point. He’d rather use his strength to carry you in his arms.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel doesn’t really feel the need to be protected but when you go out of your way to protect him, he can’t help but think that it feels nice. Like, look at my girlfriend going out of her way to make sure that I’m alright, to make sure that I know that I deserve to be protected too. There’s really no other feeling like it to him.

T = Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel goes through so much effort for anything that involves you. He tends to go a little stir-crazy when planning. He marks up his calendar, sets appointments, makes calls, pulls certain strings: anything he can do to see a smile on your face. He remembers so many details about you just so he can pull together the perfect gift. With Tyler trying to get on his good side, he may or may not have asked him to help him out with things that are on the expensive side.

ᰔ ᩚ However, there are things he does that does not involve so much money. Your cafe dates, your study dates in the library, your handmade gifts, and your nights riding around in his Range Rover getting late-night food. If you’re sick, he’ll bring you tea and make you soup. He’s there when you’re cramping, soft hoodie on and heating pad in hand. He waits for you after your art classes, ready to carry your portfolio across campus. He takes your glasses off when you fall asleep with them on and soaks your oil brushes when you’re in a rush. He cares about you deeply.

ᰔ ᩚ Your one-year anniversary is soon…what does Miguel have planned? 🤔

U = Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a nasty habit of overthinking. He often thinks too much for his own good, which is why exercising is so close to him as it forces him to focus on his form and his sets rather than the running hamster wheel of words in his mind. His overthinking could lead to imposter syndrome which in turn causes him to question whether or not he deserves the nice things he has, whether or not he deserves to be with you. With the big reveal of the man he’s known all of his life not actually being his dad, it really only dug a deeper hole into the habit he’s had ever since his mom’s different treatment of him versus Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ On the other end of the spectrum, he can be a bit of a perfectionist which can lead to stubbornness. Conchata has berated him all of his life, so at first, he felt the need to appeal to her good side as her son. The older he got, the more this turned into battles of proving her wrong. No, he wasn’t a bad influence on Gabriel. Yes, he could get all A’s and stay up playing video games. No, he wasn’t afraid to end up alone. Yes, he would try to go to some far-off college.

ᰔ ᩚ His relationship with his mother is far from fixed, and there's no telling how these habits are to continue to affect his other relationships.

V = Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

ᰔ ᩚ At first, Miguel would just own a few nice looks here and there. He’d only really care about the quality of his graphic tees, the softness of his sweaters, and trying to avoid high-water pants. Between his parents and his grandma, a lot of the clothes he got made him resemble a lanky old man. It wasn’t until he started to bulk up that his wardrobe took a change. His old tees could barely fit over his arms and the bigger ones got turned into crop tops to chill out in. His sweaters went to Gabriel who threw them in the deepest pits of his closet.

ᰔ ᩚ Gabriel ended up styling him at one point which resulted in a lot of extra basketball shorts and god-awful t-shirt hoodies. If it weren’t for Dana and his older cousins telling him that he looked like an extra off of Jersey Shore, he would have never changed. He quietly asked Tyler for some kind of stylist which in turn helped him to find more clothes that fit his new body type.

ᰔ ᩚ When you come around, you expand his style even more with your eye for detail and your insistence on having coordinating outfits. You know what looks good on him and with the way your eyes trail his body, he for sure knows what you think is hot.

W = Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

ᰔ ᩚ Absolutely. 1000%. (More of this will play out a bit in Part 10…)

ᰔ ᩚ Obviously, in any Honeymoon stage of a relationship, the couple can feel extremely lonely without their other half. Miguel is an absolute yearner. He hates parting ways no matter how at ease he feels by himself. He never really thought of himself as someone who needs a partner, but now that he has you, he’s trying to juggle between knowing when to give you space and knowing when to impede your space. He feels a lot lighter when you’re around, a lot freer. Tackling college felt so foreign to him, but with you, he feels like he can conquer anything.

ᰔ ᩚ If you were to ever leave this world before him, there would already be enough bits and pieces of you left to fill the half of his missing heart. The only thing is, he would miss your presence dearly and that radiant smile of yours. In his dreams would be the only place where he could feel whole again. X = Xtra A random headcanon for them.

I have three

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves PDA, but sometimes, you’re still a bit shy about it, so you found a compromise: a fidget ring. When he wants to love on you so bad that he can’t stand it, but you’re hyper-aware of the people around you, he’ll take your hand and just start spinning the ring. It’s your sign that he’s craving your touch. It doubles as a distraction when you’re in crowded spaces and his energy levels are low. You can tell when he’s ready to leave an event with the way he’s fidgeting with the ring. A slower tempo means he wants to exit a conversation, a faster tempo could mean he’s overwhelmed or nervous, and moving the entire ring around means he’s ready to go. It’s an effective system for communication between the two of you.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves, loves, LOVES girly pop music. It gives him so much energy during his workouts and what’s better is that they’re really catchy. He hasn’t gone out of his way to watch any of the music videos or learn the dances, but take him to a concert, and he’s bound to know the words. He also has a high chance of being put on the Jumbotron or being called up on stage which could lead to intense screams from others and an awkward dance from him. Gabriel has a stan account that he refuses to show his brother’s face on because he knows it’s bound to be his most popular post.

ᰔ ᩚ Even though he’s extremely book smart and intelligent, when it comes to you, the Himbo gene activates. One compliment from you, no matter how small it is, could have him grinning like a fool all day. Whatever it is you complimented him on will be brought to the forefront constantly. He’ll buy a horrid amount of cologne just because you said you liked the way he smelled that day. He’ll take pictures of himself at the same angle because you thought one photo of him was good enough to put as your phone background. He’ll get worked up with one touch in public from you, especially if you haven’t touched him all day that day. He might even do something that you mentioned off-handedly from a TikTok or a tweet like buy a t-shirt with your face on it or have the lights on his Range Rover doors reflect your name. Sometimes you have to tell him to cool it, but if you praise him for it, he’s going to keep doing it.

Y = Yuck What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

ᰔ ᩚ In general, Miguel doesn’t like when people aren’t direct. He’s not a mind reader so he prefers when people say exactly how they feel rather than beat around the bush. People have done that far too much with him so he gets irritated when he’s put in a situation where the other party is not being upfront with him. He also hates when people are bullies for no reason. He’s not here to figure out why someone is taking out their insecurities on others but he will put them in their place.

ᰔ ᩚ He also severely hates when people interrupt his sets. If you see he’s using the machine and he’s in the zone, why are you bothering him? He likes to think that he gives off the energy of a determined Gym Bro but in reality, he just looks really hot racking up those weights. Either way, don’t fuck up his set.

ᰔ ᩚ In a partner, he wouldn’t want someone that disrespects his family. He knows it’s a little dysfunctional, but his partner has to be truly dedicated to him before they even think about complaining about his family. He also tends to like his partners on the thicker side. He’s for all bodies, but he prefers when his partner has something he can feel so he honestly wouldn’t like it if his partner was too much smaller than him.

Z = Zzz What is a sleep habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel always needs to hold onto something when he sleeps. Whether that be the pillow, the comforter, or you, he needs something in his arms. It can make for a very hot bed so whenever you guys are going to sleep together or taking a nap, you make sure to have a fan right by the bed. More often than not, he’s sleeping without a shirt on.

ᰔ ᩚ One other habit is how he gets when he’s really sleepy. He gets a bit whiny and grabby with tears threatening to fall with how much he’s yawning. He’ll say things that he won’t remember the next day like how pretty you are or how much he loves you. He might talk in his sleep a bit before he’s completely out of it which makes for hilarious videos. Like this, his snores are a little louder and his face pressed against the pillow is super cute.

ᰔ ᩚ In the morning time, when he doesn’t have a workout planned, he might have a little drool from how hard he slept. If you wake up before him, he’ll squint at the light and mumble about what time it is.

[THE MAJORITY OF THIS SECTION CONTAINS THE TRUE SPOILERS]

A = Aftercare what they’re like after sex

ᰔ ᩚ During sex, he gets in a specific mindset similar to the one he has in the gym, so it might take him a minute or so to snap out of it. He’ll be so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he’ll forget that he needs to stop and make sure that you’re ok. Once he’s back focused, he’ll wipe your body clean and massage the muscles he’s sure to have stretched out. After that, he’s in dire need of cuddles and kisses.

B = Body part their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

ᰔ ᩚ Other than his face, which he agrees is pretty hot, his favorite body part of his own might be his arms. He worked hard for them! He’s always shocked looking back at old pictures of himself, seeing how he’s nearly triple the size, and wondering who that guy is. He also thinks that the Stone side has blessed him greatly with his dick. He’s always been well-endowed. When you came into his life, he found a new great appreciation for his own thighs, although he’s still battling with the thought of you wanting to be choked in them.

ᰔ ᩚ For you, what part of you doesn’t he like? He couldn’t really choose if his life depended on it because there’s so much to love. However, there’s no better feeling than the weight of your ass and thighs against his lap. If you could use him as a chair constantly, he’ll never complain. It’s the perfect position for him to feel you up and plant his face right in your cleavage. If your back is to him while you’re on his lap, then his hands are immediately on your stomach. You used to hate it at first because he would just squeeze at it or tickle you constantly, but he really loves to place his hands on the warmest parts of you, and right under your stomach happens to be one of those zones.

ᰔ ᩚ If he said he liked his forehead being pressed up against your stomach while he ate you out, you wouldn’t get mad, right?

C = Cum anything to do with cum, basically

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel hasn’t really talked about it with you but, he especially loves it when he marks you. You always look so pretty with him painted across his skin, and he has so much to give. When his dick is down your throat and you try your best to swallow all of him, he feels feverish when it spills out down your face. He can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look. When he’s fucking your thighs and it spills onto your skin he just wants to rub it in.

ᰔ ᩚ When he’s inside of you and it just won’t stop dripping out of you, it riles him up even more. You’re his and his alone.

D = Dirty secret pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

ᰔ ᩚ He does have a few! One of which is fantasizing about you riding him on the bench press bench while the other side of the gym is occupied. It’s so unlike him, and when the thought first passed his mind, he was so ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes for a day, nor use the bench press without getting lightheaded. Just the thought of you leaning over him blocking out the bright lights of the gym, sweat dripping onto him, and watching your ass hit his skin in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors was enough to get him to plan out how to build out his gym in his future home.

ᰔ ᩚ Another is the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you before you were officially together. He told you about the wet dreams, but he didn’t tell you how bad it was. He’s not sure if he’s ever produced that much cum in his life. It’s a wonder he was able to hold steady conversations with you with how head-over-heels he was. He fantasized about the sounds you would make and tried to remember how your body felt against his from the little touches you gave him. He tried to hone it down because, god, that’s creepy, but you were so radiant that you never really escaped his mind.

E = Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is what I deem as a “virgin slut.” He’s very inexperienced when it comes to love, relationships, and sex, but he knows too much by proxy. Again, he’s the parent friend that’s always giving advice, so for the most part, he knows what and what not to do. He’s heard about the things that his friends have done and he’s wondered what experiencing it would be like with you.

ᰔ ᩚ Would you like this position? Would you want to try this with him? Does he want to know what this would feel like? While he feels a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, he’s happy that you’re excited to share these new experiences with him.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of sex and foreplay, he’s learning as he goes, going with what feels good and what you react well to. He’s constantly researching, remembering, and trying out new techniques. You’re his first, and if he has any say in it, his last, so he feels that there is plenty of time to get to a more experienced level.

F = Favorite position this goes without saying

ᰔ ᩚ Any position where your breasts are in his face is a position he’s happy in. There’s nothing like watching them bounce while you ride him within an inch of his life. He wants to look at them, he wants to put his mouth on them, he wants to suck them, he wants to bite them: just put them in his face.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel also really adores any position he can hold you in. He notices how excited your body gets when he’s balancing you in his arms while pounding away. You get so wet that he’s mesmerized. The tight feeling of both you around him and your shaking hands gripping his shoulders keeps him going. He really just wants to see every ounce of your body move with him.

ᰔ ᩚ Did he tell you that he wanted you to sit on his face today or did he forget to set his reminder?

G = Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is very serious in the moment because nothing is funny about your pleasure. All the laughing and giggling will happen before he’s sinking into you. He’s very serious about watching your face and your body for anything new and familiar. Did you think something was funny before? Well, he’s making sure that you’re not laughing by the time he’s finished.

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than being goofy, he will ask you something out of left field in the middle of the moment if he feels that you two have something to work out.

H = Hair how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is not the hairiest but he also doesn’t not have hair. His friend waxed him for practice one time and he’s certain that he’ll never let her do that shit again. He keeps his face clean because he feels like growing out his facial hair makes him look scruffy, although you’d argue that he looks pretty cute.

ᰔ ᩚ His happy trail does lead like a nice present to his gift that keeps giving. He will let you trim him from time to time and help him wax when the sun is getting too hot.

I = Intimacy how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

ᰔ ᩚ He is very intimate during the moment, especially during your first few times together. He’s always reassuring you and holding you close. His eyes never really leave your face when you’re pleasuring yourself or reaching your peak. He loves to talk into your skin and your ears.

ᰔ ᩚ If he’s not grabbing onto you, he’s holding your hands and rocking into you. He’s kissing your wrists and your cheeks, wiping any tears away. Where you might not be able to speak, he’s asking yes or no questions, wiping your hair out of your face, and telling you to let go.

J = Jack off masturbation headcanon

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s sessions usually take a lot, but since gaining a roommate, he can’t go all out like he usually does. He cums a lot so he usually has to put a towel down or waits until he gets into the shower to fully let go. He prefers to use both hands whether that means lifting his hips off the bed while he jerks or holding his dick in one hand while playing with his nipple in another.

ᰔ ᩚ His sessions after you both get together were even messier, especially with you giving him new material. Voice recordings, polaroids, phone calls: all of it is being used for him to get off when you’re not near.

ᰔ ᩚ Once, you called him in the middle of one and he was winded as ever. You recognized those breaths the instant he talked and brought him to the hilt with your voice alone. He fell a little more in love with you that day but panicked when you wanted to switch to FaceTime.

ᰔ ᩚ His chest was….a mess, but you giggled at how cute he was anyway.

K = Kink one or more of their kinks

ᰔ ᩚ Praise kink: Miguel loves to hear that he’s doing well. Please tell him that he’s doing well, he craves it. There’s definitely a reason that he needs to hear you urge him on, but your voice always sounds so good when you’re in his ear. Tell him how good he made you feel, tell him you’re proud of him, and maybe call him a good boyfriend and he’ll start trembling.

ᰔ ᩚ Hair pulling: This is one that he didn’t know he had until you accidentally yanked his head too hard while trying to stop him from tickling your stomach with his breath. He kind of froze when the groan came out of him, leaving you staring at each other for about three minutes. Once he realized what happened, his face went beat red and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes for the rest of the night. You promised him it was ok, and tested out a little hair-pulling a few weeks later which he thoroughly enjoyed. He especially loves it when you pull his hair while he’s in between your legs. He cums almost instantly.

ᰔ ᩚ Semi-public sex: There’s something about fooling around in “private” public areas that turns him on. On the balconies of hotel rooms, in private yacht pools, in dressing rooms, in his car: he just can’t wait until he’s in the bedroom, he needs you now. Are you both louder than you should be? Yep. Does he care? Not really.

L = Location favorite places to do the do

ᰔ ᩚ Again, he loves semi-public sex, but he also really loves even more intimate places like on vacation in your hotel room or on your dorm bed when Jess isn’t in there. (Although you’ve told him many times that having sex in that open room could be rude. As a compromise, he brings you to his dorm and fucks you there instead. Peter can live.) He really wants to make love to you in his childhood bedroom (the room is full of him but he wants your scent in his sheets), but he knows his mom is far too nosy for that to even happen. He’s not even sure if he could make out with you without her coming in there to check on you two.

M = Motivation what turns them on, gets them going

ᰔ ᩚ Honestly, you could probably just stand there and Miguel would conjure up a way to be turned on. Seriously though, it’s little things like seeing your midriff or hearing you call him baby in a different tone, especially if you’re doing something sexual, that gets him going. If you do something like extensive PDA (rubbing up against him, kissing him long enough to use tongue, dancing on him), wear clothes that show off your body, or when you stare at him while he’s doing his work.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re wearing a dress that he can see your fupa through? Hard. When you’re doing jumping jacks next to him in the gym during his sets? Turned on. When you wear his clothes? Rock solid. When you take the initiative? Puddy. When you let others know that he’s yours? You might not make it to your destination without him touching you in some way.

N = No something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

ᰔ ᩚ He’s not into degradation AT ALL. He’s way too much of a gentle lover/boyfriend to ever put you on a lower level than him whether it’s supposed to be enjoyable or not.

ᰔ ᩚ He is also not into pain specifically when it comes to giving it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He might do a light smack every now and then but he can’t bring himself to inflict pain, especially if it bruises. The closest you might get to that is if he gets too carried away when pounding into you, and once it’s all over, he’ll feel like a dickhead. It takes him a while to realize that you don’t mind it when his skin is slapping against yours hard enough to sting later.

ᰔ ᩚ One last slight turn off is choking. He’s never going to be comfortable enough to wrap his hands around your neck. You’re determined to let his thighs squeeze you at least once, but if he hurts you by accident, he might do something incredibly drastic.

O = Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel O’Hara is a munch. Miguel Munch O’Hara. He could stay down there for hours. Being that the first time he ate you out he actually had you screaming, he would say that he’s pretty good at it. But! There’s always room for improvement. For example, he wants you to sit on him and he wants to heat you out while you’re sitting on his shoulders. He’s slowly, but surely, inching his way there.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes giving more than receiving mostly because he can’t look down at you giving him head without losing his mind. At least if he’s eating you out, he can keep going if he cums. If he cums while you’re swallowing him, he needs at least a minute or two to reset. Not to mention, the sounds your throat makes when you’re sucking him in makes him conflicted. You promise you like it, and he loves the feeling, but he’s still wary of fucking into your mouth and hurting you.

P = Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s pace is deep, slow, and sensual because he has to pace himself. If he’s wrapped up in you, he’s bound to forget about his own pleasure in place of making sure you’re feeling good, but once you get to sinking him in and squeezing so tight, he wants to hold that out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ They seem nice. If only he could commit to them. Quickies often turn from 10 minutes to 20 minutes to way too long in a compromising position. Also, there’s way too much to clean up for what he does with you to be considered a quickie.

R = Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ With you? He’s willing to try most things, although they’re mainly vanilla. Risks for him might lead to late night trips to CVS for a pregnancy test so it’s best that he researches and plans things out thoroughly. Right now, the most he might be eager to do is change up the positions and try not to touch you.

S = Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a lot of stamina! He’s not in the gym for shits and giggles. Still, to him, he has a lot of work to do in terms of going all night. Right now, he can last for about 2-3 rounds without breaking a sweat. If he focuses on you, he can extend that number to about 4 rounds. His refractory period is also pretty stellar if he must say so himself.

ᰔ ᩚ Now, whether or not you can keep up with him is to be determined.

T = Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been too scared to own a toy living in his mother’s home, so he’s never bought one. (How Gabriel got away with buying the most obscure things, he’ll never know) The only thing he has is the bottle of lube that he frequents and his extra sets of towels to cover his bed.

ᰔ ᩚ On you, he’s happy to try out whatever you’ve got. He was really fascinated with the mechanics of your rose toy, but he’s also determined to make you have the same reaction with just his mouth alone. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t make you forget about your tiny pieces of plastic?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s also interested in trying out different types of lube, but he’s got to research which ones are really worth it.

U = Unfair how much they like to tease

ᰔ ᩚ Open the dictionary, flip to the T section, slide down the pages until you find the word “tease,” and you’ll see Miguel’s government name on the third definition of the word. He likes to claim that you’re a tease when really, he’s just a horny himbo. He knows what he’s doing when he sends you sweaty gym pictures. He knows what he’s doing when he dresses up all nice for you. He knows what he’s doing he’s all in your face in public, feening for a reaction out of you. He messes with you on purpose.

ᰔ ᩚ Let this behavior make it to the bedroom and he’s either going to regret it once you take over OR he’s going to continue it until you’re coming apart in his arms. Teasing you always leads to great, great sex.

V = Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is loud as fuck. He has to cover his mouth when he’s alone in his room thinking about you. When he’s inside of you, if he’s not moaning into your mouth, he’s breathing heavy right in your ear or groaning loudly right into your shoulders. He’ll often be louder than you. If you’re moaning with him, he encourages you and sings right along with you.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re focusing on his pleasure, he’s hyper-aware of the sounds he makes so he tries to muffle them which leads to whimpers and whines. You love it when he gets this way.

W = Wild card a random headcanon for the character

ᰔ ᩚ Hip thrusts are a great exercise for the lower half of your body and should never be missed on leg day. They pinpoint the glutes, the abs, the hips, the hamstrings, the back, and the quads. With a steady added weight, anyone who is doing this exercise possibly is sure to grow those muscles greatly over time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is never missing a chance to do hip thrusts because he is determined to fuck you this way. He can only imagine the shock on your face as he holds you up and pumps into you with a steady rhythm.

ᰔ ᩚ He’s never missing leg day.

X = X-ray let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

ᰔ ᩚ He’s definitely a shower which is why his tiny little exercise shorts can get buck-eyed looks sometimes. The first time you saw him, you felt yourself panic a bit. But the weight in your mouth? Indescribable.

ᰔ ᩚ To you, he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess, he’s probably 8- 9 inches, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re watching him leak like a faucet. He curves so nicely and definitely feel the effect of it when he lands. Watching it twitch to life has given you more inspiration than you care to admit.

Y = Yearning how high is their sex drive?

ᰔ ᩚ It’s too high for his own good. He can switch like a light and be ready to go down in you within minutes. It’s that foggy himbo mindset and the fact that you’re his first girlfriend. There have been many times where he’s gotten distracted by just thinking about you and the things he wants to do. He riles himself up when researching techniques, so of course he’s ready to be in you at any time.

Z = Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

ᰔ ᩚ Once you’ve both settled down, he’s out like a log. Let’s be real, not only has he probably worked himself up, but you definitely knocked him out with how good you gave it to him. He uses all the stamina during sex and when it’s over, the energy just fizzles out. It’s funny because you would think you were supposed to be the one that’s barely holding on, but there he is, mumbling into your skin.

ᰔ ᩚ This is definitely the time to get really soft responses out of him: satisfied, pussy-whipped, and dozing off.

This was really fun! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

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botanyshitposts · 8 months ago

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ok INCREDIBLY old content originally meant for this blog but in 2018 when i was just a wee lad with a little spinner propeller hat and big rainbow lollipop i went to a carnivorous plant convention in california and met a bunch of people who breed/collect/study these guys. one person was this collector who was slowly working on leaving the hobby or at least no longer growing plants, and he had a bunch of carnivorous plant related files he was charging like 50 cents for or something, and so i came into possession of these, which are examples of the kind of paperwork you have to have done to legally ship/trade endangered species of both plants and animals. functionally very boring paperwork, but something i found like, incredibly fascinating. i blacked out the personal id of the person and then immediately forgot to ever upload them, lmao.

these plants were bred and raised in a greenhouse and sold abroad, not taken from the wild, but because the species are endangered and often protected in their native countries (most of these are nepenthes, asian pitcher plants, a huge family spread throughout oceania and southeast asia), there's a lot more documentation that needs to be done regardless of their origin, both on the end of the seller and on the end of the buyer.

the rabbit hole on carnivorous plant trade is deep and kind of wild. there's plenty of common, non-threatened, greenhouse-grown pitcher plants on the market that people buy all the time, even non-collectors, but there's a whole debate to be had on if it's morally okay to be collecting the more endangered/rare of these plants in the first place. the big argument for breeding is that breeding them in captivity means there's more supply that's not poached from the wild, meaning poachers have less of an incentive to take the risk of taking adult plants from their habitats; from what i've heard, sometimes countries will issue permits for breeders to collect some wild seeds just to create a non-wild breeding pool to drive down the price. predictably, however, you also get people who are very much willing to pay a lot of money to get as rare of a plant as possible.

anyone familiar with the allure valuable plants have had over people throughout history can imagine the rest, but here's an article about a guy who started buying poached plants to enrich his private nepenthes collection, who then got busted by a fish and wildlife service agent embedded in his carvirorous plant circle. the plants this guy was buying were being sold to him without any CITES paperwork or declarations like the ones above; it was literally just a guy in indonesia taking rare plants from the woods around where he lived, selling them over facebook marketplace and ebay, and mailing them overseas as an undeclared 'gift' to get around customs. frighteningly small steps to take on all sides, to be honest.

(also, fun fact: another example of carnivorous plants that get poached are wild venus fly traps, which are only native to north and south carolina in the US. from what i understand it's a mix of people who genuinely did not know it's a native species and people who really are just going out into the woods and digging up plants to sell online. sometimes poaching is closer to home than you'd think!)

anyway. wild and interesting times in the land of plants recovered from a hard drive lmao

#nepenthes #annual 'plant poaching happens and it doesnt always look like the movies' post i suppose but also i think its really interesting #also the CITES system could do with an overhaul in how it approaches plants as well from what i understand but thats another thing #ive heard that like many systems like this they do not have the same urgency for plants as they do for animals #mostly because people just!! they dont get plants man!! they just say whatever its a plant!!#and poaching in general is only ever talked about like its with taking elephants for their tusks and stuff #also important conservation work but sometimes poaching really is just a guy with a shovel and that shit is WILD #carnivorous plants

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yanderelionwrites · 3 months ago

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Yandere Lists: How They Mark You as Theirs

Decided to start adding twst characters to these types of posts

Content Warning: yandere, biting, branding, cutting, forced tattooing, possessiveness

Jewelry - Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings… Basically, if it shines, they’re buying it to adorn you with. No price is too big for their Darling. They’re very meticulous in choosing what will look best on you, comparing different jewels and deciding what will compliment your eye color. Jewelry is the perfect way to show off that you are theirs; it doesn’t mar your skin and it only enhances your already ethereal beauty 💎

| MHA: All Might, Ashido, Deku, HAWKS, Iida, KAMINARI, Mr. Compress, Natsuo, Nejire, Overhaul, RE-DESTRO, Shoto, Tamaki, Tokoyami, TWICE, YAOYOROZU

| Twst: AZUL, Crewel, JADE, Jamil, KALIM, MALLEUS, Riddle, Rollo, ROOK, Sebek, Silver, VIL

Clothing - Similar to the jewelry givers, these Yanderes avoid physically marking you by buying new outfits for you to wear. They revel in the fact that they bought you everything you’re wearing. They’re the reason you’re dressed in such nice clothes. They also like making you wear their own clothes, if only to see you completely engulfed in them. Having their scent surround you is just a bonus 👚

| MHA: Aizawa, All Might, ASHIDO, BAKUGO, Deku, Fat Gum, HAWKS, Jiro, Kaminari, Kirishima, Mirio, NATSUO, Present Mic, SERO, Shigaraki, Shinso, Shoji, Tsuyu, Twice, Uraraka, YAOYOROZU

| Twst: ACE, Cater, CREWEL, Deuce, Epel, Floyd, Idia, Jack, KALIM, Malleus, ROOK, Sebek, Trey, VIL

Biting - These Yanderes need more than material items to mark you as theirs. They need to physically show everyone that you belong to them by leaving hickies and bite marks all over you. They love tracing your reddened skin afterwards, thinking you look so pretty like this. They won’t tolerate you hiding them either. No, Darling, you’re going to show off each and every mark. How else will people know that you are already taken? 🦷

| MHA: BAKUGO, Dabi, Kirishima, Midnight, Mirko, Shigaraki, Spinner, TOGA

| Twst: FLOYD, Jack, Jade, LEONA, LILIA, Rook, RUGGIE

Tattoos - Jewelry can be taken off, clothing can be removed, and bites can heal… Something more permanent is in order… How about matching tattoos, Darling? You can even choose the design and where it will go! If you’re willing, then you can pick a spot that’s easy to cover up. If you’re not, well… They may force you to get one anyway. And it will be in a place that’s not as easy to hide 🪡

| MHA: Bakugo, Dabi, Kaminari, Present Mic

| Twst: Ace, Floyd, Leona, Sam

Branding/Cutting - The most extreme way a Yandere can mark you, either by burning or carving their name into your skin. They’ll only resort to this if you’ve misbehaved one too many times, and they’ll make sure to draw out the process so you don’t forget the lesson they are literally drilling into you. You are theirs, and there is nothing you can do about it now that that reminder is permanently marked on you 🔪🔥

| MHA: All For One, DABI, Endeavor, TOGA

| Twst: I don’t really see any of them doing this tbh

#yandere #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #mha yandere lists #yandere lists #twst yandere lists #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland

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dragonotaku-justineverything · 9 days ago

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It's been a while, idk if your still writing for RWBY but if you are can I ask for 5 ships reactions to Jaune getting a tattoo over his crotch reading "Property of" with their full names

I will likely always be writing for RWBY. It is what got me into actually writing and posting real content online, or at least the courage to finally start after dreaming to do it for years.

Since you didn't specify, the five RWBY girls I used were picked using a random spinner app with a list of all the RWBY girls.

Emerald Sustrai

Emerald stared wide eyed at the green text print on her (recently agreed upon) boyfriend, right on his pelvis, just above his crotch. When he said that he had a surprise for her and started undoing his buckle, she rolled her eyes at the cheesy as hell way to start some foreplay.

Not that she wasn't ready to go along with it. He had whipped up a great dinner for them tonight and she was quickly realizing that she loved a man that could cook.

She was not expecting to see him show off a tattoo. And not one with her name on it. "What do you think?"

She wasn't too sure what she thought about it, but definitely knew what she wanted to ask. "Wow... it looks... good. My emblem is a nice touch I guess. But ummm... why did you even get it?"

Jaune let go of the hem of his shirt that he'd been holding out of the way, partially covering the tattoo. "W-well... When we talked about our pasts a while ago... you said you never really had or owned anything for yourself." Emerald didn't need that being brought up again, it was awkward enough talking about it with him the first time. She quickly just agreed with a sharp nod, not wanting to deal with it all over again now. "Well... I thought now... you could at least own... me. That you'll always have me?"

Oh.

Oh damn...

He could have definitely tried to sound more confident when saying that... but damn if that line didn't do things to Emerald. Both making her cheeks flush and her heart race.

And also getting her very turned on.

"You are getting so much ass tonight."

"W-what?!"

Emerald sashayed her way over to her blushing dork, her ass swaying side to side. "Use your semblance on me. Then you're going to find out just how much that ink of yours is going to pay off."

Jaune's earlier surprise was quickly being replaced by excitement. But he was still a little confused, which persisted even as Emerald reached him and lifted up his shirt with one of her nimble hands. But he was still confused. "Why do you want me to use my semblance on you?"

Emerald lifted her knee up between his legs to gently rub his crotch. "Because I want to make sure I can last all night with you~"

"O-oh."

"Yup. Now, boost me up and dick me down you mushy goofball~."

Emerald jumped up and let herself be caught by Jaune, his hands gripping onto her ass through her shorts and giving them each plump cheek a squeeze. Emerald wrapped her legs around him and kissed him as deeply as she could before he carried her off to the nearest bedroom, his hands and her body starting to faintly glow white and green as the door shut behind them.

---------------------------

May Zedong

“W-what is that!?” May felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment when Jaune first started to lift up his shirt and pull his jeans down a bit. No matter how much she and him saw each other naked before, she still couldn't help but get bashful. However, when she saw the writing printed on his... very defined abs, her face went from warm to burning.

Jaune seemed to be catching some of her embarrassment since “W-well it’s a tattoo…”

May whined while she lifted up the collar of her jacket and the bottom of her beanie down, trying her best to hide her redding face from her boyfriend. "I know that! But why does it say that y-you're.... Why does it say THAT!?"

Jaune let his shirt drop, covering the tattoo again. "Well I-I heard about what those girls from Vacuo picking on you, and about what they said. And I just wanted to do something for you to make you feel better..."

"Why do you think this would make me feel better!?"

"B-because they said no one would... love you... and all that other stuff. W-well they're wrong! And this proves it! I-I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help you with those bullies at the time, but I got this to show you that I'll always be there for you in the end."

Now that stunned May, so much so that the blood receded from her face quickly and her jaw went a little slack. She stopped trying to hide her face, and looked at Jaune's. While his cheeks were very red, his eyes met hers and she saw the determination in them, meaning every word he said.

"C-can I see it again?"

Without hesitation or any question, Jaune lifted the bottom of his hoodie up again to show her the tattoo. A goofy smile dawned on his lips again.

...

May slowly walked forwards to him. When she was close enough, she slowly started to trace the inked skin with her index finger. Then she placed her hand on his abdomen, her thumb still rubbing the image of a hat in the corner, a hat that was nearly identical to her own signature beanie. "I-I like that it has my beanie... it's a really nice touch."

"S-so you like it?"

May slowly nodded, letting out a low, "Mmm-hmm", confirming that she did indeed like her boyfriend's tattoo. And it was certainly no lie.

"Eeep!"

Nor was it a lie to say that the squeak that she let out when Jaune suddenly hugged her wasn't adorable.

Jaune spun her around twice before placing her feet back on the ground. "I'm happy you like May! I really hoped you would. I just wanted to show you that I'll always be yours... because I love you."

May hugged Jaune back for a moment, only to pull back and plant a kiss on his smiling lips before flashing a rarely seen bright smile. "...I love you too, Jaune."

---------------------------

Blake Belladonna

"B-Blake? Are you okay."

Jaune's worried tone and question fell deft on two sets of ears, not that he really needed an answer. For Blake was certainly not okay... Her increasingly heavy panting and dilated eyes were a clear indicator of that fact. She didn't even bother trying to hide it because she thought her response was very justified!

Her boyfriend decided he wanted to surprise her in her room after a lovely date, so after waiting a decent amount of time to let him 'get ready', she walked in on him laying shirtless on their bed, with one of her favorite books placed on his toned abdominal muscles. She rolled her eyes at him at first, but it was only when she playfully snatched the book off his stomach for them to get the most fun part of the night started did she realize what his real surprise was.

Her name, tattooed a few inches above his crotch. And clearly listing him as her property...

Dust and Brother gods alike... that was so freaking hot. It was something she had never known she needed to see up to this point. Something so simple, yet unlocking something deep within Blake's mind and body. Something primal... lustful. And now that she had seen it, she knew what she wanted next.

Jaune yelped as Blake literally pounced onto the bed, landing above him and silencing his surprised noise with a kiss. A deep kiss. A VERY deep kiss. Her tongue wrestling with his, and trading their saliva while doing so, absolutely caught Jaune by surprise.

And he was just as surprised when she pulled away, their tongues still extended since they had been mid-kiss.

Blake looked down at Jaune, panting and blushing heavily. "This means you're mine now, Jaune. And I plan to enjoy every part of you tonight~."

"O-okay."

Blake ground her hips back and forth against Jaune's, getting some pleasurable friction between them and both moaning as she went over her growing erection in his pants. "I'm starting on top tonight. Does that sound good?"

Blake grinned as Jaune nodded to her, placing his hands on her thighs to keep her where she was. She reached behind her and unzipped her top. She wanted to waste no more time getting on with a very fun night with her, now very much marked, man~.

---------------------------

Robyn Hill (was bit of a new challenge writing for her)

"I-I thought I should show you m-my support..."

“So you got… a tattoo?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Of my name!?

"...yes..." Jaune nodded, slowly lowering his hoodie and shirt back down to cover his belly button and the green ink below it again.

"But if you wanted to show support for me, why did you get it down there?!”

He winced the smallest bit as Robyn raised her voice at him a little. “W-well… you seemed kinda… j-jealous when all of those moms of the kids I was a crossing guard for were flirting with me at your rallies… despite me telling them I was taken!” Jaune added the last part quickly when he saw Robyn’s gaze narrow when he brought up those hussies…

“So I… thought that this would be nice and I-I wanted to show you that... well... you're the only one that gets to see this part of me..."

Robyn was very silent, standing with her arms crossed and staring at him with a raised eyebrow. She was honestly having a hard time believing that he had really done something like this. He had seemed like such an innocent goodie two shoes when she met him. But… he did suggest stealing an Atlesian airship to get to Mantle in the first place… AND had asked her out in the first place… honestly, all things considered...

Robyn smiled as she uncrossed her arms and slowly walked towards Jaune. "Well... I do like seeing my name printed out."

"You do? Awesome! I'm so glad. I was worried tha- Mmmmh!"

Jaune was cut off as Robyn quickly grabbed him by the top of his chestplate and pulled him towards her. Her lips captured his own in a passionate kiss. One she was very much in control of. She had her fun for a few seconds before pushing Jaune back so they could both take a breath.

Jaune also took the break in the kiss to give a goofy smile. “That… that was nice…”

Robyn chuckled to herself, her grip on Jaune not letting go. “Yes, it was~. Now… How about I get through this rally quickly and then we go somewhere private where I can show you how much I appreciate your support~? Somewhere I can admire that tattoo fully while I sit comfortably on that face of yours~? Does that sound like a good idea to you Mr. Strategist?”

“Y-yes! S-sounds great actually!”

Robyn licked her lips and grinned as her hand grabbing Jaune's chestplate glowed green.

---------------------------

Bleiss Gele

Bleiss was nearly drooling when she saw her darling lift up his shirt to show off those dust shredding abs of his. But when she saw what it was he exactly wanted to show her, she nearly fainted from pure excitement and blood loss from a nosebleed.

It was her name! Right below her darling’s defined abs! It was all she could ever have dreamed about and more! This was amazing! No more skanks or bimbos trying to steal her man! Or they could try, but he has proof of her claim now!

“Oh darling, it's wonderful!” Bleiss squealed in joy as she jumped into Jaune’s arms. Jaune, being quick to drop the bottom of his hoodie he was holding up, caught her easily with his arms around her. The only trouble he had holding her up was from how much she was kicking her legs in joy. Her giggling was also so infectious that Jaune couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

“I guess you like it, huh?” Jaune slowly lowered his girlfriend back to the ground, but still kept her close in a hug. Mainly because Bleiss was still trying to squeeze the air out of him.

“Like it?! I love it! You know me so well darling!” If it was possible, her hug on him got even tighter. “I love that you are happy to show me off as your future wife like that!” Bleiss ended her sentence by nuzzling her head into Jaune’s chest.

“Hehe… well… I’m glad you like it.”

“I really do! And it’s even better because we match now!”

“...what?”

Bleiss’ wide smile shifted into a knowing smirk as she let go of Jaune finally and stepped back a small distance. “Guess it’s time for my surprise now darling~!” She turned around and flicked up her skirt, revealing something that made Jaune’s eyes widen and his jaw drop.

On her right cheek was her own tattoo. One quite similar to the one that he had gotten for her. And the yellow ink reading out his name over the Arc family emblem was very noticeable on her pale rear.

Bleiss looked over her shoulder at Jaune, smirking confidently. “What do ya think~?

Jaune couldn’t respond. His jaw was still slack and his eyes were wider than dinner plates. He was having trouble looking away from such a sight. But the lower half of his body was very telling instead.

And Bleiss was happy to accept that version of approval. But she wasn’t done there either. With a shake of her ass, she asked ‘innocently’, “Hey darling, want to see if we can make our ink touch~?”

I didn't really know which version of Bliess's last name, so I picked Gele as that makes the most sense of what she'd like to be called being the (literal) black sheep of the family. She'd prefer to go by her mother's name and Jaune would absolutely respect that.

#rwby #jaune arc #emerald sustrai #may zedong #blake belladonna #robyn hill #bliess schnee #bliess gele #jaune x emerald #jaune x may #jaune x blake #jaune x robyn #jaune x bliess #topaz #berthier #knightshade #blackguard #ask

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milkteabinniechan · 10 months ago

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all twisted up

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY ☕|m.list

pairing: Upperclassmen Chan x Underclassmen Felix

contents: college classmates Chan and Felix need to study for exams. But Felix is stressed, and Chan has a fun way to break the tension.

a/n: this was so much fun to write!! I am caught up in this whole academia au so please let me know if you want more :))

"You look absolutely desperate like this, you know."

Felix hissed through his teeth. He hated losing. Despised it. He pushed his arm through an an available opening.

"Who's idea was it to play Twister anyway?" Felix grunted.

Chan chortled heartily as he spun the wheel for the next move. Felix could feel his arm getting numb. How he managed to work himself into such a ridiculous shape he'll never know. Somehow he was on all fours, facing upward, with his right hand looped through Chan's legs, touching the yellow circle in front of it. Barely.

"Right foot red!" Chan shouted victoriously. A red circle placed a little too perfectly in front of his right leg. He was still standing, comfortable and confident. He lightly tapped his right toe onto the red circle.

"You're cheating!" Felix huffed. His legs beginning to shake from the cumbersome position.

"How would I do that? That spinner is completely random." Chan patted Felix's head like a puppy. "I know you hate losing, buddy."

Felix shook Chan's hand off of his head. He wouldn't give up this easily. He was no quitter. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath in, preparing for whatever the next move may be.

"Just spin the wheel, big boy." Felix gave a glaring look up at Chan.

Chan swallowed hard at the sound of being called big boy by his friend. A reaction he didn't expect his body to have. He leaned forward to spin the wheel on the floor. The tiny black needle spun fast until...

"Left foot blue." Chan muttered. They both turned to look at the next available circle. The only one even remotely possible for Felix to reach. The distance was still too far and they both knew it.

Felix took another full breath. He watched the blue circle in front of him as if it would move or jump further from him. It sat just a few inches from where his right hand was, underneath Chan. If he took his weight off his left hand to move it, he could fall. Felix knew his next move had to be made carefully. He slowly lifted himself from the crab position he was holding so that he was crouched. His right hand still holding strong, he stretched his left hand out through Chan's legs and reached for the blue circle.

In an instant, his balancing skills betrayed him. His right hand slipped beneath him, carrying too much of the weight. He fell to the matt with a thud.

"Damn it!" Felix squirmed, his leg swiping across Chan's shin, causing him to lose his balance.

Chan fell with a heaviness on top of Felix. Their faces just inches from each other. Felix's eyes were the most beautiful color, Chan had forgotten how clear they were. How they sparkled when the light caught them. Felix's breath hitched in his throat. His eyes pulled towards Chan's full lips, wet tongue resting inside. His hips swiveled underneath Chan's waist.

They were supposed to be studying. They had exams at the end of the month. Felix had to pass this semester or he'd be expelled from the university. Chan had offered to help him study. That's what they were supposed to be doing. Now Felix could feel all of the blood rushing somewhere else. His pants tightened and his hands were starting to move on their own.

Felix grabbed the bottom of Chan's shirt, and pulled it towards him. Chan eased his body down in response and craned his head up over Felix, so his entire body was towering over him. Chan playfully nudged his lips across Felix's mouth, letting their lips touch quickly, grazing himself in and out. Felix mimicked Chan's movements and let his lips flick and brush across his upperclassmen's open mouth.

Chan began to thrust his hips slowly. Felix whimpered at the feeling of the bulge against his own. Felix lifted his head in earnest and pressed his mouth against Chan's. The kiss pushed and pulled like ocean waves hitting the shore. Chan continued to grind desperately against Felix's clothed cock. Moaning filled both of their open, squelching mouths until they pulled again, a single strand of saliva still connecting them.

"I told you Twister would be fun, didn't I?" Chan growled with a smirk.

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dee-writes-anime · 4 months ago

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I don’t know if you watched the Disney movie “Haunted Mansion” (the one with Eddie Murphy) since Halloween is just around the corner I thought this one would make you laugh? Imagine the League Of Villains are staying with reader at reader’s families haunted mansion that reader inherited (from a family member) BUUUUUUT……. Reader forgot to tell the league that their family mansion is haunted🤭😅

Just take your time on this one, i understand that college is a pain in the ass but I thought this one would brighten up your day!😃 so take care and remember to eat, drink water, rest and relax you’ll get through it😁👍

Haunted Mansions Aren't for the Weak

FEATURING League Of Villians x Reader (platonic)

SUMMARY Haunted Mansion shenanigans

CONTENT WARNINGS creepy mansions, ghosts, crack

AUTHORS NOTE this idea had me cackling, hope you don't mind the different format :)

Oh my GOD, I can just imagine after a particularly messy job, the League of Villains finds themselves in need of a new hideout. That's when you casually suggest your family mansion. It's huge, tucked away in the middle of nowhere, and basically perfect for keeping a low profile. Without thinking twice, the League agrees.

Upon arrival, the mansion looms before them, towering and intimidating, with ivy creeping up the stone walls and gargoyles perched on the corners of the roof. The overgrown garden whispers in the breeze, and the massive iron gates groan as they swing open. Spinner glances uneasily at the place, muttering, "Great. Of course, it's a creepy mansion in the middle of nowhere."

The inside is even more imposing. Dusty chandeliers, creaky wooden floors, dark tapestries—everything you’d expect in a haunted mansion. But the League doesn't mind; they’ve seen worse. Besides, they're here to lay low, and it's not like anything can scare the most feared villains in the country... or so they think.

You lead them through the darkened corridors and give them a brief tour. “Oh, the rooms upstairs are bigger. Some of them have their own fireplaces. There’s a library down the hall, and the kitchen’s fully stocked. Feel free to explore, make yourselves at home. Oh, and about the ghosts…”

Shigaraki interrupts, scratching at his neck in irritation. “Ghosts? You’re not serious.”

You give a sheepish shrug. “Yeah, well, the place is a little haunted… by my ancestors. But they’re harmless. Nothing to worry about, I swear.”

Dabi, arms crossed, leans against the wall, smirking. “Right. Ghosts. Sure. What are we, five years old?” His tone oozes disbelief, but the moment his arm touches the wall, it groans, and the portrait next to him tilts on its own. He glances at it, then back at you. “You’re messing with us.”

You shake your head, trying to be casual. “Nope. Just, uh, don’t mind them.”

And so, the League settles in, trying to ignore the faint, unsettling noises that seem to echo through the hallways.

The First Night:

That’s when things start to get weird. As night falls, Shigaraki is the first to notice the peculiar happenings. His irritation grows as he hears soft, persistent scratching—from inside the walls. “Who the hell is scratching the walls? Is someone trying to be funny?” His voice cuts through the dark as he storms out of his room, hands twitching with the urge to disintegrate something.

No one answers. It only gets worse as he stalks down the hall, the sounds following him, scratching just out of reach. When he slams a hand on the wall in frustration, the wall scratches back.

“Okay. That’s new,” he mutters, backing away, suspicious now. For once, he isn’t the one scaring people—he’s the one being scared.

Meanwhile, Dabi...

Dabi has always been a skeptic, never one to believe in ghosts or any supernatural nonsense. He scoffs at the others’ complaints and locks himself in one of the rooms, claiming it as his own. He’s dead tired, and all he wants is to sleep.

But sleep doesn’t come easy.

No matter how many flames he conjures, the room stays cold. Icy, in fact. His breath puffs out in clouds as if he were in a freezer. He scowls, huddling under his jacket, muttering, “This is ridiculous.”

Just as he’s about to doze off, something knocks at his door. He groans. “What now?” When he opens it, there’s no one there. He’s about to close it when suddenly, a gust of cold air blows through, extinguishing the fire he had set in the fireplace. The door slams shut behind him, and he grumbles, “Fine. You win, mansion. This place is cursed.”

Despite his bravado, Dabi doesn’t get much sleep that night.

Toga, on the other hand, is thriving.

She’s completely unbothered by the eerie atmosphere. In fact, she’s excited. “Ghosts?” she grins, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I wanna meet them!” She skips down the hallways, gleefully chasing after strange noises and shadowy figures, trying to coax them into playing with her.

At one point, she catches sight of a ghostly figure floating through the walls. “Wait!” she calls out, sprinting after it. She rounds a corner only to find herself face-to-face with a portrait of a stern-looking old woman. The figure from earlier is gone, but the eyes in the painting follow her. Toga laughs. “Aww, you’re shy! Don’t be shy, I just wanna see you!”

The ghost doesn’t answer, but the painting tilts slightly, as if amused by her antics. Toga claps her hands, delighted. “Oh, I like this place!”

Twice’s internal debate hits its peak.

At first, he’s thrilled by the idea of staying in a mansion—it’s way better than the dingy places they’ve hidden in before. But as the ghostly occurrences start piling up, his personalities clash.

“Ghosts aren’t real!” he insists, pacing around his room. “But what if they are?” he counters himself, wringing his hands nervously. “Nah, no such thing as ghosts. I’m not scared of them anyway! Wait, yes I am!”

The lights flicker, and a faint whisper floats through the air. Twice freezes, eyes wide. “Okay, maybe I am scared! No, I’m not! But I am!”

He spends the rest of the night going back and forth with himself, unable to make up his mind if he should be terrified or excited. Every time something creaks or a shadow passes by, he jumps, muttering under his breath about how he’s definitely not scared… except when he is.

Spinner tries to be the voice of reason, but he’s just as shaken.

At first, he brushes off the strange occurrences, chalking them up to the age of the house. “Old houses make noise,” he tells himself, clutching his sword. But when the furniture in his room starts moving on its own, he’s not so sure anymore.

He wakes up to find his bed shifted three feet from the wall. His eyes widen, and he nervously pushes it back, only to find it moved again when he turns around. “Okay… nope. Nope. I hate this.”

Mr. Compress tries to stay composed, but even his patience is tested.

He watches as his finely tuned sleight-of-hand tricks start to malfunction. His carefully hidden compartments seem to open on their own, and the objects inside—his tools of the trade—disappear, only to reappear in random places around the mansion.

At one point, his mask is knocked off his face by an invisible hand. “Well, that’s just rude,” he huffs, hurriedly putting it back on, unnerved but trying to play it off.

Kurogiri, the last bastion of calm, begins to waver.

He usually keeps his cool no matter the situation, but when he appears to check on the others, he looks a bit… frazzled. “There are several spirits in this mansion,” he informs you. “And they are not particularly pleased with our presence.”

You, still oblivious to how badly the League is handling the situation, just wave it off with a laugh. “They’re just bored. They like to play little tricks, but they won’t hurt anyone. Probably.”

The Grand Reveal:

By the end of the night, the League is exhausted, either from chasing ghosts or avoiding them. Dabi is muttering about burning the whole place down. Shigaraki is plotting how to kill the ghosts (if that’s even possible), and Twice is still arguing with himself. Spinner is crouched in a corner, sword in hand, ready to strike at any moving furniture.

Finally, you gather them all in the main hall, completely nonchalant. “I guess I should’ve warned you guys… the house has always been like this. My family made peace with the ghosts ages ago.”

The League stares at you, utterly deadpan. No one is amused.

“Well,” you add with a smile, “at least it’s free rent?”

The rest of their stay is spent with the League trying to avoid the ghosts as much as possible. Dabi never leaves his room without a flame in hand. Shigaraki spends the days glaring at the walls. Toga, meanwhile, continues to gleefully chase after the spirits, making the whole situation even more chaotic.

By the time they leave, no one can deny it—villains or not, haunted mansions are not their thing.

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moodyvoid · 3 months ago

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idk how much x reader content you do but i need your thoughts on a throuple with spinner and shigaraki. it's just too perfect lol

A gamer on each arm 😏

Spinner would be the one who’s always going out of his way for the both of you. I headcanon him as an acts of service kind of guy so anything you want, he’ll make it happen. He’s still so shy about affection and melts when you and Shigaraki are both flirting with him.

Shigaraki wants both of you around him at all times. He’s very protective. He’s surprisingly in tune with your feelings and he knows how to cheer both of you up. He’s a little a lot more needy than Spinner when it comes to any kind of affection.

Fair warning, they are going to pull you into their geek disputes like which game is better, or what actor portrayed a character better and whoever you don’t agree with will be pouty (but smooches will make it better).

And of course they’re going to play video games with you all the time. They’re going to bicker about who gets you on their team. They’re going to both sit there in silent shock when you wipe the floor with them during a game.

They’d both commit unspeakable acts of violence for you 🥰💖✨💕

#thanks for the ask 🖤#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #league of villains #shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura #tomura shigaraki #spinner #shuichi iguchi #bnha spinner #mha spinner #spinaraki #spinneraki #spinnaraki

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mango-bango-bby · 2 years ago

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Hi! Is it okay if I request platonic Yandere LOV with Dabi’s sister? Like they fight over who gets to babysit her while Dabi run errands? Thank you! I love your content!

♡ Babysitter ♡

(A/N: I genuinely love platonic LOV so much!! I’ve been getting so many platonic bnha request’s lately and I love it so much!! It’s the best for comfort 💞)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, children, the league fighting over reader, reader cries

Summary: Dabi has to leave for an errand, so the league has to babysit you (Yan!platonic!brother!Dabi x GN!child!reader + Platonic!LOV x GN!child!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Dabi did his best to take care of you. He did the best he could with his lifestyle. You stayed in the leagues hideout most of the time, almost never going out. You were still pretty young and stayed away from the outside, as your brother advised you to.

He actually trusted most of the league around you, some of the villains that would visit weren’t as trusted then he would keep you locked up in your room. He knew the ones he trusted though, he knew they wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m going out” Dabi says, placing you down on the couch. “You’re in charge, watch Y/n” He says, leaving the underground bar. He had noticed that your roots were starting to grow back in. Although not healthy for your hair, he couldn’t risk your identity being even some what findable through your fiery red hair that you got from your father. So he needed to go get more hair dye.

All of the villains in the room look at you as you sit with your toys in your lap. You just play with your small lego’s, not even noticing that your brother had left. The only problem was that no one knew who exactly he was talking to.

“Hehe, c’mon Y/n, let’s go paint your nails” Himiko giggles going to pick you up, only to be interrupted by Spinner. “Don’t leave, I’m supposed to be watching them” He whines, watching Himiko hold you. She only blinks at him.

“No, I’m watching them! I’m they’re favorite! Y/n loves spending time with their auntie Himiko! Isn’t that right, cutie?” She says, blowing a raspberry on your stomach before putting you back down on the couch to play with your toys.

“He left me in charge” Tomura mumbles, his eyes focused on his game on the TV. “What? Why would you be in charge?” Spinner asks, Tomura rolling his eyes. “Because I’m the leader” He says as if it were obvious.

Kurogiri sighs from behind the bar while cleaning glasses. “You all are so immature, that’s why he left me to watch them” He says, earning huffs from around the room. But they’re cut off by a small knock on a door.

“Dabi?” you say, knocking on his door. None of them were watching, you had left to the hallway. “Dabi” you say walking into the room, looking everywhere, even under the bed as if he could fit under there. “Where’s Dabi?” you whine, walking back into the lounge area, still looking for him. You were still very young but you could speak with very small sentences.

“He’s not here” Tomura states, not even thinking before saying it. “No-“ You whine, balling up your fist as tears start welling up in your eyes. “No, no, please don’t cry” Spinner panics, Himiko also trying to comfort you but it only makes you cry more.

“I want Dabi!” You cry, Dabi facepalming as he walks through the door with a box of hair dye in his hand. He walks by swooping you up into his arms.

“Can’t even leave you alone with them for five minutes” He huffs, carrying you off to your room as your crying calms now that he’s here.

This only causes another fight, they never did find out exactly who he was talking to.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere bnha x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere dabi #platonic yandere league of villains #yandere lov #platonic yandere lov #platonic yandere bnha

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scary-grace · 2 months ago

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what I don't remember now (part ii) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Tomura's life doesn't end when his death sentence is handed down, and he knows damn well that he's innocent. It won't be long before one of his appeals proves it, and he can come home -- back to his friends, and back to you, the girlfriend who stood by him through the trial. But death row is a nightmare Tomura can't wake up from, and as the years behind bars begin to pile up, Tomura starts to question if it really matters whether he did it. If he'll ever be free. And if you and the other people who love him have forgotten him for good. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is the prequel fic to 'if my heart was a house', and covers what's happened to Tomura since the last time he and the reader saw each other. I did a not-insignificant amount of research into the criminal justice system in Japan, specifically on prison conditions, prisoner treatment, and the administration of the death penalty. There is some dark and potentially triggering content, especially in later chapters (execution, suicide attempt, etc) so please be wary! dividers/banners by @cafekitsune

part i part ii part iii

part ii

seven

Tomura spends most of the next year in and out of the protection cell – whenever someone else isn’t using it, the guards find a reason to throw him in. In the protection cell it’s easy to lose track of time. The lights never go out, and his food comes at strange intervals, and even when it’s there, the way Tomura’s restrained makes it almost impossible to eat. His hand aches constantly, and his mind keeps wandering away, trying to find a memory strong enough to hide in. He has a few. Most of them involve his friends. And you.

He remembers going to the arcade in a big, stupid group for Spinner’s birthday, when only he and Spinner could play any of the games without dying instantly. Tomura got a kick out of watching everybody else try, though – Toga and Twice playing racing games and crashing into each other on purpose, Dabi getting competitive with some other guy on a dancing game they both sucked at. That was before he met you, and as he watched a couple wedge into the photo booth, he remembers thinking that he didn’t need things like that. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have it, or couldn’t have it, because he didn’t need it in the first place. He had his friends. They were more than enough.

They would have been enough forever, but Tomura was learning something about life in those days, or he thought he was. Learning that there wasn’t a limit on things like safety or freedom or peace, that there was no such thing as too much of the things in life that Sensei’s money – Tomura’s money, really – couldn’t buy. Love wasn’t finite, and it came in different kinds. It didn’t take anything away from his friends when he fell in love with you.

Tomura used to have a rule about thinking of you in here, but as the stretches in the protection cell get longer and longer, he can’t hold himself back. He needs you, like he needed you out there, in whatever form he can get. What do you look like now? He’s turning thirty next year, and so are you. Do you still like the things you used to when you and Tomura were together? Do you still have the same habits as you used to, the ones Tomura didn’t notice until you moved in together, the ones that made him laugh and the ones that made him feel like home? Do you still love him, still miss him? Do you think about him at all?

Yes, Tomura decides in the middle of his longest stint yet in the protection cell, you do. He’d think about you if your spots were switched, if he was out there and you were in here. He’d be waiting for you to find your way out, so you must be doing the same. Tomura’s appeals are still in the works. He can still find a way out. But he can’t keep screwing up. No more talking back to the guards or sniping with Chisaki or picking fights with 019. If Tomura’s goal is getting out, he has to stay focused, even if he’s provoked.

When he gets out of the protection cell, and comes back in from his first exercise period in three weeks with snow in his hair, he gets a surprise. 019’s cell is empty. Kurogiri tells him that the execution was two weeks ago. G-o-o-d r-i-d-d-a-n-c-e, Tomura responds, and he means it. But there’s something uneasy about the now-empty cell. Every time Tomura walks past it, on the way to his exercise period or for his twice-weekly showers, a chill goes down his spine.

eight

The guards are hauling them out of their cells one at a time, taking them away, and throwing them back in. Tomura’s never seen them do that before, and he doesn’t care – at least not until some guy ahead of him in line sends back the news. “Cavity search! Merry fucking Christmas to us!”

Cavity search. If he’s had to do that before, Tomura doesn’t remember, but it must be bad, because Chisaki starts going nuts in the cell to his left. From the cell to his right, Kurogiri taps out a message. D-o-n-t f-i-g-h-t. G-e-t i-t o-v-e-r w-i-t-h.

Sure. Whatever. Tomura tunes out Chisaki’s protesting and goes back to trying to straighten out his fingers.

His left hand’s healed, mostly. He can move his wrist and most of his fingers, but his index and middle fingers took the brunt of it, and now they’re crooked. Crooked in weird ways, ways that hurt whenever he tries to move them and hurt worse when the temperature drops. Right now, when it’s Christmas Eve and frozen air is leaking in through the vents, Tomura’s hand is basically useless. When he gets bored – and he gets bored a lot – Tomura wastes time trying to manipulate his fingers back to straight for even a second or two. It never really works.

Tomura has a feeling that things would have gone differently if he’d gotten that injury on the outside. If his hand was broken badly enough that bones were sticking through his skin, you wouldn’t have had to talk him into going to the hospital – he’d have gone himself. They probably would have set the bones, instead of whatever the prison doctor did. Maybe Tomura would have gotten surgery, and probably physical therapy, to make sure that everything that got wrecked went back to the way it was. He wouldn’t have wound up with a hand he can’t use.

Chisaki goes for his merry Christmas cavity search ahead of Tomura, and he must not have taken Kurogiri’s advice, because his takes twice as long as everybody else’s. Tomura gets a glimpse of him in his cell as the guards haul him out for his own search. He’s never actually seen Chisaki’s face before. Chisaki looks pretty dead-eyed and vacant for somebody who can’t shut his mouth.

The cavity searches are taking place in the infirmary, where Tomura’s been exactly once. He doesn’t have good memories of the place, and he likes the look of what’s going on in here today even less. Some of the guards look disgusted. Some of them have nasty grins on their faces. The doctor looks blank, almost bored. “Strip.”

Strip search. Fine. Some of this is coming back to Tomura now, and while he’s understandably not thrilled about it, he sees what Kurogiri means about just getting it over with. What’s weird is how many people are here. “Do you guys get off on watching this or something?”

“They’re providing oversight,” the prison doctor drones. A warning bell goes off in Tomura’s head. “Let’s get this over with.”

“No,” Tomura says. Something’s coming back to him from a long way away – the detention center, even further back from that – and his nerves are starting to scream. “I’m not doing anything until you tell me why this is happening.”

“One of your fellow prisoners, who apparently has an arrangement with someone on the outside, was found to be concealing –” The doctor keeps talking, but Tomura’s mind whites out around the words, even as his body reacts to them. He knows what this is. This can’t happen. “I’m sure you understand.”

“No,” Tomura says. His voice shakes, but he couldn’t steady it even if he closed a hand around his throat. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not letting you –”

“I’ve been authorized to offer moderate sedation,” the doctor says. “Several of your fellow prisoners have availed themselves of that option. Things will proceed much more smoothly if you do the same.”

Yeah. Sure. Take a shot of Versed, take off all his clothes, and let the doctor just – while people watch – “No,” Tomura says. The doctor raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t want a fucking shot. I’m not going to do this.”

“It’s not a request,” the doctor says. He sighs. “Guards –”

The guards swarm Tomura, but Tomura’s decided – he’d rather make them beat him to death than go through this, drugs or no drugs, cooperating or not cooperating. He punches, scratches, headbutts, bites. One guard makes the mistake of approaching Tomura from the front and Tomura kicks him in the balls so hard that he drops to the ground, unconscious. “Search him,” Tomura spits at the doctor. “He’ll cooperate.”

One of the guards punches Tomura in the face, or tries to. Tomura whips his head to one side to avoid it and puts himself squarely in the path of another guard’s fist. This hit splits his lip open, gives him a headache like he hasn’t felt in years – and worse, it stuns him. All it takes is another punch in the stomach to put Tomura on the ground, and once he’s down, it’s over.

He gets shot up with Versed. In his thigh, after they’ve already restrained him and taken off his clothes, and then he has to sit there while they wait for it to take effect. They’re all looking. They won’t stop looking. Even as the sedative slows his thoughts down, makes him sleepy, turns his struggles from ineffective to laughable, Tomura’s body knows there’s something wrong. It ties him up in knots, demanding that he curl in and protect himself even though he can’t move, and sends cramp after cramp wrenching its way through his body until agonized sounds force their way out of his mouth.

Someone laughs. “This is a punishment. You’re not supposed to like it.”

A punishment for what? Tomura can’t remember what he did. He doesn’t think he deserves this, no matter how bad or stupid or evil whatever he did was. He should have kept fighting. He should have made the guards beat him into unconsciousness, or better yet, beat him to death. He wants to die. Right now, Tomura wants to die more than he’s ever wanted anything in the world.

The prison doctor doesn’t find anything, and Tomura’s so out of it that the guards have to drag him back to his cell, past the other cells on death row and the prisoners who didn’t pitch the kind of fit Tomura did. Tomura catches a glimpse of Chisaki, no longer vacant but still staring, before the guards throw him in and shut the door. It occurs to him that Chisaki did a better job of following Kurogiri’s advice than Tomura did. Chisaki took the sedative. Tomura got himself beat to shit and it didn’t matter. They still did what they wanted. He might as well not have fought at all.

Someone, maybe Chisaki, taps out a message. W-h-a-t h-a-p-p-e-n-e-d?

Tomura can still feel it. His skin is crawling and his guts feel like they’re being shredded, centimeter by centimeter. He peels himself up off the floor and wedges himself against the outer wall of his cell, just below the vents. His mind’s already numb. Maybe he can make the rest of himself numb, too.

nine

Tomura wakes up to urgent tapping on the bars, coming from all different directions. He can’t decipher any of it, and he raps his knuckles against the bars to cut everybody off. Then he adds a message of his own. W-h-a-t –

Someone else raps on the bars, cuts him off, and responds fast. f-o-u-r g-u-a-r-d-s c-o-m-i-n-g. So what? E-x-e-c-u-t-i-o-n.

Tomura can’t make the connection, can’t figure out why four guards means an execution, but there’s only one thing that matters. W-h-o?

There are prisoners who’ve been on death row for decades longer than Tomura has. It has to be one of them. Tomura still has appeals pending. It can’t be him. Can it? People are tapping out answers to the question, but the door that leads into death row unlocks with a clang, and everyone falls silent. Tomura shrinks back in his cell on instinct when he hears them coming, stays curled in a ball as they pass the two prisoners and Chisaki to his left – and then keep walking, past Kurogiri by a few steps. And then they stop.

A cell door opens, and whoever’s inside it gets to his feet. “Akaguro Chizome,” one guard says, and Tomura’s not the only one who sucks down a startled breath, “the warden wants to speak with you.”

“The warden.” Akaguro’s voice is dry and rough, worse even than Tomura’s sounds. Tomura’s never heard him say a word until now. “Why don’t you do me the favor of being honest?”

It’s silent. The air in the cell block tastes heavy with sweat, even though it’s snowing outside. “Today’s the day,” the guard says finally, and Akaguro hums in acknowledgement. “Let’s go.”

Tomura gets his first and last look at Akaguro as the guards march him past, just enough of a look to confirm that Akaguro really is the cop killer who showed up in so many of Spinner’s favorite true-crime shows. He’s been here since long before Tomura got here, and Tomura’s never seen or heard him until today. It’s a split-second look – long enough to make eye contact and nothing else – and then Akaguro’s gone, out of sight for good.

The footsteps stop at the end of the hallway, and a whisper travels through the cell block. A moment later, Akaguro speaks. “You came.”

“I swore I would.” The voice isn’t one Tomura’s heard before. Do people always get visitors on their execution day? “It’s been a long time, Akaguro.”

“Longer for me than for you,” Akaguro says. “Who is this?”

There’s someone else there? How many visitors do people get on the day they die? “Midoriya Izuku, my protégé,” the first man says, “and hopefully, my successor as the head of prosecution.”

A prosecutor. Tomura doesn’t like those. Someone hisses at the far end of the hall, and after a second, Tomura joins in. “I won’t be witnessing,” Midoriya Izuku says hastily. He sounds like a little kid. “Mr. Yagi suggested that I visit death row to – to learn.”

“To learn what you’re truly asking for when you ask a judge to impose the death penalty.” Akaguro chuckles, low and dark. “I hope you learn what you deserve to.”

Death row falls silent. It’s usually silent, but this silence feels heavier than usual. “Let’s get this over with,” Akaguro says. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Tomura hears the door to the cell block open, the sound of fading footsteps. The door shuts again, and someone taps a quick message. T-w-o s-t-i-l-l h-e-r-e. “Midoriya, right?” the guard says. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Nobody tells Tomura anything, which means that the explanation the guard gives the brat prosecutor who’s here to stare at the animals is the most he’s ever learned about the place where he’s spent the last nine years. “Due to the nature of the appeals process, most of these guys spend a long time here. The shortest stay so far is six years; the longest at the moment is thirty-seven. Because they’ve got nothing to lose, security is very tight. We find it minimizes prisoner distress. It helps them to have a routine.”

“What’s their routine?”

The guard describes it. It would have been great if someone had described it to Tomura when he got here, but he picked it up fast enough – faster than Midoriya, apparently, because Midoriya sounds just as clueless as he probably looks. “I want to make sure I heard you right,” he’s saying. “The prisoners here spend twenty-four hours a day in lockdown. Over the course of a week they get two and a half hours total outside their cell. They’re subject to all the same reprimands as prisoners in maximum security, but they’re prohibited from communicating with anybody on the outside. Is that it?”

“That’s it,” the guard says, like he didn’t leave a bunch of shit out – the beatings, the searches, the fact that it’s always too cold or too hot, the bullshit that passes for medical care, the fucking protection cell. “The inmates catch on quickly.”

“They can’t communicate with anyone,” Midoriya repeats. “What about their lawyers?”

“As long as the lawyer makes a written request, they can schedule an appointment to speak to an inmate,” the guard says. “Most don’t bother.”

“But the appeals process –”

“Occasionally a sentence will be commuted, but for the most part, the people who end up here are guilty,” the guard says. “You’re a prosecutor. You should know.”

Midoriya doesn’t say a word. “Follow me,” the guard says after a moment. “I’ll show you the exercise yard.”

The guard walks fast, but Midoriya’s slow, because he keeps looking into people’s cells. The guard tells him not to, but Midoriya doesn’t listen. A few steps, then a pause. A few steps, then a pause. Over and over again, until he’s staring into Tomura’s cell. Tomura stares back.

He was right about Midoriya Izuku. Midoriya Izuku looks like a clueless fucking kid playing dress-up in his boss’s suit, and he’s staring at Tomura with obvious horror. Right – Tomura’s the convicted mass murderer, with the highest body count on death row now that Akaguro’s gone, and it’s not even worth it to protest that he didn’t do it any longer. It doesn’t matter to anyone whether he did it or not. If Tomura stays here long enough, it probably won’t even matter to him anymore.

Midoriya keeps staring. “How long has he been in here?”

“Nine years for that one. Why?”

“I just wondered,” Midoriya says, and finally, the little brat looks away.

Tomura’s still not clear on whether he’s actually killed anyone, but if he got a chance, he thinks he could probably kill Midoriya. For coming in here to stare and ask stupid questions. For thinking he can handle being a prosecutor when he gets squeamish at the sight of a murderer in a prison cell. For going to school and getting a degree just so he can become the person who makes sure people like Tomura die exactly like this – on a random morning, surrounded by people who don’t care, gone and forgotten in the space of a few minutes.

Midoriya’s out there and Tomura’s in here. Tomura could kill him for that alone.

ten

It’s cold. Tomura can’t remember a time when it wasn’t cold, when his head and his hands and his throat didn’t hurt, when he could breathe without coughing. He has a fever, but it’s not high enough. He’s coughing, but not badly enough – not like the prisoner who died here, the one who coughed himself to death overnight without anyone noticing. Tomura’s sick. But he’s not so sick that anyone will care.

What else is new, really? It was people caring about Tomura that was the aberration, not the other way around. He almost wishes he hadn’t gotten used to it. It feels worse to have something taken away than to never have had it in the first place. But as another winter inches past, one where Tomura’s too tired for his twice-weekly exercise period and so dizzy that he has to be dragged to the showers and thrown in, he’s glad he got to know what it was like. If he didn’t have the memories, he’d have nowhere to go when he can’t stand to be here.

He always had stupid things going on with his skin. Tomura couldn’t hide that from you. But he didn’t get sick in front of you until you’d been dating for six months – some kind of summer cold, gross and pathetic and nothing he wanted you to see. Tomura tried to scare you off, but you came over anyway. You should leave, Tomura warned you. I’m disgusting.

You’re just sick. You were leaning in the doorway of his room, watching him. You looked so pretty. Prettier up close, when you crossed the room and came to sit on the edge of his bed. The back of your hand brushed his forehead, and a moment later, your lips pressed against the same spot. I want to help. If you let me.

Tomura coughed. Why?

Because I love you, you said, and a surprised look crossed your face at the same moment as Tomura’s heart leaped high and hard enough to give himself a coughing fit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that yet.

Why not? Why were you waiting? Tomura kept coughing, until you got up and brought him a glass of water and helped him sit up to drink it. He got the words out as soon as he could talk. Why not?

I didn’t want to scare you off, you say. Your face flushed. You looked away. I just – if you wanted things to be casual, I’d rather keep my mouth shut and let it stay that way than say something and –

I can’t do casual. Tomura wanted to make sure you got that. It was important. I only play for keeps.

You glanced back at Tomura, and the look on your face startled him. He didn’t know what to call it – he had a hard time naming his own feelings on his best day, and yours could be a total mystery – but he knew where it came from. Knew what it was like to realize you might get something you really wanted, and almost wish you’d never hoped for it in the first place. Hope felt worse than a lot of things. Tomura had done his time with that one.

But you’d fixed it for him in three words. Tomura could do the same for you. I love you, too, he said. That doesn’t mean you have to take care of me when I have the plague.

If you have the plague, it’s way too late for me, you said, and you kissed him. We’re in this together.

You were in it together, but you took care of Tomura for a week and you never caught what he had. Your immune system was tougher than his. Tomura remembers taking half-formed, feverish notes on the stuff you did for him, storing it away for sometime in the future when you got sick and it was his turn to take care of you. Not that he wanted you to be sick, but he was kind of looking forward to it. It felt so fucking good to have you with him, to know he wasn’t alone, to know that you saw him at his grossest and said you loved him anyway. He wanted to make sure you felt the same thing when it was your turn.

Ten years. You’ve been sick since he got locked up, probably. Tomura wonders who took care of you. If anyone did. If you even let anyone know, because Tomura knows your instinct when you get hurt is to hide. But you didn’t hide from him. He’s supposed to be out there with you. Tomura coughs until his lungs burn and his ribs ache and tears stream down his face, and wonders if you’re angry with him. If you blame him for whatever’s happened to you since the last time you saw each other. If you’ll even want to see him if he gets out of here.

If he gets out. Tomura can remember when it used to be when.

eleven

“Inmate 230385.” The door to Tomura’s cell slides open with an awful clang, startling him out of sleep before the sun’s even risen. “The warden wants to see you.”

Tomura’s so tired that it takes long seconds for him to grasp what’s happened, but fear hits faster – ahead of logic, ahead of reason, ahead of the fact that there are two guards instead of four, ahead of the knowledge that he hasn’t been here long enough yet. He scrambles out of bed off-balance and topples against the back wall. This isn’t how he wanted this. He hasn’t thought about how he wants his execution to go, and he should have, even if he’s been running from the fact that he’s never getting out of here for more than a decade at this point. He didn’t think about stoic versus panicked, resigned rather than combative, walking with dignity to his execution over a crime he didn’t commit or fighting like hell every step of the way. He doesn’t have enough time. He doesn’t know –

The guards drag him out of the cell before he can even get to his knees, and they take him in the wrong direction. Away from the execution chamber, towards the showers and the infirmary and the door to the exercise yard. He’s never been to the warden’s office before. The warden’s office is an excuse. Tomura’s never heard of anyone actually going there, no matter how much they fuck up.

How did he fuck up? He doesn’t do anything, ever, except fight when the strip searches happen so they’ll knock him out – and he hasn’t done that in a while. The guards chain Tomura’s hands in front of him, chain his legs at the ankles, connect both to a chain around his waist so he can’t lift his hands higher than his navel. They one of them knocks loudly on a plain wooden door. “Warden Torino. Inmate 230385, as requested.”

“Come in.”

The door opens and the guards shove Tomura through. Tomura almost faceplants, but manages to get his hands down before it’s too late, and rather than breaking his nose, he feels something snap in his left hand. He swears before he can stop himself, and earns a sharp strike to the side of his head that makes him instantly nauseous. “Enough,” the warden says. “I want him conscious. Get him up.”

The guards seize Tomura under his arms and haul him up to his feet. Tomura’s vision swims with pain, but eventually he manages to focus his eyes, and when he does, he sees an old man sitting behind a desk. The wall behind him is covered in certificates that Tomura can’t read and wouldn’t even if he could. A cane leans against the desk. The warden laces his knobbled fingers together and stares at Tomura. “Do you know who I am?”

Bastard. Asshole. Tomura’s been here too long to fall for something like that. “You’re expected to speak when spoken to,” the warden says. “Do you know who I am?”

“Warden Torino.”

“Yes,” the warden says. “I knew your grandmother.”

Tomura looks blankly at him. The warden stares back, his face set in a mask of cold disdain. “Shimura Nana,” he says. “One of your victims.”

There was only one grandmother Tomura remembers. One who was nice and gave him sweets he liked and told him not to cry and never, ever stood up for him when his father started in. His mom’s mother, not his dad’s. He knew his dad’s mom left – Hana told him, the same day as Tomura’s father locked him outside in the yard all night – and he never met her. Did he? “I don’t know who that is.”

“You should,” the warden says shortly. “Hers was the most violent murder you committed. She had been looking forward to meeting you, you know. She told me.”

Was she supposed to be there that night? Everything surrounding the night of the murders is a blur to Tomura, and it’s only gotten worse with every year that slips past, every blow to the head he takes. “I don’t remember.”

“What about this?” the warden asks. He lifts a piece of paper off his desk and shoves it in Tomura’s face. Tomura flinches back. “Coward. Does this ring a bell?”

No, it doesn’t. Tomura’s memories are fragmented as it is, but he’d have remembered this – a body in a pool of blood, limbs separated, ribcage split open. Even in a photo it’s clear something is missing. Bile rises in the back of Tomura’s throat. He clenches his jaw. “Where is it?”

“Her heart?” Warden Torino’s jaw is clenched, too. “It went missing. You ate it.”

What? Tomura shakes his head violently, and Warden Torino talks over his denial, contempt draining from every word. “The medical examiner was impressed with the dissection. As a serial murderer, you’re precocious. It’s lucky for the rest of us that you were caught before you could harm anyone else.”

“I didn’t do it,” Tomura says. The guard on his left throws an elbow into his side and he stumbles. “I didn’t do it. I don’t care how many times you hit me.”

“Of course you do.” The warden gestures, and the guard who was about to punch Tomura in the kidneys lets his hand fall. “But you can trust me when I say I don’t care how many times you lie that you’re innocent. The rest of the world sees you for what you really are – a monster.”

Maybe five years ago, that would have hurt. Maybe even enough to make Tomura lose his temper and earn himself a beating and a trip to the protection cell. The impact feels like it’s coming from far away. Tomura doesn’t answer, doesn’t blink, and the warden sets the picture of Tomura’s murdered grandmother down on the desk. “In any case, this meeting is a courtesy. Everyone recalls the fit you threw last time, and we waste too much water already spraying you down in your cell.”

It’s not like Tomura enjoys getting sprayed down, at least not in the winter. It’s not the worst when it’s warm, but when it’s cold, it takes him until his next lukewarm shower to stop shivering. “Inmate 230385,” Warden Torino says, “your most recent appeal has been denied. You have two appeals remaining, which means you’ll burden us with your company for quite a while longer. No one is more displeased with this than I am.”

Two more appeals before they kill him. Tomura’s mind is blank, other than reactions to the pulsing pain emanating from his hand and a single thought he won’t look at head-on. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the warden prompts. Tomura doesn’t answer. There’s something he wants to say, something weighing down the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite piece it together. “Take him back to his cell.”

It’s not until Tomura’s back in his cell with the door locked that he understands what he would have said. What he wanted to say, for a split second. I waive my appeals, he almost said. He imagines the warden’s cold eyes lighting up with triumph, and even that’s not enough to shake the thought loose. I’m done.

It’s a new thought, in a place where nothing’s changed in years. It’s a thought Tomura hasn’t had in a long time. It’s not one he wants to have. And no matter where Tomura looks in his memories, no matter how hard he tries to insulate himself among his friends or at your side, he can’t get away from it, any more than he can get out of his cell. It belongs in here. It belongs with him.

twelve

Something must have changed on the outside, or else Tomura’s fellow inmates are giving up faster than he is, because in the winter of his twelfth year on death row, three cells open up. It’s the number of executions that’s unusual, not anything else. Like always, they’re taken the wrong way down the hall to meet the warden. Like always, it’s the first time Tomura learns their names. Some of the names ring a bell. Some of them don’t.

Tomura has two appeals left. He knows it won’t be him. But when four guards march down the row and come to a stop in front of the cell next to his, his stomach drops in a way it hasn’t in years. His blood roars in his ears, loudly enough to drown out Kurogiri’s real name when the guards say it. Not loud enough to miss the death sentence itself: The warden wants to speak with you.

Kurogiri’s been here longer than Tomura has. He taught Tomura how to talk to the other prisoners, tried to teach him the rules, tried to show him how to make things easier on himself. Tomura didn’t listen, but that’s not Kurogiri’s fault. Kurogiri’s the one who bought himself a stay in the protection cell a few winters back by the alarm when Tomura’s case of bronchitis knocked him unconscious. Kurogiri taps out message after message after message to Tomura until Tomura answers and tells him to fuck off, and it took Tomura years to realize that Kurogiri was checking on him, making sure he was still talking. Making sure he’s still alive.

Kurogiri rises to his feet and steps out of the cell on his own. Tomura wants to scream at him. Don’t go. Fight back. Make them suffer. Don’t let them kill you. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me. The door to Tomura’s cell opens, too, and a guard gets right in Tomura’s face, yelling at him to shut up even though Tomura hasn’t said a word. Tomura shoves past him, making it halfway into the hall for a look at Kurogiri. One look, his first look and his last, at the only person in the world he knows he still matters to.

Kurogiri shakes his head. His mouth is moving, but Tomura can’t hear him. All he can see is Kurogiri’s eyes widening, his head shaking. Pain explodes through the back of Tomura’s head, down along his neck, and everything goes white, and he never hears Kurogiri’s last words. He wakes up facedown in his cell, the headache that never goes away even worse than usual, and he bloodies his knuckles tapping messages that no one will ever answer again.

Tomura’s friends are gone. His family’s been gone longer. Even your memory is distant, and Kurogiri’s gone, too. If no one who cares about Tomura still exists, what does it matter if Tomura’s here or not? It doesn’t, Tomura realizes. He doesn’t. He doesn’t matter at all.

thirteen

Next time Tomura will do better. Next time it’ll work. He tells himself that through his entire stay in the protection cell, but when he gets back to his own cell on death row, he finds it empty. His futon is gone. His blanket is gone. His desk and his pillow are gone, too. There’s nothing but the concrete floor and the open vents. Almost as soon as the door’s locked behind him, as soon as the guards’ footsteps have faded, Chisaki taps out a message. T-o-l-d y-o-u n-o-t t-o d-o i-t.

T-o-l-d y-o-u t-o s-h-u-t y-o-u-r f-u-c-k-i-n-g m-o-u-t-h. Tomura didn’t want to hear it from Chisaki before, and he definitely doesn’t want to hear it now. He feels enough like shit already.

The worst thing is, Tomura planned. It wasn’t some bullshit impulsive thing, not a plea for attention or a cry for help or anything other than a purposeful attempt to ruin everybody else’s plans for him. It doesn’t matter how many appeals Tomura has left. He’s only getting out of here one way. And there’s no rule that said he has to get out on the warden’s terms. Except for the rule he didn’t know about where he doesn’t know how to use his one threadbare blanket to tie a fucking noose.

Or maybe he did fine with the noose, and he didn’t tie the other end in the right place. Maybe he tied the noose like he was supposed to and tied the other end in the right place, and just didn’t commit hard enough when he stuck his head through and dropped to his knees. Maybe he got all of that right and just timed it wrong, picked the exact moment when a guard was watching and gave them plenty of time to run in and stop him. Why did they fucking stop him? They’re going to kill him anyway. He was doing them a favor.

And now, somehow, Tomura’s made things worse for himself. He doesn’t have a bed or a desk or a blanket or anything, and it’s so cold. Tomura can see his own breath. His fingers are already beginning to ache, and he huddles up the way he’s done for so many years, feet tucked in close, hands wedged under his armpits. It barely worked before, and it doesn’t work at all now. Tomura’s throat tightens, jams shut, and all at once it’s like it was when he was little, when he went by a different name, when he was locked outside overnight because he asked his father about his grandma. Tomura was so stupid to think he could get away. To think he could ever be anything but that stupid little kid.

And he must be going crazy in here, fucking finally, because he hears a voice in his ear like it’s coming from thousands of miles away, from coming up on two decades back in time. I don’t need to know who told you that to know they’re wrong. Tomura argues, just like he argued the first time you said it, and just like you did then, your voice repeats it. I don’t need to know who told you to know they’re wrong.

The two of you were arguing about something stupid, face to face in the entryway of his dorm room, and when he tried to shove past you, to storm out knowing you wouldn’t chase him and praying you would, you stepped forward and pinned him back against the wall so he couldn’t even try. Tomura tried to lean forward, to slither out one side, and some thread of tension inside him eased when you wouldn’t let him go. That was how much he mattered to you.

And he doesn’t matter like that anymore. Not to you, not to anybody. It’s been too long. You haven’t seen him in thirteen years, and other people must have seen what Tomura saw in you. You probably forgot about Tomura a long time ago, and he can’t even blame you for that. Tomura forces himself to uncurl, exposing first his feet, then his hands, and sprawling out flat on the concrete floor, feeling the cold spill through his clothes. The noose didn’t work. Maybe the cold will.

fourteen

“Congratulations, Shigaraki,” one of the guards says as he and three others walk back from the execution chamber, on their way to clean out the now-vacant cell. “Hey. Listen up.”

Tomura doesn’t turn. He didn’t look up when the guards went past with the other inmate, and he let his mind go blank when they said the man’s name. The guard kicks the bars of his cell. “Pay attention when I’m talking to you. I said congratulations.”

Tomura glances back over his shoulder to see the guard grinning at him. “Congratulations for what?”

“You made it,” the guard says. “You’ve been here longer than anybody else.”

Tomura knew it would be something stupid like that. Like it matters how long he’s been here when he’ll never leave. He faces the wall again, and the guard makes a derisive sound. “Don’t worry. It’ll be your turn soon.”

Not soon enough. Tomura closes his eyes.

fifteen

“Hey,” the guard supervising Tomura’s exercise period snaps at him. “What have you got in your hand?”

Tomura doesn’t have anything in his hand. He unfolds his fingers with an effort and shows the guard, who lurches backwards with a grimace. “What the fuck is that?” the guard asks. “Does that hurt?”

It’s his left hand, and his left hand always hurts – but recently it hasn’t been quite as bad. Tomura’s not sure why, but he’s not going to question it. He shakes his head. The guard frowns. “That doesn’t look right,” he says. “The doctor –”

“No.” Tomura’s voice is rusty. His mouth tastes bad when he speaks. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s fine.”

“Uh – okay.” The guard is still frowning. “You can keep walking. You still have fifteen minutes.”

Tomura keeps walking. He takes a look at his hand for himself while he’s doing it and decides that the guard must have a weak stomach. There’s nothing wrong with Tomura’s hand. It’s looked like this for almost a year. If it matters at all, the doctor will say something the next time Tomura’s dragged in for a medical exam. He tucks it back in under his other arm and keeps walking, feet crunching through the frost. He used to like being outside, especially when it’s cold. It used to feel warm.

He can’t remember why.

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