#they would find each other in any universe

[great-septimus]

Hey, so I don't want to be that guy, but when are we going to acknowledge that Akechi was right?

No, I obviously don't mean about the things he was very clearly wrong about. I'm referring to the things he says in interviews about the Phantom Thieves. I hate how many people switch up after playing through his betrayal who previously agreed with his views, because nothing he said is wrong and nothing he did changes that fact. He speaks in the TV Station on the objective facts that he should know about, and with or without the context of his form of justice those facts stay true. It's a fallacy to claim that his form of justice being universally less approved of makes the Phantom Thieves better by comparison, or discredits anything he said. I don't think the Phantom Thieves are evil, or that they should necessarily be imprisoned, but I do think that they are not morally sound. They're kids. Prior to his betrayal I think he served his purpose well, but it's easy to disregard the validity of his words when you find out that he's a murderer. With the knowledge he SHOULD have had (and that many DID have), everything he says is true. And honestly? It still can be true for basically the entire plot of the game. Mishima's confidant tests the thieves in that way. They could have changed the hearts of anyone who's not a persona user, for any personal reason. It's a slippery slope.

I'll use these three options as an example for why he's right:

"They're justice itself" is just subjective and incorrect, because justice as a concept is individualized and given how each Phantom Thief has different reasons for being one it's ridiculous for even them to say. Their first target was before they even formed a group, and Ann was ready to kill Kamoshida. The others were not even going to step in, and they were going to respect her choice either way. All the members are so different, so this is an insane claim to make.

"They're necessary" is wrong because to say they are necessary is pretty disingenuous to all "justice" that has ever happened BEFORE they existed. I don't believe that the Thieves were a necessity per say, and personally I think their actions can only be judged on a case by case basis. Some Mementos targets for example have issues that stem beyond what they have done. Now they have their desires stolen but still have the issue that pushed them to immortality in the first place, plus a shitton of guilty baggage. The Thieves only help with the atonement, but not the push. How many of those people didn't just go right back to their past behaviors? How many of them got worse in other ways? Think about Futaba, she felt so guilty for something she thought she did, she formed a palace to condemn herself to die alone. To claim the Thieves are necessary to reform society implies that their method is the most effective, and I think that's a lot to claim for something they don't understand.

"They do more than the cops" I almost agree with. Legally the police in Japan in this game anyway (yes I'm aware it extends to reality in many ways, but I'm referring to just the game right now) are corrupt and flawed for the most part, but the thing I don't agree with is that this makes the Thieves a better alternative. They're not. For the same reason Yoshizawa says later, the Thieves can only do so much as vigilantes, and to imply that society should rely on these faceless nameless flawed people to fix society is not any better than what they have now. Especially with the method being unknown, potentially unsafe, and easily exploitable. I cannot be the only one who if the Phantom Thieves were real, would be extremely alarmed by the prospect of a group of vigilantes "changing hearts" right? It's so vague, and the pattern is dystopian. At least police methods are familiar

What I'm saying is that they're kids, and it's kind of insane that this game places Akechi as the narrative foil for the Thieves in their message and then makes it so easy to disregard because "he's an assassin so how could he know anything about justice". The Thieves don't either, and Ann was nearly a murderer. If the bar is "don't commit murder when you're infiltrating someone's mind" then it's far too low. I wouldn't trust a group of adults with this power to reform society, even less a group of teenage vigilantes. I'm 19, and I find this odd. And Strikers frames them as even more righteous, and it bugs me even more in that game. At least Royal has the third semester to give a bit more nuance to how big of a responsibility Ren was given, but that's also very frequently misinterpreted.

I love this game, and I love this fandom, and I have thoughts that get weird and ranty. I apologize, but I hope you all found this as interesting as I did.

[czytling]

The one where Tim Drake has his first sex scandal.... with himself.

Everyone knows how Red Robin and Tim Drake -Wayne hate each other, right? They have a very loud and public beef via Twitter. Also, there is a ton of fan edits and thrist trips with Tim Drake x Red Robin.

The public finds THE evidence. It was well hidden, but some good hacker managed to leak it. A real Tim/Red Robin sex tape, reel of Red Robin and Tim arguing and the thing getting heated, and them angling closer and closer together, until the kiss, and the camera dies just before it could show more than a single moment of them kissing and a hand moving lower, but it was *suggestive*.

----

Meanwhile, Tim (current Red Robin) and Red Robin (who is also Tim, just from a future or alternate universe) are like "bleh. This was weird. It was weird for you too, right? I don't have a narcissus complex or something? No? Great. Let's never do that again. Or mention it. But thanks for giving me a hand there, I started getting too much heat on my secret persona, this will throw them off."

Tbh, both Tims find the concept hilarious, even if the sacrifice needed to execute it was far too great. Chaos has always been their thing.

----

Meanwhile, a look at Batfamily.

Dick saw a clickbait and clicked at the video to laugh at shoddy fan edit of Tim kissing his vigilante persona, because he wanted some blackmail material to tease him about. He got a full performance of Tim kissing another Tim, and yes they were both real Tim, Dick can tell his brother in mask or not. His brain is melting. He is also desperately trying to bleach the image of his brother having sex with himself and also trying to put into thoughts what should he do now and how to give Tim a slight intervention about self-cest without mentioning anything that he just saw or un-bleaching his brain.

Bruce is near equally as disgusted. But some part of him also considers if he could do the same thing with his next time travelling/alternate self, you know, to confirm the fact that butts match while proving they are separate people and also because giving more fodder for Brucie/Batman ship is even better than Tim's enemies to lovers, considering it's public knowledge that Brucie funds Justice League and Batman.

Damian is disgusted. Cass is confused befuddled and baffled more than anything, she saw a passionate scene with no passion for each other but clear passion for optics and it just doesn't make sense.

(Note here that if you give a camera to *Two* photography nutjobs, their fak-ish sex tape will be the most artistically overdone thing you have ever seen. The lightning, and the angles, and the shots are all artisitically perfect despite seemingly being non-scripted and caught on camera by accident.)

Jason just doesn't know what to think. But it's disguisting and he is furious at his Replacement for sullying the Robin title like that. ("First off, I'm Red Robin and not Robin. Second, working girls should be respected too and that is your own rule. I don't see how this is any different, so stick to your own code, Hood")

Barbara was not the hacker who leaked it. In fact, she was desperately trying to un-leak it, but she had been on vacation with her dad when the tape premiered and by the time she heard of it, it breached containment and it was too late.

Young just us finds the whole thing hilarious. A bit too many members try not to think at all about whose place they would rather be in. No blushing here, none at all.

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor. 

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you…I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.” 

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor. 

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.” 

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?” 

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

1.

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you. 

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning. 

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off. 

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied. 

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

[fanfic-obsessed]

Rebellion of the bats

Ok, here’s another one that’s going to get a little wacky. As a reminder never look for canon here, for I do not know her. 

We are going to start today's madness with some build up before the main event. It is important to me that you understand that in this one, Tim Drake does not take after Bruce Wayne. Tim Drake takes after Alfred (feral planners, whose truest love and calling is to care for their loved ones, coated in a veneer of respectability). In fact it is Alfred who teaches Bruce how to prepare for any eventuality. 

And the Tim of this universe is prepared for any eventuality. Including having a plan for ‘Jason has come back from the dead, has been lied to, appears to hate the family, and is trying to attack me for taking Robin’.  So Jason attacks Titan’s Tower and is very surprised to find that, instead of beating up Robin, he finds himself being dragged back to that Manor by an excited Tim Drake (No matter how long or short after the fact, Jason is still not sure how they got from Jason wanting to beat up a teen to being convinced to come home). 

Jason, Dick, and Bruce all bond over the abrupt realization that Alfred and Tim are absolutely feral and that if either decided to go rogue the universe was screwed.  They also realize that it is part of their Vigilante assigned duty to keep Both Tim and Alfred from needing to take over the world.

This helps stabilize the relationships among the Batfam, this common goal.  So by the time Damian arrives, their relationships are much stronger. Bruce, Dick, Steph, Cass, and Jason each try to talk Damian out of his assassination attempts (more for Damian’s health than Tims). Tim, because Damian is now his brother and is 10 years old, allows Damian two assaination attempts without consequence. Damian’s third, and final,  attempt ended with a finger broken on Damian’s non-dominant hand…and no proof that Tim caused it. 

Because of this stronger, more stable relationship Tim was actually able to pass Robin on to Damian before the Darksied happened. Tim took up Red Robin with Jason’s approval. 

Darksied sends Bruce on his bounce through time. There are still rumblings of what could become a war for the cowl (including Cass, this time because grief can do weird things to people and I think she should get to throw her hand into the ring), but instead Tim finds the clues Bruce had been leaving. And this is where the biggest departure comes. 

Because all of the Bats are there, and they believe Tim. They have no reason not to (I will get to that in just a minute). In fact, they all treat this revelation as a relief and begin to work out a schedule for keeping up the Batman pretense until Bruce can be retrieved. 

Dick as Batman goes to the Justice League (during a JL meeting) with the news that Bruce is lost in time, and they need substantial Justice League resources (and realistically it would need to be substantial and/or unique resources, or Tim would have used WE industries or his own resources) to retrieve him. And look, Dick looked at none of Tim’s evidence so when asked how the Bats know, Dick as Batman answers immediately with ‘Oh, Red Robin said’. 

The other members of the Justice League glanced at each other. It is Diana that very gently brings up that Wonder Girl had told her that Red Robin had been very intent on cloning Superboy, trying to avoid outright saying that it seemed like Tim might have lost touch with reality in his grief. Everyone very kindly ignored Superman’s flinch at the mention of both his dead mentee and cloning. 

The Justice League gets to watch as Dick misses the point so completely that they can practically see it over the pointy ears of his cowl.  He actually perks up and goes ‘Oh yeah, he mentioned having Ivy check over his methodology for that. She said it looked good but her specialty is plant genetics’. Like that is not an objectively insane thing to say. 

From Dicks, and in fact most if not all people who spend enough time in Gotham, perspective Tim was not insane for his attempts to clone Conner. He had a plan to mitigate harm for innocents (potentially viable clones who were not Conner), was not attacking/involving other people, had another affiliated expert look at his work before he pushed the big red button, and he even stopped when it was pointed out that it would have been against Conner wishes. To a Gothamite that means Tim is practically reasonable in his 99 attempts to clone Conner. 

The Justice League can only conclude, after some carefully phrased questions, that the Batfam have unfortunately lost touch with reality due to grief, understandable grief but also very out of touch. Dick does not realize this is what is being thought, as he is just so relieved that they are on track to get Bruce back that he does not hear the incredulity in the questions, until a majority vote rejects the use of JL resources for the purpose of searching for the former Batman in time (it should be noted that The Flash-Barry- and Superman both voted to try. Diana abstained).  

We are going with the idea that it is more than just massive resources or expertise that the JL would provide, but some resource, item, or device, that is unique to the Justice League that cannot be procured by any individual member. 

So Dick has to go back to 3 family members (Jason, Cass, Damian) who have all had significant exposure to Lazarus water, which is known for emotional outburst overriding common sense, Steph the daughter of a supervillain (Arthur Brown may have been a d rate supervillain, he was still a supervillain), Barbara the all knowing Oracle (whose morals have adjusted to working with former Rogues) and her cadre of Birds of Prey, and possibly the 2 most frightening people on the planet (Tim and Alfred) with the news that the JL will not help them. This is also Dick, whose anger issues and need for revenge built Robin. 

The only restriction that Dick manages to get them all to agree on is that they will not make trouble for Superman, Flash, or Wonder Woman (Jason throwing his own support in no trouble for Diana). Then, with full and loving knowledge of what he was doing, Dick set them all loose upon the world (making it clear to the JL that Bruce is the only one who could reign them in). 

It takes six weeks before the decision to help find Bruce and retrieve him from the timestream is approved. In that time:

Cass and Steph become the rulers of a small country, ruling with an iron fist but enough morals that most of the populace loved them. 

Jason, with the Outlaws, managed to take out the League of Assassins (and incidentally managed to humiliate not one but three different Green Lanterns, mostly by accident). 

Damian met, became offended by, and dismantled a faux government organization in the midwest in possibly the most attention attacking way he could. 

Oracle wrote and released a highly tailored virus that released random ‘scandalous but not overall dangerous’ secrets on a schedule for every politician in the world. Her Birds of Prey kept Gotham running, along with Batman!Dick. At some point during this time the Joker ended up dead, but no one is admitting to who did.

Tim and Alfred did indeed become a major world power within the first three weeks. It wasn’t until week four that they gained nuclear power status, but quickly had a seat offered to them at the UN. They had just started considering if they should be expanding into the reaches of space when the JL capitulated. 

Bruce is brought back into a world where his kids are more feared than he is.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Hey I was thinking how would every wukong in different universe do on Valentine’s Day’s with the reader or Y/N it can be a couple thing or married couple

2 weeks till valentine's day 🥰

(Lmk Wukong) Ah Indoor movie dates their's nothing like them, Wukong and you would wear your most comfortable clothes and cuddle on the couch under a nice warm blanket. You both would get your favorite movies and bucket loads of snacks and just relax and enjoy each other's company after all you both have been married for 500+ years.

(HIB Wukong) It's date night and you both go out to a nice cutesy restaurant together. Can you believe that Wukong would get so nervous about going out with you, despite you both being married for centuries. It's exactly like that every year, but it's sooo adorable with his red nervous face and giving you your favorite flowers. It's like your both still dating and it would always warm your heart.

(MKR Wukong) Valentines Day ewww😒 was what he would always say and think, he would get nauseous at the lovey dovey couples around him. That was until he himself had found a nice monkey girl and when and got married himself, so uhhh that's karma but good karma. You both would cuddle quietly together under the night sky as you and the other couples would watch the shooting stars, Wukong didn't need to make wishes though he already got what he wished for.

(NR Wukong) You both would go out dancing every year on Valentine's Day, and what's different about it.... well, it's one of those slow dances for people who got married. Wukong would always find a way to touch you or make contact, I mean, he loves to be around you all the time. You both have though some crazy sh*t together over the years, and their are times where he's tired and for once had enough but then he remembers you. You unwavering support and endless love and next to Li and Su, one of the last good things in his life He'll genuinely never know what he would do without you. It's what makes him get back up and keep moving, after all he's got you to care very much for He can't leave you behind.

(Netflix Wukong) Hates to admit it, but Valentines Day is his day of reflection and remembrance, especially with you. Wukong had been alone for a Concerningly long time not being accepted by anyone, not even his own kind, Wukong tried his best to fit in somehow until he met Lin and a little bit later you. You have accepted Wukong right away with open arms and an open heart. You treated him so kindly and so gently that he thought you had to be a dream, but as the years go by. he finally realized after meeting, after dating, after marriage up until now, you weren't going anywhere and continued to love him despite his shortcomings and personality. Wukong made a vow to never stop loving you and never forget your unconditional love for him as well.

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh boi he can't keep his claws of you on valentine's day or any day of the year. He took you to see the fireworks, however he got a little to occupied with you, so you snuck to the very back and tongue wrestled to your hearts content. It's safe to say that Wukong was addicted and obsessed with you, and he would absolutely smother you in affection and love. He may be egotistical and mildly problematic, however their will never be a doubt about his sweet love for you.

(Destined one) A nice moment of silence between the two of you, being at home and enjoying some quiet time as well. The Destined one would take this time to observed you thinking about how far you two have come from your hardships and dark days. You both have support for each other as you both would cuddle, purr, and even kiss, you both laying on the bed listening to each others heartbeats and softly breathing. With an occasional kiss on his cheek the Destined one was finally at peace with just you, and only you.

(Lotmk Wukong) With you both privacy is everything it's where you both a free to explore each other and bond as a married couple. Wukong honest words and thoughts about you wil always leave you breathless, especially when he showering you with Compliments as he smothers you next and cheek with sweet kiss and soft whispers. Your sweet shared promises and gentle whispers your both in your on world of heaven, giving you both true peace and love at last.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🥰😘

[questionableadvice]

In honor of Black History Month: Ellen Eglin

(TW: historic racism)

OK, so it's 1880 and you're doing laundry. You've hauled the water in from the well or river. You've built up the fire and you've soaked or boiled everything in soapy water, hauled it out and dumped it into clean water for a rinse and now you're ready to hang it on the line. You reach in and pull something out and start wringing the excess water out by hand. Squeeze, twist, squeeze. Then the next thing. Pretty soon your wrists start to hurt. Squeeze, twist, squeeze. Doing laundry in the nineteenth century sucks. At least that's what Ellen Eglin might have thought when she invented the laundry wringer. Behold! You can now feed each piece of laundry in between the adjustable rollers, turn the handle and squeeze out more water more easily then ever before.

This is what we would call a "game changer" in the world of laundry. In fact, the basic wringer was improved on and sold commercially as part of the washing experience as late as the 1960's. And you can still buy a wringer today from places like Amazon and Walmart.

Ellen Eglin was a brilliant woman and she was also a woman of color. In 1891 she was interviewed by "The Woman Inventor" and explained why she sold her game changing invention to a white person for $18.00 (approx. $450 today):

As far as I can find out, Ellen Elgin spent the rest of her life as a government clerk and there is no mention of any other inventions. Meanwhile the owners of the Universal Clothes Wringer were putting out ads like this:

Ugh.

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 - Relapse | Chapter 7

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word Count: 4.1k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

You awoke with the King’s arms wrapped around you. His head rested above yours and his abdomen cradled your back. You slowly shuffled until you were facing him. All of his eyes still hid away in slumber as his mouth laid gently parted to release unfettered breaths. You smiled at how cute he looked. So peacefully sleeping and completely unaware of his surroundings. A dark thought of how easy it’d be to end him, the way his eyes would look when he realized his mistake of trusting you crossed your mind. You reached your hand up and caressed his face, pushing the thought away. After a few passes of your hand you felt him lean into your touch, face turning slightly to kiss your hand.

“G��morning brat”, he mumbled through groggy lips. His eyes peaked open at you, a smile constructing itself on his lips as he took your groggy features in. He reached one of his hands up to tuck your hair behind your ear and smooth your morning flyaways.

“Good morning Lord Spooky”, you said as you smiled back. You could genuinely say you were happy to wake up in his arms this morning. Last night, he was so caring with you. He kept you held in his lap while he cleaned you of your mixed cum, kissing you gently while he did. And then he helped you dry off before dressing you in his clothes and making sure you ate enough dinner. That was just the kind of night you needed after your nightmare. If he had tried to dominate you last night, you might’ve broken and killed him. The visits of your past had become more frequent since you came here. The feeling of being trapped taking you back to when you actually were. But right now, all that weight felt gone. Here in his arms, you felt untouchable.

He chuckled at his new nickname before pulling you into his chest. He hugged you tight, hand still smoothing your hair. He couldn’t help but keep beaming as he felt peace for the first time in a long time. The energy between you two wasn’t feral or explosive right now. No, it was calming. It felt like you two were finally on the same wavelength. Neither of you were mad at each other, both of you were just enjoying each other’s company. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he had been having nightmares of your lifeless body. The moment your head fell into the water playing over and over in his mind. The memory of how much you hated him, the way he could feel how you felt about him. You were filled with such anger and disgust towards him. It brought long thought dead parts of his psyche back to life just to bring all consuming pain to the rest of him. He was used to just killing people or having subservient subordinates, but those weren’t options with you. In all his years, this was the first time he has been forced to face a situation like this— forced to feel like this.

“Kuna”, you called out. His name muffled from how he had buried you into his chest.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Are you hungry”, you asked as you managed to pull your head back and look at him.

A fox’s smile frolicked upon his face as one of his hands caressed along your jaw. “Hmm I would say I am hungry for many things, what are you offering”. His hand softly marked ownership of your face with his thumb as he awaited your answer.

You chuckled a little and broke his gaze which prompted him to lift your chin. For some stupid childish reason your cheeks were growing hot as he stared at you. “I- uhm well I suppose I am open to anything if you ask very nicely”, you stuttered out. Usually you were great at flirting and being a cocky little shit about it, but usually you didn’t feel anything for the other person. Usually you knew that relationships like this were not a long term option for you, but this time was different. He wouldn’t find something out that would scare or disgust him so much he would run away. You wouldn’t ever have to hide your thoughts because you knew his were just as fucked up and demented. Not to mention he is the King which would make you a Queen and you weren’t against that title. It had a nice ring to it. It was strange though. Scary even. You had never considered what it would feel like to find someone who mirrored you. How vulnerable and sometimes gruelling it was to look at your reflection. You internally roasted yourself for having such feelings as you watched his smile grow from your inability to properly construct words.

He drew his face closer to yours. “Anything I want? And all I have to do is ask nicely”, he asked as he started leaving light kisses along your face. He gripped your hips and pulled you close to his hardening cocks, his lips greeting your neck with suckling. Purple promises bloomed across your skin like unspoken bonds sealed within. His teeth grazed over each spot as if begging to sign them in blood and be forever intertwined with you. Request for permission to claim your blood as his once more was interrupted with a knock.

“Who in the hell is it”, he said while lifting his head, one hand covering your ear so the shout wouldn’t hurt it. You smiled to yourself from the show of affection. You kissed and sucked on his exposed neck muscles while he waited for the door’s assailant to reveal themselves. Hands teasingly ghosting over the top of his pubic bone.

“It’s Uruame, my King”, the voice declared.

A smile made its way onto your face as you felt the affects your actions were having. You could hear his breath get lost in his throat as the instinct to pull you closer and grind himself in between your legs took over. You allowed your teeth to continue their assault on the promises you gave him. One assault led to the breaking of skin and the way he twitched against you as his hips bucked slightly made your core ache. Your tongue lapped at his skin in fervent apologies and taunting. He let out a low groan before asking, “And what in the hell possessed you to interrupt my morning, Uruame?”

“The Lord of Kurashiki is here for his meeting with you, my King. Would you like me to reschedule?”

Yes, actually he would like to reschedule and spend the morning with his cocks buried inside you instead. He pulled you off his neck and kissed you, his mouth reclaiming some of his blood off your tongue before pulling away with a displeased sigh. “No, I will meet him in the throne room in 20 minutes”, he said with lack of enthusiasm.

“Yes, my King, I shall notify him.”

“Do you want me to go with you”, you asked as you stretched your limbs and yawned.

“No, there’s not a need. His mind is disgusting and he wouldn’t benefit from crossing me, so I'll save you the sight of his thoughts”, he said while pulling his arms away from you and sitting up. He threw the blanket off of himself and got out of bed. You rolled onto your stomach, propped yourself up on your elbows, and drank in the sight of him in all his glory. Tattoos running over honed muscles, hair still messy from sleep, and both of his cocks standing upright against his lower abdomen. You bit your bottom lip and your thighs involuntarily clenched together at the dirty thoughts flooding your body.

He looked down at how you ogled him and smirked. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be back to spread those holes wide open soon enough. Until then, you have the morning to yourself”, he said as he started dressing. After staying a few nights with him, you learned that he did most things himself when in his room. You were actually the only other person allowed in here.

You pouted a little as you got up from the bed. “Hmm, okay. I guess I can let you go for now”, you said as you walked towards him. You put yourself in front of him in the mirror as you leaned against him. You grabbed one of your boobs as you lifted a leg and spread your bottom lips with your fingers. In the mirror you could clearly see that you were dripping, little trails trickling down your thighs. You locked eyes with him in the mirror before leaning your head back to look up at him. You put your now wet fingers in front of his lips, his mouth immediately opening to take them in. He sucked your cum off of them while you smiled. “Just be sure you keep your word”, you said before pulling away from him. You walked over to the folded clothes he left for you and started dressing. His eyes followed your figure and he genuinely considered blowing off all his duties for the day and becoming a mess of limbs with you instead. A dissatisfied growl sounded from him as he finished getting ready and realized he was actually choosing his duties over you. If the Lord of Kurashiki wasn’t such a powerful connection he would’ve, but instead he was turning you around to kiss you goodbye before leaving.

You had decided to use your day off to train seeing as it was the most productive way to pass time. You dragged your feet to the training grounds, wishing you were still in bed with Sukuna instead. You cursed Uruame for interrupting you two and the Lord of whatever for having an appointment. It was selfish, but you wanted the King all to yourself today. Things had been different between the two of you– better. You wanted to milk every last drop of it. But instead, you were turning the corner of the training grounds. Flashes of Uruame attacking you flooded your mind. You laughed at the thought of him believing he could take you on. And you laughed harder at the punishment he received for it.

“Woah, careful there. With that kind of laugh you’re starting to look crazy”, Suguru said from where he stood on the training grounds.

You looked over at him and your eyes lit up. It had been so long since you had seen him and he would make time pass quickly for sure. “Suguru! You’re here”, you shouted as you ran over to him. “Thank the gods, I thought I was going to be bored out of my mind training alone. Have you just started? Or are you finishing”, you asked.

He held up his hands as if fending off your excitement and barrage of questions. “Uhm, I guess somewhere in the middle”, he answered as if he was unsure.

“Oh, okay good. We can train together then. I thought I was going to have to train with Miro again”, you answered as you started stretching.

“Miro”, Suguru questioned.

You looked over to him and realized he didn’t know about him. You smiled real big as you summoned him. Geto jumped back as a circle of mist formed on the ground and out crawled Miro. “You can summon curses too?”

You looked at him and blinked. “You can summon curses?”

“Yes, dumbass that’s why I said “too "", he retorted.

“Yeah well you’re the dumbass if all you can do is just summon them”, you shot back while crossing your arms. Miro smiled and also crossed his arms as he nodded along.

“Yes, my Lady created me. If all you can do is summon regular curses then you are indeed a dumbass”, Miro backed up.

Suguru just blinked at Miro. “Woah, he talks so well. You really made him”, he asked. He walked up close to him and started examining him. Miro began strutting his stuff, lifting his arms and contorting his legs into different poses. You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked.

“What are his powers”, Suguru asked.

“He can reanimate the dead and store them. Oftentimes he modifies them to be stronger or just look how he thinks they should be”, you responded.

“Oooh my Lady speaks so fondly of me but I am only made in her image. Only operating with a fraction of her power. All in her name hehehe all for her”, he began rambling on about your greatness and before long he was bowing at your feet. His mouth foamed from heavy breathed laughter as he begged you to bless him with a show of your strength.

You and Geto watched him with growing disgust before exchanging looks between each other. “Yea, it makes sense that you made him now”, he said as he disregarded him and went back to training his energy..

“Wow, and just like that you’re back to being uninterested, huh”, you asked.

He looked over at you and smirked. “Well, you see, I was going to have you make one for me but seeing how he turned out… I think I am good”, he relayed nonchalantly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “So you look down on him for being a little crazy when he would hand you your ass in a fight”, you taunted.

“First of all, he is way more than a little crazy. Second of all, your little pet doesn’t stand a chance against me”, he argued.

“Wanna bet?”

He stopped what he was doing and turned towards you, eyebrows piqued with interest. “Depends, what are the stakes?”

“Hmm, I’ll be nice and let you decide what you want if I lose. However, if you lose, you have to bow before me and admit that you were unworthy of challenging my creations”, you explained.

Geto stared at you before releasing a scoffing chuckle, “Fine, fine, I’ll accept that. But when I win, you will not only create me a powerful curse of my choosing, you will also stand in as one of my servants for a whole day”, he solidified.

Your jaw dropped. “Wooww. Actually, I want to add that to mine. I recently lost two servants, so you can fill in for a day”, you amended while nodding.

“How did you lose two servants? Are they hiding from you?”

“Uhmm not exactly. I am pretty sure Sukuna killed them because they were close to me”, you explained.

Geto stared at you for a few minutes before taking a few steps back from you. “Noted”, he said with a nod. You offered an awkward laugh before clearing your throat.

“Miro, you better win. If you lose you are dead to me and not getting summoned again”, you childishly said while walking to the side of the training grounds.

Miro’s face lost its twisted delight and was replaced with a seriousness he was not known to possess. He walked to the center of the court until he was standing a few feet in front of Suguru. The air became thick as languid power gushed from Miro. A smile grew onto his lips, abandoning the rest of his serious facade. Four chained coffins bloomed from black pools opening in the ground. As they fully emerged, the black sank away along with the chains. All four doors swing open at once. In unison, Miro’s creations stepped from their confines and revealed their forms.

The smug air that surrounded Geto turned against him and began to suffocate him as he recognized the four. They were all from the once renowned Zenin clan. He had heard that they all went silent and hadn’t been heard from in a while. Geto let out a chuckle as he began to understand their absence. Fuck me man. Those assholes were notorious when alive. As a beefed up zombie? I can only imagine what they’re like. Dread wound its way up Geto’s body, ready to go in for the constricting slaughter, but with the raise of Geto’s hands, its hold was dispelled. His own dark blotches polluted the earth and within an instant a white dragon charged forward straight towards Miro. The dragon’s jaw surrounded his abdomen, biting down. Miro’s body was dragged backwards with the dragon until his skin and bones lost their connections and his body dropped on two sides of the dragon as it continued in its path.

“Looks like your little pet wasn’t quite up to par, huh (Y/N)?” Suguru’s face lit up with a shit eating grin as his dragon returned to his side. His untamed smugness was reigned in when the sides of his dragon’s abdomen began to protrude oddly. The affected areas stretched until you could see the imprint of hands pushing and tearing within the beast. A painful roar ripped throughout the arena as the dragon lost control of its body. Without command, it flopped on its side and repeatedly bashed itself into the ground in an attempt to stop the onslaught being bared by its insides. Just when the hands were ready to bore through, the dragon heaved forth the contents of its stomach. Covered in bile stood Miro’s missing torso, hands and other deformed limbs bubbled from it as it skittered towards its missing pieces. Miro’s head laid smiling as his feet approached him. His abdomen jumped on top of his hips and his shoulders climbed up the body until he was standing just like before.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that Miro’s body holds no vitality? Destroying him will be a little more complex than tearing him apart”, you said while smirking.

In the middle of your sentence, the head of Geto’s dragon began to tilt oddly before slowly slipping across its freshly revealed flesh onto the ground. Blood began to spew in lines from all over its body until it collapsed in pieces. In the middle of the gore stood a tall muscular man wrapped in a tight black shirt and flowing pants. He held onto a sword and dagger, both drenched in the rainbow dragon’s blood. A smirk grew upon his lifeless face, a face that was once equally feared and revered— Toji Fushiguro’s face. “I guess yours don’t put themselves back together”, Miro taunted through Toji’s body.

Geto raised his hand to summon another spirit but as soon as he did he screamed out in pain. It appeared as if the cause was invisible but in the wind you could see thread faintly glisten. Miro had taken advantage of Geto’s attention being on his dead companion and trapped him. Each of his limbs was now tightly bound and ready to be puppeteered. If he followed along, there would be no pain, but if he resisted even slightly it would cut through his bones.

You watched as Miro drew closer to Suguru until they were face to face. “Is this all you have? I thought I was mad and incapable of holding a light to your battle prowess. What happened? Where’s all that bravado you had before”, he taunted with a smile. On the edge of his words were pure spite. To him, he not only offended his capabilities, but yours. He was made in your image, your favorite toy and most loyal servant. If he was not capable then that would be calling you incapable.

Anger flickered across Sugeru’s features for half a second before he smiled with Miro. He could throw out more, but it was clear this wasn’t a battle where he would come out unscathed. In the interest of not feeling pain, he looked at you. “Uncle?”

You laughed at his pitiful forfeit and Miro’s shock from how quickly he gave up. He wanted to punish him further for his transgressions. “No, he can’t be done, we barely fought”, he protested.

“Release him Miro”, you ordered. You expected about as much. You didn’t figure Suguru to be the type to keep pushing into a fight he wasn’t absolutely certain he could dominate if he didn’t have to.

Miro glared at Suguru as he dispelled his threads and used them to pull Toji back into his box. He stomped back to the coffins fuming. This was his chance to show off, but he didn’t even get to showcase 3 of out 4 of his favorite toys and he barely got to showcase one. He let out a disgruntled rant under his breath as he sank with them into the in between.

You walked to Geto and grabbed his hand, an action that took him by surprise. He tried to pull it back but you held firm. “Relax, you’re not going to get killed for this”, you assured him. You allowed your power to seep into him to mend his hand and he could feel it. When he spoke to Uruame after the incident, he said your healing felt strange. Like you were going inside of them and merging for a second. He could feel your power hum through his veins, feel every emotion you felt at that moment. For Uruame, it was hate and enjoyment, but for him it was happiness, care, and of course, lots of unrelenting cockiness. It felt like a warm, safe blanket enveloping him from the inside. If he felt like this, he could only imagine what Sukuna felt. He merged with you in more ways than one. He didn’t buy Sukuna being nice or wanting to change for you but this feeling made everything a little more clear. He was sure he would do unheard of things if given the opportunity to feel more of it.

You looked up at Geto who you noticed had been staring at you for quite some time. You had set and reconnected his bones and tissue, so at first you thought he was staring at you to not look at his hand or in amazement. But now you were done and he was still looking. It happened the first time you healed any of your friends. Nanami had actually pinned you against the counter of the closed bar and taken you right then and there.

Knowing that scenario was absolutely not an option here, you cleared your throat. His gaze widened slightly as he zoned back in and then he returned your throat clearing as he withdrew his hand. “I better not get killed for you healing me, I will haunt your ass”.

You laughed and promised him that you wouldn’t let that happen. You sighed and stretched before using your senses to reach out for Sukuna. You found him not super far away, he actually seemed to be approaching the training grounds accompanied with another. The presence felt familiar, but also completely unfamiliar to you. Maybe you had met a relative of the visitor you thought. You might’ve pondered longer if giddiness wasn’t blanketing your senses in a mind numbing need to see Sukuna. You started towards the gate they were coming to but stopped in your tracks as they came around the corner.

His companion smiled widely as he looked you up and down, “Long time, no see, Little Dove”.

You froze as the smell of musty pine filled your senses. Bile rose in your throat and your body temperature dropped. Your limbs felt like stone as you simply stared at him with wide eyes. Just being in his presence had your mind being overridden by anxiety and fear. Sukuna and Geto looked between the two of you, not oblivious to the fact you were not okay. Sukuna could feel the jumbled up emotions ricocheting inside you as your body seemed to have shut down. Geto reached out for you, but you didn’t feel his touch. You didn’t feel anything. Sukuna’s mouth moved but all you could hear right now was your own heartbeat. Your gaze found imprisonment to the man’s face. That smile brought forth memories of the laugh behind it, you could feel it curl against your skin. The present seemed to constantly glitch back to the past, the scenery of the palace changing to the darkness of your cell. Black grew from the border of your vision until it covered your eyes completely. You felt your consciousness fade as the power within you took over.

Sukuna grabbed you and tried to get you to calm down as Geto set his power to the man who seemed to set you off. He wasn’t sure why he did, but he for sure didn’t want to see what scared you. None of it mattered though. With her in control, none of them would be left when you came back. Maybe nothing at all would be left.

Notes: I am mentally ill again which means I am creative once again hehe. Next chapter later this week. Extras below

- Miro is literally still in the in between screaming and rolling on the floor. Geto ruined everything for him. He had so much more to show you. He wanted to make you proud and have you know that he would forever take care of you. Man is seriously yandere for you and doesn’t even try to hide it. He just wants you to be happy and pay attention to him in any way

- Geto obviously has some feelings for the reader but doesnt have a death wish so he would never act on them. If Sukuna found out he wouldn’t kill him though. Instead, he would constantly flaunt you in front of him and how he was allowed to touch you. If he was really feeling it he might even let him touch you, but that would mean Geto would be in more danger cause Kuna would kill him if he overstepped in any way. Or at least make him wish he was dead since he knows you value his companionship.

- Nanami got pretty cut up in a fight when you guys were younger. When you were healing him he started silently crying while staring at you. He never felt so warm and whole inside. He started kissing you and one thing led to another next thing you know you guys fucked in the once abandoned bar he now runs. The sex was very good. The kinda dorky loner you had grown up with was slowly turning into a man with smoldering intensity and authoritative features. You really considered a life with him. But the life you considered was selfish. Nanami would be kept under lock and key so that no one could take him from you too early. He was so fragile and weak compared to what you knew was out there after all. You would give him everything he ever wanted in return. It all genuinely seemed like a viable plan to you and that’s what made you pull away. You never wanted to own another human like that.

Taglist: @missroro @roxytheimmortal @reneki

[lsunstreakerl]

slinking out of my homework induced coma. darkbull! 1.7k words, carlos pov. (I'll be posting the "discipline" ficlet later today hopefully, but you guys get some insight into it with this one). once again: this is the darkbull universe. it's not as bad as the kidnapping ficlet but it's not great either.

Carlos breaths out a slow breath, fingertips grazing the cool metal in front of him. Wheatley watches impassively from a few feet away, protective headphones around his neck.

"Your father ever teach you to handle those?"

Carlos remembers being small, holding BB pellets in his hands, but-

That had been for fun. Not anything serious, just boys being boys, trying to see who had the best aim, who could hit the furthest can.

Nothing like this.

He wraps his fingers around the handle and lifts, feeling the weight in his palms. It feels heavy, but not as much as it should.

Something with the power to so easily take a life shouldn't be so easy to lift.

"He didn't teach me with one of these, no."

Wheatley nods, stepping closer and rearranging Carlos's fingers around the handle.

"It's going to have some kickback. I don't want you worrying about bullseyes yet. I want you making sure your aim is steady."

Carlos brings it up in front of him as Wheatley raises his headphones up, placing Carlos's over his ears as well.

He widens his stance a bit, steadies himself as much as possible. Wheatley had been telling him about this part- shoot on exhale.

He focuses on the target and lets his thumb flick over the safety.

This is not what he thought he'd be doing when he joined Formula 1- not even close. None of it is. He didn't think he'd be content in a "junior" team, he didn't think he'd end up entangled in part of a historical criminal empire, he didn't think he would be in a three way relationship where only two of them know what's actually happening.

At least- he thinks it's three way. If it's not now, it will be soon. Daniel has been circling him and Max, like the moon orbiting the Earth. He gets closer each pass, eating meals with them or doing workouts together, and Carlos knows Max is head over heels, so it's really only a matter of time.

Max wants Daniel, just like he'd wanted Carlos, and he gets what he wants.

Always.

Max getting what he wants is why Carlos is here in the factory basement, learning how to kill someone.

Max has no idea about the way the factory revolves around him. He's their guiding star, their perfect pet, their number one driver.

Carlos sometimes finds himself wondering if Max even realized what was happening when he was seventeen. Probably not- Carlos remembers Max at seventeen, angry and defensive. Nothing like the Max of now, fierce on track but happy to roll over for the team, let them do whatever they want to him.

If Carlos hadn't been present in the factory to watch the slow progression, he almost wouldn't believe it. He has to respect Redbull for their patience, but-

He's afraid of how long they're willing to play the long game. They'd been so careful with Max. They'd gained his trust, and they'd gone so slowly it's no surprise Max didn't notice.

Holding onto him just a bit longer in a hug than someone normally would, a hand slipping lower on his back or higher on his thigh, palms around his neck- the slow removal of personal space, of boundaries- the way there are always eyes on him. Max is so used to being observed he doesn't even register it anymore.

Carlos had pressed him against a counter the other day, because Max had been sweet and desperate and wanting, and he'd had a moment where he worried that someone could walk in.

And then Max had whined into his mouth and begged for his fingers, and Carlos realized he didn't care. Max's flat is bugged, there are trackers buried deep into muscle and flesh, the team has never had any grievances about drugging him- if someone walks in on them, they'll probably just be glad to see Max has his needs met.

Just like he'd feared, someone had walked in- gotten their drink from the fridge as normal, winked at Carlos, and then left.

The only change afterwards was that Carlos felt like the team approved of him more.

So. He's been proving himself right lately.

Carlos looks at the target in front of him. Max is so- Max is naive, about the whole thing. The team works very hard to keep it that way, and that responsibility now falls on Carlos as well.

He tries to imagine someone breaking in, trying to hurt Max, trying to kill Max-

Redbull would go on a warpath.

Carlos thinks of Max laid out underneath him in bed, curled up with him on the couch, running next to him on the track. Fierce, syrupy sweet Max.

He thinks of someone else getting that Max, someone who's not Redbull, someone who hasn't put in the work.

There's a sharp flicker of possessiveness through him.

Carlos fires.

------

Two weeks later:

Carlos has his back leaned against the headboard, Max asleep between his legs, head resting on his stomach.

Daniel steps back out of the bathroom, passing Carlos a washcloth.

"He out?"

Carlos nods, fingers absentmindedly running through Max's hair. It's been getting softer since Carlos convinced him to start using conditioner. It's getting longer as well- enough that Carlos can tug on it gently, enough that the ends of it curl at the nape of his neck.

"Yes."

Daniel pulls on a pair of sweatpants and settles next to Carlos, careful not to shift the bed too much. They're both talking quietly.

"Well, we know he likes that."

Carlos huffs a small laugh.

"We should keep a list."

He means it as a joke, but the way Daniel tilts his head, eyes assessing- it might not be a half bad idea.

Daniel reaches over to the bedside table, tearing out a piece of paper from one of their smaller notebooks as he snags a pen.

His eyes shift over to Carlos, and he sounds contemplative when he speaks.

"Wheatley's added evening meets to my schedule for the next two weeks- said I should ask you about it."

Well, that answers a question Carlos had been wondering about, if Daniel had been trained already or not.

"He's going to teach you to shoot. Also some knife work."

Daniel snorts, eyes crinkling over at him.

"Nah mate, seriously, what's it about?"

Carlos lowers his head a bit, eyes flicking back down to where Max is asleep between them.

"I am serious. We are around Max a lot- we should know how to protect him just as well as the rest of the garage."

Daniel's eyes are wide when Carlos looks back up at him.

"Oh."

He carefully folds the paper up before sliding it back in the drawer.

"When did they start teaching you?"

Carlos hums, lightly scratching his nails across Max's scalp. Even in his sleep he makes a soft noise, burrowing slightly closer to Carlos.

"Right after we got together. The team is very observant about these things."

Daniel nods.

"And he seriously doesn't know anything?"

Carlos shakes his head, but it's somewhat fond. How Max has managed to remain completely oblivious is a feat in itself, and Carlos has his suspicions that Max purposely ignores things that don't make sense. Ignorance is bliss, or something like that.

"No idea. I think maybe he gets suspicious when the team is mad at him, but it is hard to keep track during that time. He gets very lost."

"Mad at him- like a couple weeks ago with the Williams incident? The only thing I noticed was that he was a lot quieter and had a hard time staying focused. If anything, the team seemed nicer to him."

Daniel sounds confused, which is fair.

"Daniel, that is the punishment."

Carlos needs to think of a way to phrase this that doesn't send Daniel running for the hills, cultlike crime empire team bosses be damned.

Carlos had thought it was bad too, when he'd first learned, but he's since then seen the positive effects. Max really does do better this way, with the positive reinforcement, but sometimes they have to... wipe the slate first.

"The Williams thing, he was reckless, yes? Was not thinking of his own safety on that overtake, and it crashed them both out. He was not thinking of his own safety because the pundits that week were talking shit about him."

Daniel still looks confused.

"They were talking shit about the whole garage, yeah. That weekend sucked."

"So the most recent thing in his brain is the media, for that race. Makes him race bad. The solution is to,"

Carlos flounders for a second. Christian had explained this much better.

"The team 'wipes the slate', if that makes sense. When he is lost or unfocused, it is because they are trying to remind him of the actual priorities. You will hear them remind him often about how we want him to drive. The repetitiveness-"

Carlos spins his index finger a few times to mimic the motion.

"-it sticks with him. He doesn't remember specific things from that time if they only happen once, but if everyone is telling him frequently to look out for his own safety in the car... much easier for him to remember, yes?"

Carlos brings his hand back down. It really does make sense, if you skip past the questionable ethics.

"And he does not like to be confused like that, so he tries to do what the team asks and avoid it."

Daniel's brows are furrowed, and he looks concerned- but also deep in thought.

"How the fuck are they doing that?"

Carlos shrugs.

"No idea."

He lets the topic drop, because he does know. Had even helped with it, after the Williams incident, because it helps Max, but Daniel-

Daniel isn't ready for that yet. Might not agree to the group effort of slipping things in Max's food and drinks, keeping him unsteady and disoriented. Carlos doesn't like doing it, none of the team does, but it's a necessary thing.

Besides-

He looks back down at Max. He's so trusting of all of them. Eager to please, thrives on praise- none of them could bear actually being angry with him. It still hurts the heart of the team when he's confused like that, and it's upsetting to see the way he gets disoriented and lost, but he comes out of it better. It's the right thing to do for him, and it works.

Daniel will get looped in when he's ready.

[freak-attorney]

Do you have any school related (highschool and/or college) related AA headcanons? I'm not sure how schooling worked exactly for Mia, Maya, and Pearl given where they lived, so I dunno. Mainly Phoenix, Edgeworth, Franziska and Gumshoe

Ace Attorney HS/Uni Headcanons!

(I admittedly haven't thought about this much before but I'm happy to share!)

Phoenix Wright

High School

Really good at creative writing

Good at the humanities in general

Barely passed chemistry (started a fire in the lab and had to let his partner take over for the rest of the year)

Best friends with his Language Arts teacher

Got detention for being late to class too much

Did NOT pass the Presidential Fitness Test (he couldn't do a pull up)

On a first name basis with the lunch ladies

Applied to maybe 3 colleges

He was a band kid for sure... probably played the clarinet

University/College

Was really good friends with his roommate but they lost touch once he went to law school

Not great at pottery but still made little projects to give to his friends whenever he took a class

Rushed a few fraternities (he didn't get a bid to any of them)

Didn't learn how to talk to girls until Dahlia/Iris

Took a few philosophy classes and yapped in every discussion

Joined a debate club.. he lost most of the time but it made him want to get better!

Was very much oblivious to every girl that ever attempted to flirt with him

Had a group of 3-4 friends that he ate lunch with at the same time everyday

Got super wasted at a party and ended up in the front yard of a frat house off campus

Sweatpants + a hoodie were his go to fits

Miles Edgeworth

High School

Did not get along with many others

Went to public school up until high school where he went to a fancy private school

HATED group projects (asked the teachers if he could just do it himself)

It still haunts him that he got a "B" in Physics

Definitely took APUSH/any AP class he could

Did dual enrollment (completed his Associates)

Helped with the theatre program but only as part of the crew (probably stage manager or lead tech)

Valedictorian

Grade "A" instigator (he started a few fights)

Perfect attendance

Headphones in ALL THE TIME

Applied to at least 30 colleges

Scarily good at dodgeball whenever they played in phys ed

Threw up when they had to do frog dissections

College/University

Refused one of his top choices due to their communal showers

Never spoke a word to his roommate

Became a fan of women's rugby (introduced Franzi to it)

Thought Greek life was a waste of time and never even thought about rushing

Didn't go to a single party

Practically lived in the library

Took a class that introduced him to digital art and he really liked it (he didn't have time to continue it once the class ended)

Franziska von Karma

High School

Well-liked or feared?? Depends on who you ask

Fancy private schools her entire life. High school was no different.

Went through a phase of growing out her bangs but hated it

Full face of makeup every. single. day.

Straight A's (Papa would NOT be happy with anything less)

Extremely competitive with EVERYTHING (even the pacer test)

Excelled in the hard sciences but still went into law

She was the teacher's pet but no one dared to call her on it

Applied to every college she could find

Color coordinated notes for each class

Turned in assignments weeks before they were due

Dual enrollment/AP/IB is a given

She was in chorus (Alto)

Used a leather crossbody in place of a normal backpack

Valedictorian but she doesn't see it as a "real" achievement

College/University

Heavily involved with research

Knew her major the moment she applied (probably before then)

President of the debate team

Requested to not have a roommate

On the women's rugby team

Made out with one of the members of said rugby team and was too embarrassed afterwards to show up to practice for the next week (this one is so specific sorry)

Dressed well for class no matter how early

But she preferred late classes

Took many walks around campus at night

Got invited to Greek life formals (they were very bluntly turned down)

Overpacked for the school year every single time

Started the knitting club

Took ochem "for fun"

Godot/Diego

High School

Looked like a jock stereotype

Bullied the bullies

Public school all the way man

Kept photos of all his friends in his locker

On the track & field team (pole vaulting was his favorite)

Did swimming for a year (butterfly is his stroke)

Had several girlfriends before buckling down senior year and focusing on studying

Failed History

Took Spanish for his foreign language (he already knew it)

Applied to any college where he could get a scholarship

College/University

Involved in EVERYTHING

Didn't get along well with his roommate (Diego's side of the room was always messy)

Switched his major several times (started with music, then bio, then landed on polysci)

Definitely a tour guide

Continued playing sports throughout uni (including intramurals)

Joined 2 frats

Volunteered a lot (service distinction)

Got a job at a coffee shop near campus and that's where it all began...

Started growing out his facial hair sophomore year

Dick Gumshoe

High School

Not the smartest guy, but probably the nicest

Got along with everyone no problem

Found ways to skip phys ed

Friends with the nurse (very clumsy)

Excelled in trigonometry but not much else

Went to all the football games

Probably signed up to be the mascot

Did just enough to pass his classes

Fell asleep during class a lot

The chatty guy on the bus

Unintentional class clown

Spoke up in class a lot even if he was wrong

College/University

Only got into one college... but it was the one he really wanted!

Didn't do well in core classes but once he got to things he was interested in it was practically straight A's

Considered being a teacher for a long time but decided on detective

Signed up for a philosophy class but dropped it

Super interested in entomology

Joined club basketball (he wasn't super good but he had fun)

Kept the same roommate for all 4 years and still talks to him from time to time

Pretty well known on campus ("oh you mean the big, loud guy with the green jacket?")

Started wearing his iconic jacket at this time

Always wore jeans no matter the weather

Went to a few parties even though it's not his scene (some friends wanted him to go with them)

Received surprise bids from some fraternities but he declined

That's what I have for now! I hope you enjoyed, anon!!! I added Godot because I love him 🙂‍↕️

(feel free to request any other headcanons, I love making them! Other fandoms I'm in include Danganronpa (only played THH), Banana Fish, Haikyuu, Free, and Kakegurui!)

[great-septimus]

Hey, so I don't want to be that guy, but when are we going to acknowledge that Akechi was right?

No, I obviously don't mean about the things he was very clearly wrong about. I'm referring to the things he says in interviews about the Phantom Thieves. I hate how many people switch up after playing through his betrayal who previously agreed with his views, because nothing he said is wrong and nothing he did changes that fact. He speaks in the TV Station on the objective facts that he should know about, and with or without the context of his form of justice those facts stay true. It's a fallacy to claim that his form of justice being universally less approved of makes the Phantom Thieves better by comparison, or discredits anything he said. I don't think the Phantom Thieves are evil, or that they should necessarily be imprisoned, but I do think that they are not morally sound. They're kids. Prior to his betrayal I think he served his purpose well, but it's easy to disregard the validity of his words when you find out that he's a murderer. With the knowledge he SHOULD have had (and that many DID have), everything he says is true. And honestly? It still can be true for basically the entire plot of the game. Mishima's confidant tests the thieves in that way. They could have changed the hearts of anyone who's not a persona user, for any personal reason. It's a slippery slope.

I'll use these three options as an example for why he's right:

"They're justice itself" is just subjective and incorrect, because justice as a concept is individualized and given how each Phantom Thief has different reasons for being one it's ridiculous for even them to say. Their first target was before they even formed a group, and Ann was ready to kill Kamoshida. The others were not even going to step in, and they were going to respect her choice either way. All the members are so different, so this is an insane claim to make.

"They're necessary" is wrong because to say they are necessary is pretty disingenuous to all "justice" that has ever happened BEFORE they existed. I don't believe that the Thieves were a necessity per say, and personally I think their actions can only be judged on a case by case basis. Some Mementos targets for example have issues that stem beyond what they have done. Now they have their desires stolen but still have the issue that pushed them to immortality in the first place, plus a shitton of guilty baggage. The Thieves only help with the atonement, but not the push. How many of those people didn't just go right back to their past behaviors? How many of them got worse in other ways? Think about Futaba, she felt so guilty for something she thought she did, she formed a palace to condemn herself to die alone. To claim the Thieves are necessary to reform society implies that their method is the most effective, and I think that's a lot to claim for something they don't understand.

"They do more than the cops" I almost agree with. Legally the police in Japan in this game anyway (yes I'm aware it extends to reality in many ways, but I'm referring to just the game right now) are corrupt and flawed for the most part, but the thing I don't agree with is that this makes the Thieves a better alternative. They're not. For the same reason Yoshizawa says later, the Thieves can only do so much as vigilantes, and to imply that society should rely on these faceless nameless flawed people to fix society is not any better than what they have now. Especially with the method being unknown, potentially unsafe, and easily exploitable. I cannot be the only one who if the Phantom Thieves were real, would be extremely alarmed by the prospect of a group of vigilantes "changing hearts" right? It's so vague, and the pattern is dystopian. At least police methods are familiar

What I'm saying is that they're kids, and it's kind of insane that this game places Akechi as the narrative foil for the Thieves in their message and then makes it so easy to disregard because "he's an assassin so how could he know anything about justice". The Thieves don't either, and Ann was nearly a murderer. If the bar is "don't commit murder when you're infiltrating someone's mind" then it's far too low. I wouldn't trust a group of adults with this power to reform society, even less a group of teenage vigilantes. I'm 19, and I find this odd. And Strikers frames them as even more righteous, and it bugs me even more in that game. At least Royal has the third semester to give a bit more nuance to how big of a responsibility Ren was given, but that's also very frequently misinterpreted.

I love this game, and I love this fandom, and I have thoughts that get weird and ranty. I apologize, but I hope you all found this as interesting as I did.

[burningembers91]

A Helping Hand - Jang Dong-Soo x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Tattoos and Scars

Synopsis: When Jang Dong-Soo sees you struggling while running errands, he can’t help but come to your aid

It was rare that Jang Dong-Soo had a day off. A day without meetings, or deadlines came only once in a blue moon, and he never liked to waste a free day. He would argue until the day he died that the life of a gangster was harder than any other profession. He had to be a boss, an accountant, a teacher, a businessman and a security guard all rolled into one and sometimes he craved the mundane domesticity that came with errands.

He’d taken his suits to the dry cleaners, picked up some groceries and a nice bottle of wine, and been to the bank. He was planning a quiet night in, with some good, hearty comfort food and maybe a movie.

Dong-Soo wondered what you were doing today, whether you were working, or whether you were somewhere in the city, running errands too. He hadn’t seen you for a while, had somehow mercifully escaped knife wounds and fist fights for the last few months. He missed seeing you, so much so that he was seriously considering picking a fight just so he could land himself back in your hospital room. He missed the sound of your laugh, the smell of your perfume, the way you chastised him for getting into so many accidents. He wondered what you looked like when you weren’t wearing your scrubs, wondered whether your jeans, skirts and dresses hugged the delicate contours of your body.

Dong-Soo was desperate for physical touch, to feel the soft skin of a woman against his. He’d thought about going out and finding someone to occupy his interests for the night, but no one could captivate him quite like you could.

He was heading out of the bank when he saw you, ladened down with bags of groceries, your face flushed with the effort. You were wearing tight black leggings, and a simple green hoodie, but to Dong-Soo you’d never looked better. He’d told himself time and time again that he couldn’t get involved with you, that he couldn’t start something he didn’t think he’d be able to stop. But he couldn’t leave you to struggle, not when you’d helped him so much in the past.

“Let me,” he said, taking the bags from your hands. You hadn’t noticed him watching you, hadn’t sensed his presence until he was prying your shopping from your aching fingers.

You jumped, but you were grateful for the assistance, your upper body strength comparable to a soggy noodle. You were dreading having to carry those bags all the way home, and yet your favourite patient had appeared like your knight in a custom Versace suit.

“Jang Dong-Soo,” you smiled, massaging your aching palms. “Long time no see. Have you been staying out of trouble? Or have you found a new favourite nurse?”

He snorted at your joke; as if anyone could ever replace you. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, your forehead beaded in sweat with the exertion of carrying your weekly shop.

“Let me take these to your car,” he said, not willing to let you leave him just yet. This was the first time he’d seen you outside of the hospital, and we was keen to keep you to himself for a little longer.

“Oh,” you smiled sheepishly, “I’m not in my car today… I’m taking the bus.”

“Where’s your car?” Dong-Soo didn’t like the idea of you getting on public transport. He knew all too well the creeps that lurked on buses and subways, waiting for innocent, unsuspecting women. He wouldn’t be letting you take the bus, not while he was around.

“It’s… it’s at the junkyard,” you confessed. “Waiting to be turned into scrap and spare parts. It was on its last legs and finally died a few days ago.”

You didn’t want to admit that you couldn’t afford a new car, that your rent, bills and university debt took up the majority of your pay check each month.

“I’ll drive you home,” Dong-Soo insisted, not waiting for a response before he set off down the road. You had to jog to keep up with his hulking frame, his large, muscular arms carrying the bags as if they weighed nothing. You knew you should stop him, knew you should tell him you were happy to take the bus. As a medical professional, you were supposed to keep your relationship with your patients strictly within hospital walls, but there was something about the burly gangster that you couldn’t resist. You knew he was dangerous, knew the injuries he inflicted and received were no accident, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You found yourself sliding into the passenger seat of his car, giving him your address as his thick fingers punched it into his GPS. You were sure you’d live to regret this, but the man sitting next to you was such a mystery, and you were dying to find out his secrets.

You didn’t talk much as he weaved in and out of traffic, his expensive cologne enveloping you in a heady scent. You could feel the tension in the air, couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from his bear-like frame. You wondered, not for the first time, how it would feel to have him pick you up and throw you down on your bed. You wondered how it would feel to have his large, calloused hands trail down over your breasts, waist and hips.

When he pulled up outside your apartment, you didn’t want to get out of the car. You wanted to bask in his intimidating presence for just a moment longer.

“Can I help you upstairs with the bags?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate. Now that he’d spent that short car journey with you, the idea of going back to his apartment alone was beginning to feel less appealing.

“Yes, please,” you nodded, hoping you’d remembered to tidy the small space up enough. The elevator was a snug fit for the both of you, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. You could feel the heat of his body radiating against you, could see the rise and fall of his expansive chest with each breath he took.

Dong-Soo didn’t know what he’d expected to find in your apartment, but the small, cozy space was more than he’d bargained for. It was tastefully decorated, with books lining every available surface. You had a record player pride of place on your coffee table, and a stack of vinyls that could have been plucked straight from his own shelves. You had several pieces of artwork arranged on the walls, the artists unknown to him, but the pieces were ones that spoke to him. He could tell just by looking around the tiny space that you had every potential to be the woman of his dreams.

He gently placed the bags down for you, clearing his throat as his heart and head waged war against each other. He knew he should go, but he so desperately wanted to ask you to dinner. He wanted to find out more about you, wanted to see just how similar your interests were. But his desire to protect you kept him from taking things further, his need to keep you from the dangerous life he led overriding his desire to be with you.

“I should go,” he mumbled, not stopping to hear you say goodbye. He needed to be far away from you, needed to rid you from his thoughts before he did something he couldn’t take back.

The entire car journey home, he’d thought of nothing but kissing you, of pulling you into the back seats and making love to you on the soft leather seats. He was is in way over his head, fighting a battle his couldn’t win. He’d need to find a new nurse, someone he didn’t spend every waking hour thinking about.

His life was too dangerous for you, and he couldn’t allow his carnal desires to overtake his senses.

As he drove away, he decided it would be the last time he saw you. The next time he needed medical assistance, he’d go to a new hospital, one where you didn’t work. He would erase your address from his GPS, would forget the way your legs and ass looked in your skin tight leggings.

Yes, Dong-Soo was hopelessly in lust with you. But he’d have to push those feelings down, would have to forget about the one woman he could see himself building a life with.

He’d need to forget about you, in order to keep you safe from the very men who sent him so frequently to your hospital.

[obscenicon]

we owe our life to wemon

[grimmcheems]

UlquiHime 🖤❄️

🗣️These two were my Roman Empire during my bleach phase🗣️, punching the air rn bc they could’ve had it all😭😭💀Orihime’s biggest fumble deadass. Ik my boi had a lot going on but she could’ve fixed him if she tried hard enough 😤😔😢🥺 I still have another doodle sketch of them and maybe I’ll post it later but meh.

I also had his horns in the initial sketches but if I made them to size they would be tearing Orihime’s head and this angle is a bit wack so I’d have to position them weirdly if I kept them. I think I’m gonna main my soft brushes for now bc for some reason my works come out better with them. Hard brushes are also rly hard for me to work and have me making multiple sketch layers for hours in order to get the linework coherent enough.

[kryte-col]

A Crowd of Thousands but Cody is Anastasia and Obi-wan is Dimitri.

Cody, a part of the Royal family. Renowned for his intellect, progeny in strategic warfare and burgeoning combat skills. A straight faced confident but kind man.

Obi-wan, a servant boy. Sly and witty with a knack for negotiating himself out of situations he shouldn't be in.

The dynamic of Anastasia and Dimitri in the movie really gives old couple Codywan. They are so in love it's sickening but they bicker like a married couple <3

[julpernulper]

“they would find each other in any universe” but it’s just me and my unrelenting crush on davey from newsies and anyone who has or ever will play him.

[drowsybluesheep]