#why did i get so damaged to the point of no return

[pangwave]

.

[starkeysbaby]

When the turtle incident at the beach happens the reader gets hurt saving the turtle 🐢 and rafe snap. Everyone sees a different side of rafe

a/n: i LOVE this idea. - Unfortunately i feel like i didn’t do it justice 🥲🥲 but hope you enjoy!! <3

“if i ever see you round my girl again…”

pairings: s4 rafe cameron x kook but not kooky!reader [est. relationship]

warnings: S4 E4 SCENE DESCRIBED/USED (not sure if it’s really a spoiler tho as nothing plot wise is revealed) turtles being hurt, blood, death threat, canon rafe lol, use of swear words. (pls lemme know if i forgot any)

summary: you just wanted peace between everyone, unfortunately you and a turtle became collateral damage over a kook vs pogue contest. rafe is not happy…

navigation ⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅ obx masterlist

You were a kook? Well that’s what your bank account said. However, you were closer with the pogues and basically hung out with them or your boyfriend.. rafe cameron. that was the weird part. It had been awkward since the pogues all returned from El Dorado. You had sort of become the middle man in between rafe and the pogues including his sister, sarah. It was an unspoken rule between you and rafe that you just don’t talk about them with him which you respected. He’ll come around in his own time you thought.

When the swell came in, your boyfriend and his friends were eager to hit the beach and have a surf day to which you wouldn’t turn down. meeting up at tannyhill, you saw that topper had bought his new girlfriend, ruthie who you weren’t too keen on. You had mentioned this to rafe a while back but he said that it isn’t yours or his business to get involved with toppers love life and told you to just stay away from her if you didn’t like her to which you couldn’t argue.

Arriving at the beach you saw your friends, jj, john b, kiara and sarah and quickly told rafe that you were going over to say hi. Rafe just mumbled something as he set up his towel and told you not to be long as he stared daggers at sarah.

“hey!” you wave jogging up to the pogues, hugging sarah then kie. “what’s up y/nn (your nickname)” kie asked. “not much. just thought we’d hit the waves. i told them we should go a bit farther from here but they didn’t listen… sorry” you explained, knowing it’s best if the kooks and pogues don’t cross paths today. “you’re good. it’s them we don’t trust” jj butts in. “yeah, no. i’ll tell them to lay off..” you smile then turn to sarah. “he’s trying. he’ll come around. i know it..” you tell her, referring to rafe. Sarah just shrugs, pretending as if not being on good terms with her brother isn’t bothering her. “wanna surf?” you smile and take sarah’s hand dragging her to the water as you both laugh.

After surfing with sarah and the pogues for a while, you had joined rafe on his towel and spent an hour or so just chilling with him. He showered you in attention and you did your best to ignore ruthies little comments about the pogues and how jj is a poor sport. At one point, rafe saw you side eye ruthie for shitting on the pogues again. “hey. don’t frown.” he mumbles turning your head to face him and pats your cheek. “i don’t get her problem rafe.” you sigh. “yeah it sucks, but cmon” “no. it’s unnecessary. they aren’t doing anything to her.” you tell him, referring to the pogues just minding their business apart from that tiny squabble with jj and topper in the ocean but topper didn’t seem to care too much so why does ruthie? “i told you, ignore her” rafe says a little sternly taking your hand in his, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “yeah yeah…” you smile as you peck him, letting it go as you didn’t want ruthie to ruin the day.

While you packed up, unknown to you and rafe, ruthie was convincing topper to just ride the truck over to the pogues to mess up their set up. You in the meantime went over to the pogues to say bye, only to find them saving a turtle hatch in which you started assisting with. The next thing you know, you see ruthie driving her truck at a high speed straight at you. While sarah and kie do their best to get the turtles out of the way in time, you stand in front waving your hands trying to get ruthies attention to stop her. “hey! hey!!! stop! there’s a hatch!” you call out but she doesn’t hear you. you can vaguely see topper yell at ruthie, probably to stop but she’s just laughing. kiara notices ruthie has no intention of stopping and quickly pulls you out the way.

Luckily no turtles were hurt at that point but you see ruthie circling around to go again. You stand up again, trying to stop her. Rafe has also noticed this and starts making his way over to get, in his words, your stupid ass out of the way. You realise ruthie yet again has no intention of stopping so you quickly go to pick up a turtle that was in the way but you get hit slightly by the truck, knocking you out.

“what the actual fuck?!” kiara yells rushing to you, she takes the turtles from you and calls for rafe who’s at your side in seconds. He looks up at a shocked, somewhat guilty looking ruthie. “what the fuck is your problem?” he spits “did you not see her fucking standing there telling you to stop!” he yells as he takes off his shirt to wrap around a bloody scrape on your knee from something in the sand. Overall you weren’t too badly hurt but might need some stitches. That was enough for rafe to see red though.

As sarah goes to fetch water to splash you awake, ruthie stutters “i.. i thought she’d get out the way. why would she just fucking stand the-” kie cuts her off “there was a turtle hatch! look what you did! she was tryna save this turtle” kie yells at her, showing her the hurt turtle to which ruthie turns her face away from. “why the fu-” rafe cuts himself off on questioning you to wake you up with the water sarah got. As you felt water being splashed on your face, you sit up. “what happened?” you groan. “y/n im so so sor-” ruthie starts to apologise but rafe cuts her off. “no. you shut the fuck up and stay away from my girl” rafe snaps causing topper to get involved. “hey now rafe-” but again rafe cuts him off. “control your bitch, top” he huffs shutting topper and everyone else up.

He lifts you up and walks towards his truck. “my head hurts..” you mumble. “i know baby.. gonna get you to the hospital aight” he gently whispers to you to which you just nod. With a final “don’t pull shit like that again” from rafe, he places you in the passengers seat before shutting the door and quickly going up to ruthie. “if i ever see you round my girl again… i’ll kill you” he murmurs up close to her face in a terrifyingly dangerous way. Apart from sarah and a few of the pogues, no one has ever seen rafe like that.. so scary.. so threatening… so murderous. Ruthie just nodded which was enough for rafe to leave the scene so he could take you to the hospital.

a/n: hope you enjoyed - kinda struggled to find a way to set the dynamic where reader is dating rafe but close to the pogues at this point in the show cuz i couldn’t see rafes defending someone so furiously unless he was dating her 😭

requests are open!! enjoy lovelies - liv <33

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).

no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.

cw: Sukuna being a menace

Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.

He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.

You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."

Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.

"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.

Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.

"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.

"Go, I got it."

You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.

"Thank you so much, I don't even-"

"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."

You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.

It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.

Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.

Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.

Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.

He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.

[keferon]

So I had ideas for Mecha Pilot AU while reading some of the things that other people have sent and those ideas turned into this!

Enjoy some Hot Rod shenanigans!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It starts when Hot Rod catches First Aid trying to smuggle a metal sheet out of the base. 

Well, no, it really started when the higher ups said that Jazz, allegedly, stole a half put together experimental mech unit. Which, Hot Rod would like to point out, makes absolutely no sense. Jazz is smart. If he was going to steal a mech, he’d wait until it was completely built and fully functional. No, there was something else going on and it had something to do with those strange upgrades that a few of the mechs got. Jazz had taken one look at them and booked it. 

Then immediately stole a half made mech that was completely covered in the stuff. 

All of this happening after he had been gone for months before mysteriously returning. 

Point is there’s something going on and it started with Jazz.

Presently, it has something to do with First Aid and the hunk of metal he’s carting around. 

The hunk of metal that looks like that strange upgraded plating. 

“Sooo…” Hot Rod says as he looks the other pilot over, “We stealing now?”

“No, I- this is- Vortex is up next for the-.”

“Nah man, you’re fine.” Hot Rod walks over to the back of the cart and places a hand on the metal. “I’m game for whatever we’re doing, I just want to know if we need to be sneaky.”

“It- what? We?”

“Yeah.” Hot Rod smiles and tilts his head to the side, like this was a given. “So, we stealing?”

First Aid gives him a look that’s a cross between befuddlement and scrutiny. It’s one he gets often, but the newer pilot seems well practiced with it. A solid eight out of ten honestly.

“This isn’t for profit.” First Aid says slowly. “And this isn’t for me.”

Hot Rod’s smile takes a slightly more feral edge. “Even better.”

_._._

Apparently Jazz has an alien robot boyfriend and the higher ups were using parts of his body for upgrades. 

Very morbid, but sadly not surprising.

They need to get as much of the original frame as possible back to Ratchet as that would make repairs easier. 

They’ve apparently been getting a lot of the pieces that had already been on other mechs through “collateral damage”.

First Aid had shrugged, “It’s not my fault if an upgraded mech gets between Vortex and a monster.”

The real tricky bits to get were the ones still on base and being tested. Which, for some reason, included an entire oversized thumb.

An oversized thumb he and First Aid are trying to sneak out from under Shockwave’s nose. 

“The rest of the hand was in random parts of the base.” Hot Rod mutters. “Why did the thumb need to be in such a secure area?”

“Complain louder. I don’t think the bugs heard you.” First Aid sasses in a hissed whisper. 

Hot Rod shivers at the reminder of Shockwave’s “helpers”. Knee high robots with four legs and a hexagonal face. They would’ve been cute had their singular yellow eye not reminded him of the eerie visage that is now the scientist's face. Shockwave used them to help in his work but to also keep an eye on his lab and the surrounding hallways. 

“Don’t even go there, Aid. You’ll end up jinxing-.”

His warning is interrupted by a faint skittering from around the next corner. 

“Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.” Hot Rod looks around frantically before shoving himself, First Aid, and the thumb into the nearest door.

It turns out to be a closet. What kind of closet? Hot Rod doesn’t know and he refuses to find out. While it could be a normal supply closet, he’s not taking the chance that it could also be storage for strange and dubiously ethical experiments. 

So Hot Rod crams himself into the small space while keeping his eyes entirely focused on the door as he closes it. He and First Aid hold their breaths as the skittering of the bug gets louder, comes right in front of their hiding spot, then continues on without pause. 

They both let out sighs of relief and Hot Rod sets his forehead on the door. 

First Aid makes an inquiring hum. “There’s a vent in here. Think the thumb would fit?”

“Oh no.” Hot Rod says, face still against the door. “Do you have any idea how loud that would be? We aren’t dragging a large metal thumb through the metal vents and destroying our hearing with the echoing screeches.”

“Well, what do you propose we do then? Take it out the front door?”

_._._

“That never should have worked.” 

“You should never underestimate the power of looking like you know what you’re doing while carrying a box.”

“That never should have worked.”

Said large and long box holding the alien robot thumb sat innocently in the back seat of Hot Rod’s truck. 

_._._

“We need a movie for Rachet and Drift.”

Ratchet, who is helping Jazz repair Prowl, gives Hot Rod that “befuddled and scrutinizing” look that everyone seems to give him (A definite ten out of ten for Ratchet; truly a professional in giving out looks to others). “What?”

“Well, yeah! We’ve got Ratatouille for Jazz and Prowl. Aid and Vortex got a reverse Ratatouille-.”

“How’d you hear about that?” First Aid demands.

“Tailgate.” Hot Rod answers easily, then turns back to Ratchet to continue his previous thought. “So now we need to think of a movie for you and Drift!”

Ratchet’s eyes narrow in the unspoken promise of bad things to come. “No.”

Hot Rod, being the one who got a mech that catches on fire and made it work, takes Ratchet’s look as a challenge. He snaps his finger and points at the older man “I got it! ‘The Iron Giant’.”

Ratchet scoffs, rolls his eyes, and gets back to working in the alien robot’s arm. 

“What?” Jazz protests, while keeping his main focus on the internals of Prowl’s arm, “Iron Giant? Really? That’s a loose connection at best and you know it.”

“Oh? And do you have something better?” Hot Rod playfully challenges. 

“Dude, ‘Lilo and Stitch’ is right there.”

“How is that any better than mine?”

“Because War Crimes McGee here,” Jazz gestures to an amused looking Drift before getting back to his work, “is a better fit for Stitch than the Iron Giant any day of the week.”

Jazz may have a point, but while Hot Rod’s mom may have raised a fool, she definitely didn’t raise a quitter. 

“So Ratchet here tells Drift all about ohana and kicks off his character arc?”

“Not everything's one to one, Roddy. I’m not using Prowl to become the best chef is Paris. You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

“I agree with Jazz.” First Aid cuts in. 

Hot Rod gives him a mock glare. “You’re just saying that so you won’t have to agree with me.”

First Aid shrugs. “True, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

“Children. The lot of you.” Ratchet grumbles. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

And yeah! Ideas was mostly ‘Hey, they could probably have Vortex get pieces of Prowl back since fights like that are bound to be very chaotic and Vortex would have no hang ups about attacking allies every now and then’

It went further as the idea of Hot Rod and First Aid trying to do spy things and be sneaky but somehow succeeding due to Shenanigans was too funny to pass up XD

Loving this AU so far and all the cool stuff people are making for it!

OMG THE CHILDREN ARE STEALING FROM THE BIG CORPORATION IM SO PROUD OF THEM~~

Also the way all these different plot lines are crossing each other and occasionally coming together is just so cool I love it

Like, yeah we have fucked up horror, we have space drama, we have Lilo and Stitch aaaaand we have option to combine them together. Also now there is Shockwave so all the guys have the "free angst" option I gues ahahah

[fishbonex]

I hope she never leaves me, please, God, you must believe me

Caitvi x fem!reader

Summary: Even though the world was ending, Caitlyn and Vi's concern for you was above all else.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: mention of headaches, reader doesn't like physical contact that much (only caitvi can), mention of blood, mention of violence, poly.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Your head throbbing was the first thing you felt when you opened your eyes, followed by dizziness and blurred vision. Letting out a groan of pain, you looked at the thing that had woken you up: the door to your laboratory was open, the warm yellow light coming from outside made you see who had opened it.

The shadows of the two figures entering with hesitant steps were unmistakable. Caitlyn and Vi turned their heads in almost every direction, looking for you, apparently. You rolled your eyes.

Jayce. That nosy gossip. He was always the one behind every intrusive visit Caitlyn made to your lab.

Standing up silently, you stretched your back and walked towards them with a frown on your face.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice hoarse with sleep, watching them turn their heads towards you quickly. Vi raised her gauntlets defensively before her expression softened as she looked at you.

Caitlyn sighed in relief, walking towards you in precise steps and pressed you against her tightly, burying her pointed nose in your neck. You groaned uncomfortably and didn't return the hug. As always.

"Why did you disappear? Look at you, you look so tired." she pulled away but continued to hold you in her arms. "Why is it so dark in here?"

"I work better this way." you shrugged, then turned your gaze to Vi, who was just staring at the two of you. "Why are you wearing gauntlets? Did you come to arrest me? I haven't committed any crime."

"Negligence is a crime, in a way." Caitlyn's firm voice replied and she squeezed your arms lightly. "Are you asleep? It seems like you're not."

"I sleep all the time." you pulled away from her arms and walked back to your workbench. "Why are you acting like I died? I'm here all the time, you know that."

"Jayce told us he hadn't seen you in almost a week. We went to your apartment and you weren't there either." Vi deactivated her gauntlets, which fell to the floor with a loud thud, and walked over to you with an irritated expression on her face. "Do you know how worried you made us?"

"Did you pay attention to what you just said? It took you more than a week to realize I was gone." you joked and let out a mocking sound, which was not well received by the duo, who continued with serious faces. "I'm fine, don't be dramatic."

"You think it's funny? You're going to get killed." Caitlyn crossed her arms.

"Then it would take you another week to realize it." you scoffed.

"It's not funny! Don't you realize we're only concerned about your health?" she took a few steps closer. "Go home and take a shower and rest. Your commander's orders."

Before you could give another sarcastic retort, Vi's strong arms wrapped around you in a warm hug, she brought one of her hands to the back of your head and placed her face on your shoulder. You looked up at Caitlyn in a silent plea for help, but she just smiled tenderly.

You raised a hand and patted Vi's back uncomfortably, but she only squeezed you tighter.

"I'll only let you go if you come with us." Her voice was muffled against your shoulder.

"Okay, okay. I'll go." you grumbled, pushing her lightly. "Let go of me."

She let go of you and smiled big, earning an eye roll from you.

Caitlyn had demanded that you recover at the Kiramman mansion, of course. You hadn't gotten out of bed in a few days.

The civil war in Piltover had left a lot of damage to the city and its people. One of those damages was the heavy bleeding you had from your head after being thrown to the ground with force, hitting your head hard on the concrete.

There wasn't as much blood anymore, but the headaches were terrible. But nothing was as bad as seeing Caitlyn without an eye.

She sat elegantly in the fancy upholstered chair beside his bed and reached out to stroke your arm. Vi came in soon after, leaning against the bed frame with a glass of drink in her hand.

"How are you?" Caitlyn leaned over and brought her hand to her face, sniffing lightly.

"How do I look?" you asked, straightening up to sit better against the fluffy pillows.

"Terrible." she replied with a slight smile.

"Well, at least I didn't lose any eyes." you replied jokingly.

"Damn, I thought the explosion had knocked that rebellious temper out of you." Vi took a sip of her drink.

"You love me just the way I am." you replied.

She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and placed the glass on the bedside table, leaned over Caitlyn's chair and kissed her gently. Then she walked past her and sat down next to you on the bed.

"You're right." She searched your eyes for approval and when she found it, she brought her lips to yours.

But you turned your face away and grimaced, "Vi, that's gross. It tastes like alcohol!"

Caitlyn let out a loud laugh and climbed onto the bed as well, lightly pushing Vi, who had a shocked expression on her face. "Mine don't taste like alcohol."

[zhukzucraft]

=> Joel: Do what must be done

You are doing what must be done when you are very rudely interrupted by a short shouty man,

Bdubs: Hey. HEY!!! Stop that. What do you have against horses anyways! They are beautiful creatures… and don’t even drop anything worthwhile - just leather!!! You wanna' know where else you can get leather?! Cows! They drop beef too!!! All horses drop is sadness and a pained death scream…

The horse you were punching lets out it’s final neigh in a melodious cadence,

Bdubs: See?!

Joel: Music to my ears-

Bdubs: Don’t tell me you enjoy that sound?! No sane person enjoys that sound!!! It’s horrible… like you. You’re horrible.

Joel: Well, would you look at that, it dropped a leather. Don’t you need three of these to craft a saddle? 

Bdubs: ...maybe

Joel: Do you want it so you can make one and ride a horse in the SINGULAR DIRECTION that isn't immediately blocked off by blummin' water!?

Bdubs: ...

Bdubs: ...I don’t want your dirty horse leather!!! I refuse - on moral principle!

Joel: Fair, you need all the high ground you can get-

Bdubs: ARE YOU MAKIN’ FUN OF ME?!?! You’re shorter than I am.

Joel: Only if you count the hair, lad. It constitutes at least a third of your height.

Bdubs proceeds to make some kind of unintelligible grumble and starts punching the two cows you saw earlier, looks like he does want leather after all. 

As for you, while you would love to finish off the job you started, Bdubs did raise one good point: horses don’t drop food… begrudgingly you pause your equestrian extermination in favor of sheep slaughter.

However you don’t get that far on mutton mutilation before your communicator goes off a ton of times. You keep getting interrupted…

docm77: To whoever my soulmate is: You are about to take about 5 hearts of damage. docm77: Return to spawn. docm77: We need to talk.

As Doc’s message goes off you lock eyes with Bdubs’ uncomfortably large ones. Those things are uncanny... Well, it looks like neither of you are paired with the cyborg goat man.

But since you two were so close to where he fell you decide to check up on (read: tease) one of the servers newest members after he made such a ruckus in chat.

It turns out his soulmate was right there at spawn, and it just happened to be the other newbie. What are the odds of that?

Bdubs: Pssht, what amateurs. Don't they know it's traditional to check soulmates with the ol' fashioned punch test?

Joel: Punch test?

Bdubs: Yep. Like this-

Joel: What was that for?!

Bdubs: I told you, a punch test. 

Joel: That’s not what I meant! Why so many times!?

Bdubs: I had to be extra sure that I wasn’t soulbound with horse punching' scum like you.

Joel: …

Bdubs: HEY, OW! EXCUUUSE YOU!!!

Joel: Sorry, double checking... I had to make extra sure I wasn’t soulbound with a stupid horse lover like you.

Bdubs: …yooouuu-

Joel: at least now we definitely know we aren’t linked, 

Bdubs: For goodness sakes. If I was linked with you, I might’ve just ended my series right then and there!

Joel: Just to take me out with you!? You are an idiot. 

Bdubs: To save myself from suffering. Not everything is about you! 

Joel: Yes it is.

Bdubs: No it isn’t.

Joel: Yes it is.

Bdubs: No it isn’t!!! And to prove that, I’ll stop talking to you!

=====>

Start Over -- Go Back

[itgetzweird08]

can i have this dance? k. bakugo x gn!reader

one two three

“Mmm I like the black jacket more”

Katsuki hums softly at your answer as he holds the suit jacket up to his chest. He scoffs, tossing it haphazardly on the bed before flopping down on top of it. He held his phone above his face at arm's length, staring at your face through the screen as you ate your cereal. “This is fucking stupid” he complains softly and you giggle as he moans and groans, chewing your breakfast.

“It’s not stupid Kats, it’s a dance! And technically, it's your first high school dance. If you ask me it’s long overdue.”

That part was true. It was the first formal UA has hosted in the past three years. Usually, there was a dance twice a year: one during the Christmas festival and the other during the spring semester. It was exclusive to students and staff as everyone dressed to the nines and had a good time celebrating the holiday season and the loveliness of spring. Katsuki grew up hearing about it, and sort of looked forward to them. But due to the League and AFO, class 3-A never got to experience one. Until now.

Japan was slowly returning to normal after the events of the war a year prior, and to celebrate the students after all of their hard work and sacrifices, Nezu had finally cleared the spring formal to take place just a few months before graduation. When the class got the news, they were thrilled and even Katsuki had to admit that he was the tiniest bit excited. That was until Mina mentioned that they were all gonna have to find dates- then his balloon popped. He only wanted one person to be his date at any event, and that was you. Unfortunately, you were halfway across the world. This is why as you sat at your breakfast nook munching on Frosted Flakes, Bakugo laid on his comforter in his pajamas in preparation for bed. You called each other almost every day and when one of the first things he told you was the news about the dance, you begged to see his suit options. That’s what led you here, keeping him up two hours past his bedtime as he gave you a little fashion show. But he didn’t mind. He would explode the planet to make you smile, and he valued your opinion. He just wished you were there to give it in person.

“Yeah I guess,” he huffed and sat up, putting his suit back in his closet, turning off his ceiling light, and getting beneath his comforter. “I just don’t see the fucking point in going.” You raised an eyebrow at him and frowned. You knew he was excited, you could tell because of how fast he told you the news when you called. But now he seemed disappointed. “Why not?” You pried softly, trying to get to the root of the problem as he pouted. His room was dark, so you couldn’t see his entire face, but you could hear in the way he spoke that his bottom lip was slightly jutted out in disappointment. “Raccoon eyes was talking about everyone getting dates and shit…and you aren’t here.”

Your heart broke a little and your eyes stung a bit. He wasn’t upset that he had to go to the dance..he was upset that you wouldn’t be there to accompany him. “Oh baby…I’m so sorry” you whispered. All he did was shrug and grumble to himself, which is what he did when he didn’t want to outright tell you he was sad. “You know I would love to be your date Katsuki…I wouldn’t want to be anything more. But I can’t..we both know that.”

While Japan was making leaps and bounds in its recovery, its reputation in the eyes of other countries was still extremely damaged. After the death of Star and Stripe, all travel to Japan was halted indefinitely in your country. Not to mention, due to the aftermath of America’s number one’s death, as a hero student, you had to fight against the villains that tried to take advantage of the gap she left behind. Between the travel ban and your responsibilities, not to mention general travel costs, there was no possible chance you would be able to accompany Katsuki.

“Yeah, I know…just wish I could dance with you, that’s all. Wanna see you all dressed up and shit.”

All you could do was smile sadly at the camera and muster as much hope as you could for the both of you. “Maybe one day…especially since we’re both graduating soon.”

It was silent for a moment, both of you sitting in your own disappointment. You glanced at the clock, seeing the time and knowing that it was way past the time Katsuki usually slept, so he must be exhausted. But before you let him go, you just had to ask.

"Kats...can you even dance?"

His face filled the screen, eyebrows pulled together in offense. "HUH? What the fuck are you talking about?" You couldn't help but smile at him, and the heaviness of the prior conversation lifted off both of your shoulders. "I'm just asking!" " Of course I can dance! The fuck do you take me for??" "Okay prove it!"

Before he could respond, Katsuki yawned and you took that as your cue. You gave him a warm smile, depsite the fact that he was still glaring at you. " You can show me your moves tommorrow-" " m'not showing you shit-' "Tomorrow! I want to see what you got! Now go to bed, I'll text you later. Love you!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. But seeing how goofy and happy you were made him smile slightly. " Love you too. Talk later."

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[bitchimasnake-sss]

from me to you ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: anon asked me to write angst :) 32 year zoro had lost you two years ago. but when he finds himself back in time, face to face with a 22 year old and and alive you, what will he do?

warnings: none, just some good ole angst; not proofread at all :/

"how did you get that scar then?" chopper asked, tracing another deep scar on the older man's shoulder.

"i was fighting a warlord." the older zoro shrugged, finding comfort in the way the young reindeer marvelled at his story.

"did you win then?" ussop asked next.

the younger version of the swordsman cut in, "ofcourse he did. he's me."

"not to credit you," the older version bickered, "but yes ofcourse, i did win."

"what do you mean 'not to credit you'. i am the reason you even got to that point-"

"yes but you didn't fight the warlord, i did."

"I AM YOU-"

"oh my god, stop bickering with yourself" nami groaned, "when will the rest be back? im growing so tired of looking after you children."

"i am a decade older than you." the older swordsman answered back.

the rest of the crew was out exploring the port town where the sunny was docked. it was about to be sun-down and the two zoros, nami, ussop and chopper waited for the others to return back.

hours passed and the older man had found himself walking around the ship, reminiscing in the old times. somehow, for someone as much of a shitty memory as him, he could recall every stain, every dent. he could recall every place ussop fucked up or luffy damaged or you-

you. you. you.

and now he could hear footsteps on the deck. more importantly, he could hear you. so, his feet moved to their own accord. he navigated through the ship easily, muscle memory taking ahold of his body. taking him to the deck, taking him to you.

the older swordsman stepped out onto the happening deck and there you were.

you - along with the rest of the crew - turned your attention to the green-haired man that had materialized on the deck. and then, the entire crew erupted into chaos. the younger version of luffy comically looked from one zoro to another, sanji stood with his mouth wide apart and robin looked slightly alarmed.

but none of that mattered.

none of them were you.

the twenty-two year old version of you was looking at the older man, mildly amused. you giggled and then poked nami, saying something along the lines of "he looks like a dilf" or something. but the older man didn't care, or more so he couldn't.

it was night yet he could point out every wayward freckle across your cheek. you shivered and he held back from giving you his kimono. you walked over to his younger version and that green-haired boy pressed a kiss to your forehead the same way he wanted to.

you were there.

in flesh and blood, you were there.

and maybe that's why he turned his back on you and walked into that old cabin of his. maybe that's why he locked the door and slumped against the wood with a heavy sigh. maybe that's why he covered his eyes with his palm and tried to blink the tears away.

you were gone. you had been, for the past two years. and he had learnt to live with that absence. learnt to swallow down any memories of you that came creeping up like bile. learnt to only smile in his dreams when he saw you again.

shouldn't he be happy he saw you again? shouldn't he be glad you smiled at him again? he should be, right?

then why wasn't he? why did it hurt him more to see you laughing that it did when he saw your cold corpse?

"uhm-" your voice called from outside, unsure, "zo- zoro? are you in there?"

he pressed his palm flatter against his eyes and sighed, "i'll be out in a minute, please wait"

"are you okay?" you asked softly and when he didn't reply, you asked again, "can i come in?"

wordlessly, he turned around and opened the door. and wordlessly, you crashed against him, hugging the older man.

letting go of whatever restraints he had, he held you against him tightly. he closed his eyes, relishing in the way your warmth felt against him, the way your cheek was resting against his chest, the way your tresses tickled his skin.

"you looked like you could use a hug." you mumbled against him, "it must be insane, to go through this time travel thing right?"

but the older man just pursed his lips tighter, trying to hold onto the love of his life as long as he could. he tried to fight off the welling tears as you let go of him and looked up at him.

"you smell nice. looks like you're actualy showering huh?" you laughed, "and i can't believe you got even more tall. i look like a child in front of you!"

zoro smiled despite himself, "hate to break it to ya, but you stay this size your entire life."

"what?! no!" you laughed again in disbelief, "really??"

he just nodded and you hit his chest playfully. then you said, "well i have so many questions for you. should i ask? please please pl-"

"anything for you." he replied mindlessly.

"look at you, such a romantic. your younger version could learn a thing or two." you paused, "my future version must be really happy with you, huh- wait, we're still together right?"

zoro was silenced. then, he put on a smile, "yeah, we are. and i guess she's pretty happy."

"are you?"

it was a simple question and yet, zoro felt like his being was set ablaze by just those two words. though his mouth felt like it was full of tar, he managed to say, "yeah, more or less"

you cocked an eyebrow, "you know you're a terrible liar."

"i-" he gave you a tired smile, "things have just been hard for the past few years, that's all."

"oh," you gave him a nudge, "but as long you've got me, things will be okay, yeah?"

he scoffed, as if rejecting your suggestion. you met the older man's gaze with confusion, as if asking him if you said something wrong.

his eyes softened, voice barely audible. he asked you, "and what if i lost you?"

"dumbass, you can never lose me. i'm with you, always."

"what if?"

"then..." you pondered for a second. finally, you raised your wrist to the green-haired swordsman's eyelevel. the silver charm bracelet shone dimly in the lit room. you shook your wrist and the soft melody of the charms filled the room, "you can keep this, to remember me."

zoro's gaze was transfixed on the charm bracelet, his eye catching each miniscule metallic movement, "you- you lost this bracelet."

"i did?" you tilted your head.

"i mean- in a couple years you will. we had docked on a summer island and you lost it while exploring the town."

you watched the way the man stared at your wrists and you made your decision, "take it."

"but it's your favourite jewelry-"

"well, if i'm gonna lose it anyways-" you took off the bracelet with little trouble, "then i think you should keep it."

you gave him another smile, delicately placing the dainty bracelet in his calloused palm, "maybe you can give it back to my future self when you're back in the present. i am sure she'd like the surprise of having it back."

before zoro could protest, his younger version barged into the cabin. the younger boy hissed at the older man, "give me back my girlfriend, oldy."

the older man didn't ignore the way you laughed. you took languid steps to reach the younger boy and then you melted in his arm as you laughed.

he loved you then, he loved you now. he knows he would love you beyond this.

and that's all that matters.

roronoa zoro, aged 32, had disappeared for three days. he refused to tell anyone where he had gone. but when he returned, he sported a new chain round his neck with old charms. nobody on the crew bought the chain up, they didn't need to.

because for the first time in two years, the swordsman could crack open a smile when he greeted them.

and that's all that mattered.

💗a/n: definitely gonna be posting sanji's part as soon as im done with it! sanji's part

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

Steve keeps dropping his heart.

Somewhere buried deep inside him there's an edge of terror that he's going to damage it even worse - but it also makes a muffled schloop sound every time it hits the ground that is, objectively, the funniest sound he's heard all night.

Robin thinks so too, because she keeps giggling every time it happens - first these tiny little snorts, then somewhat hysterical giggles, then a full on bark of laughter, and then he's dropping it again because he's laughing, too, and she's so cute, how is he supposed to not be a little in love with her?

Dustin and Erica don't seem to find it that funny, though.

"Oh my God, Steve, put your heart in your chest!" Dustin hisses at him the next time they have to slow down to wait for him to scoop it back up.

The very idea sends a chill through him, and he makes a face at Dustin.

"No!" he retorts.

"No? Are you serious? It took me weeks to get you comfortable taking it out around me and now you want to wave it around? No, that's not what I - stop that," Dustin scolds him.

Which is rude, considering Dustin is the one who told him to wave it around in the first place.

But maybe he also has a point, because Steve's grip on his heart slips on a downward wave and this time he doesn't so much drop it as toss it, sending it skittering over the floor.

"Oops," Steve says.

Robin bursts into a sharp bray of laughter.

He loves her so much.

Dustin's gone chasing after his heart, and he flinches when the kid picks it up, expecting it to hurt, to feel wrong the way it had when -

But no.

It feels nice.

"Huh," Steve says, watching Dustin bring it back over.

"Why is it all wrapped up?" Erica asks, wrinkling her nose at it.

"So it doesn't explode," Steve replies, then giggles when Robin nods solemnly and mimes an explosion with her hands.

Dustin rolls his eyes, trying to shove it at him. "Put it away!"

Steve twists away. "Nooo," he protests. "I can't breathe."

Dustin's expression goes from frustrated to concerned so quickly it gives Steve whiplash. "Your ribs? Did they break something? Shit, Erica, can you-"

Erica's already at Steve's side, tugging up his uniform shirt and squinting at his ribs. "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Can't breathe with my heart inside," Steve clarifies, even though he's actually pretty sure he does have a broken rib or two. It doesn't hurt, so it's a way lower priority. "I hate it, it feels like it's trapped and hollow and alone."

Dustin and Erica look at each other. Steve doesn't think they look irritated, but he can't really tell.

"Steve," Dustin says softly. "Since when?"

"Since always," Steve replies.

There's silence in response, and he worries briefly that he's said the wrong thing. But then Dustin sighs and pops open his chest, nudging his own heart aside so he can drop Steve's next to it. He closes it up again before Steve's even managed to get a fully formed thought, let alone words, and -

His heart gives a little stutter, and it's weird to feel the emotion that causes it without feeling the corresponding pounding against his own chest.

Dustin apparently feels it, though, because he squints at Steve. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Steve returns.

“You felt something!” Dustin retorts.

“Wait, you can feel what I'm feeling?” Steve demands.

“Of course I can,” Dustin scoffs, like it should be obvious. “I have your heart, don't I?”

He looks over at Robin, to see if she knew that, too, but she's too busy snickering at something the light is doing in the fountain, and -

Oh.

Wow.

Okay, that's much better.

He feels so much better, and even when he's handed his heart again after he and Robin are deposited in the movie theater -

The feeling lingers.

—

In a too bright bathroom that smells like bleach and vomit, Robin holds out her hands for his heart.

“Let me see,” she insists, and Steve doesn't think twice about handing it over.

She might as well have just put her own heart in his hands, after what she just shared with him.

Still, he feels trepidation when she unwraps it, even more when she blanches at the sight of it. But -

“Hey,” Steve says, leaning in to look more closely at it. “It looks better.”

“Better?” she demands. “This is better?”

“I guess I should put it back in my chest if it makes it better,” he says reluctantly.

Robin frowns. “But it hasn't been in your chest. Just Dustin's.”

Wait.

That's right.

“I learned about this!” Steve snaps his fingers, trying to place it. “Science class. People survive things they shouldn't if they give away their hearts?”

Robin, bless her, either remembers it better or has figured out what he's trying to say. “Your heart heals better if someone's keeping it safe for you?”

There's barely a second before she's opening her own chest, taking out her heart and putting his in instead.

“Here,” she says, handing her heart to him almost carelessly. “Watch this for me.”

The moment it's settled in his chest, though, he can feel - how scared she is, how terrifying this all seems. The edges of it are still dulled by the drugs in both their systems, but it's there.

“I'm sorry,” he tells her quietly, guilt twisting from him to his heart in her chest.

“I'm not,” she replies, sharp and stubborn.

And the thing is -

She isn't.

—

The paramedics don't insist on keeping him.

Steve thinks they might, if they could hear his own heart, but it's Robin's heart beating strong and steady in his chest, so they assume that no matter how bad he looks, he must not be in any danger.

He doesn't know what his heart sounds like, but judging by the look on the guy checking over Robin - it's not good.

But she's physically unharmed, so they must assume it's more emotional damage than anything else. He and Robin are two halves, right now, but put them together and they make a somewhat stable whole.

God, he loves her.

She must pick up the echo of his love, because she looks up, meeting his gaze. Her smile is a little sad, and he feels a rush of affection so strong that it almost takes his breath away, even if it's a little bittersweet.

"It's not like that," he tells her, as soon as she and him can huddle together away from the paramedics.

She frowns at him, a clear prompt to continue.

"I don't know if I know how to love someone this much, if it's not like that," he admits. "But I'm learning. I'm going to learn."

For Robin, he'll learn how to love someone so much he doesn't want to know what life is like without them, in a way that isn't romantic at all.

—

Robin comes home with him that night, their hearts still in each other's chests.

Steve almost can't bear the thought of taking his back at this point, and what he can pick up from Robin tells him she feels the same way.

There's a blinking light on the answering machine, and when he presses play, he smiles a little at hearing Eddie's voice.

“Hey, Steve, it's, uh, Eddie. Know I haven't stopped by in a while, but I saw the news tonight about the mall, and - can you just let me know you're okay? Okay. Yeah, okay, bye.”

He sounds a little like he's trying not to panic, and Steve feels himself go soft and fond.

“...huh,” Robin says, clearly getting an echo of what he's feeling. “Steve?”

Steve shrugs, a little helpless. “I don't know,” he admits.

She considers for a moment. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks.

“You don't have to know,” she tells him.

“Okay,” he agrees.

He calls Eddie back while she showers, propped up against the bathroom door with the cordless phone in his hand.

“Hey,” Steve says when Eddie picks up. “It's Steve. Sorry, I know it's late.”

“No!” Eddie rushes to say. “No, it's okay, I was up. I saw - are you okay?”

“I've been better,” Steve admits. “There was some explosions, some rubble from the building collapsing. I've got cracked ribs and a concussion.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “If you could stop getting beat up, it would really give my heart a break.”

Steve grins a little. “You worried about me? Thought it was my job to look out for you.”

He can't see him, but he's pretty sure Eddie's rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and who looks out for you, huh, asshole?”

Steve hums. “It's good to hear your voice. I missed you.”

Eddie's quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you want - do you need someone to come keep an eye on you, make sure you wake up every hour?”

He kind of wishes Eddie'd finished what he started to say, because yeah, he does want him, but that's not the question Eddie ended up asking.

“Robin's here,” Steve says. “She was caught in it, too, but she didn't get too injured. She's going to stay over tonight.”

There's a moment of silence.

“Right, of course,” Eddie mutters.

“Can you come over tomorrow?” Steve finds himself asking without really thinking about it. Eddie's never been over - he's technically never hung out with Eddie outside of school or work - but shit, he wants it. “I think the drugs'll be out of my system by then, so I won't be too annoying. You can meet Robin.”

“You do know I've met her, right?”

Steve makes a tsk noise. “You've met Robin from band, just like she's met Eddie from the lunch tables. But you don't really know each other, not like I-”

He cuts off, because he's not really sure he has the right to say that. Does he really know either of them like that?

Whatever. If he doesn't, he wants to.

“You do better as part of a trio, huh?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Well, yeah,” Steve agrees. “But this is different, this is better.”

Eddie snorts. “Sure, you're not the third wheel anymore.”

“It's not that,” Steve protests. It feels important for him to get this right, though he's not sure why. “I don’t care about being a third wheel, it never bothered me. But Tommy and Carol… there were always conditions, with their friendship. The older we got, the more there were. And I love Nancy and Jonathan-”

His heart spasms. He can't feel it, but he feels the emotions, and Robin's heartbeat in his own chest kicks up. He mutes the phone, for a moment, knocks on the bathroom door. “I’m okay!” he calls through it, feels a wave of relief coming from her, and lets himself feel simple, uncomplicated affection.

“But things are complicated with them,” he continues after he unmutes the phone. “I think they always will be.”

“And what, I'm uncomplicated?” Eddie asks, but he sounds more amused than anything else.

“You're something,” Steve agrees, not bothering to try not to sound warm and fond.

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “I have band practice tomorrow,” he says. “But I'll call you sometime later, okay?”

No, that doesn't sound okay.

“Is this one of those things where you're not really asking me if it's okay, you're just saying it so it sounds better?” Steve asks. “What would you do if I said it wasn't okay? If I said I really wanted you to come over?”

Eddie's quiet again. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes,” Steve replies immediately, because he's had it saved up since Eddie didn't finish asking him it in the first place.

If his heart were in his own chest, he's pretty sure it would be thumping in anticipation.

“Not tonight,” Eddie says finally. “But I do want to be friends with you, okay? I'll call you.”

He hangs up after that, and Steve stares at the phone until Robin comes out of the bathroom and finds him like that.

She doesn't have to ask what happened - probably because she felt what happened - she just sits next to him a while.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 7

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally

[l0starl]

✦﹒𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝟒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ıllı

how your s/o shows their affection to you (not all have dialogue it's just Jing yuan)

SPOILERS FROM 2.5 AT JIAOQIU'S PART

a/n: its like 12:31 at night...if anythings wrong that's why.

₊ ⊹ ݁ Feat: Jing yuan, Jiaoqiu, Dan heng + honorable mentions

w/c in total: 571

JING YUAN

"Jing Yuan, I need to get going. I'm already late to the alchemy commissions!" You said urgency, but he didn't budge one bit! His hands were on your hip, his face nuzzled into your neck as he let out a content sigh. "Wouldn't you want to stay in my office with me and take the day off" He suggested a faux pout forming on his face as he spoke.

"I may not have people waiting for my services today, but you are a general. You have lots of work to catch up on don't you?" You raised a brow, and Jing Yuan only hummed in response, His eyes met yours briefly.

"10 more minutes..?" He suggested with his signature smile, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your waist, you were already late to work and you didn't want to be any later. But since you weren't technically needed, it wouldn't hurt to spend ten more minutes with him, right?

"Alright then, ten more minutes and I'm leaving, Got it?"

"Of course dear" He smiled, leaving a tender kiss on your cheek.

w/c: 181

JIAOQIU

After you found out Jiaoqiu lost his sight, you did everything you to help him, mentally, or physically. In the beginning, he claimed he was 'content' clearly not after all that traumatic stuff he went through

One thing that Jiaoqiu would do regularly is hold onto your hand, just to feel any form of contact with you, to know you're there right beside him.

Another thing he does is wrap his tail around you to feel closer while cuddling, when you're cooking something for him, doesn't matter.

He enjoys the sound of your voice, whether it is about work, cooking, or something you're passionate about, he can always hear the smile in your voice! It makes him feel more connected to you, just like old times.

There's not much both of you can do, but know that he appreciates you dearly and how you've been nursing him.

w/c : 147

DAN HENG

Dan Heng would mostly be affectionate with you when you both are alone whether it's just a simple kiss or lying his head on his shoulder.

At some point, you made two bracelets, one for you and one for him of course. And oh boy did he cherish it, he would always take it off very gently, careful not to stretch it too much or let anyone even touch it! earlier March 7th wanted to see it but he quickly moved his hand saying it was off limits

though it did break one day and he questioned if it was fixable or was the damage already done. You reassured him that you'd fix it and return it the next day to him. He may not show it in his expressions much but he loves you a lot.

w/c: 138

HONORABLE MENTIONS

AVENTURINE

Aventurine brought a promise ring for the two of you to match and show off, your's was a golden one, his was a purple one. You were his lover, so of course he's gonna spoil you rotten!

New clothes? of course, bags? you got it. Anything you want and he'll make it happen!

When you both went to casino's you were practically his lucky charm, while he played you sat down beside him watching, each game getting tenser than the last. every time he won he says 'it was all because of you of course'

One things for sure, you both make a great pair

w/c: 105

thanks for reading!!

[miguelhugger2099]

Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” 

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your  lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?�� “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper. 

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust.  Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

[bwat5-blog]

The Cost Of Humanity: The Price Caitlyn pays

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

The discourse around Caitlyn's fall from grace and eventual redemption continues to be all over the place. I honestly struggle to think of examples from recent media that can compare when talking about the complexity and humanity of her arc, yet people continue to paint her with their broad-stroke, virtue signaling generalizations. Things like this, are why I started doing this in the first place.

Because as much as I have come to love doing these deep dives, and these character analyses, and how I learn along the way and learn new insights from all of you, peoples determination in disrespecting such a masterfully crafted story that is so full of heart, and depth, offends me to my core. As I have said repeatedly throughout my posts like a grouchy nerdy broken record, GOOD STORIES MATTER.

This is not about ships, it is not about favorite characters, and it is not about your right to like, or dislike her character. If you feel questioned by this post, I am not questioning your opinion of a character, I am questioning your ability empathize and see the humanity in a twenty-four year old girl, who has had every pillar upon which she bases her perception of the world VIOLENTLY changed.

To that end, what I am discussing this evening is the cost of Caitlyn's mistakes regarding her assuming the role of Commander and what follows. This is not about how she redeems herself, although I have spoken on that and do feel they did a masterful job in achieving it. This is not a deep dive into her fall from grace, the causes, or rather or not I believe it was justified. This is solely to address the following tidbit of lunacy and all of its variations that are still floating around.

"So Caitlyn's arc is that she becomes a war criminal and gasses kids and goes full KKK and she gets to ride off into the sunset with Vi with the only consequence being an eye patch?"

Physical:

As the easiest of consequences to measure, let's take a look at the effects Caitlyn suffers to her body as a result of her mistakes. For this I will focus on the battle at the end of the show, although she is certainly wounded in various ways in the commune.

Maddie's Betrayal- We will speak more on this when I move to mental, but Maddie literally hits her in the head twice with a rifle stock. Concussions anyone? Skull Fractures?

Stabbed - Stabbed in the stomach with Ambessa's blade up to the hilt. Now I am not a doctor and freely admit that I know nothing about the severity in the wound in terms of placement. And in a world with shimmer healing and such things obviously we can't strictly hold to real world rules. But a simple google search suggested the following as possible long term complications of such a wound: " intestinal obstruction due to scar tissue adhesions, intra-abdominal abscesses, bowel perforation, delayed bleeding from damaged blood vessels, abdominal hernias, chronic pain"

Kicked- Kicked square in the midsection with a knife in her gut. Seems healthy

Head slammed into concrete- Ambessa using her skull-crusher legs sweeps Caitlyn off of her feet slamming her head into the ground (Please Note: Caitlyn is shown clearly struggling at this point tremendously to rise)

Kicked Again- Once again kicked in the midsection with a knife in her gut

Ankle- Ambessa pins Caitlyn's ankle to the ground by force and kicks her leg out from under her before backhanding her

Headbutt- After dazing her with the backhand, Ambessa full on headbutts her with her mask on

Kicked yet again- This time completely off of her feet

Loses her left eye- Her sacrifice to stop Ambessa.

Returning to the stab wound- She did all of this with the knife in her. Tearing and exacerbating that wound.

This was one fight. Don't mistake me, Caitlyn has become an absolute warrior as the show has gone on and is an amazing fighter. But she twenty four, and only a short time ago was still very much in her sheltered life. Ambessa Medarda is a LITERAL WARLORD.

Mental/Emotional:

**I'm sure there are things I'm going to leave off of this. But this is just what I am thinking of in the moment. This is NOT a bashing on her list. This is what I feel the kind and courageous woman we know she always been is going to have to work through in the aftermath.**

Violet- Thankfully she and Vi have found their way back to one another. And while I love their reuniting, I don't think its unfair to suggest there is still quite a bit of healing ahead of them. Vi was not without blame in what happened between them (not justifying what Cait did to her at all, just that neither of them are perfect and were going through a terrible time). But ultimately Caitlyn has to make peace with the fact that she left the woman she loves crying alone in that chamber, and that that heartbreak sent Vi into a spiral that very easily could have killed her. When you add to that the loss of Vander, Isha and Jinx in Vi's life these are all things a woman like Cait is going to struggle not to blame herself completely for.

Zaun- The early show does an excellent job establishing that Caitlyn does not share the classist and oppressive attitudes of others in her social circle. But at her most lost, she bears responsibility for the full military occupation of Zaun, imprisoning its citizens, and likely the death of more than a few at the hands of the Noxians who Caitlyn allowed to be there . And that is to say nothing of the actions of the strike team, or that it is Vi's home.

Maddie- The woman she invited into her bed to distract herself from the loss of Vi, came as close as someone could have to executing her right then and there. Someone she never realized was a spy, prepared to shoot her the back of the neck. I think the trauma here is obvious.

Death Toll- The deathtoll and destruction of the war are going to weigh on her. They just are. It is clearly not actually all her fault, But as I have stated, and as anyone who pays attention will have seen, Caitlyn IS A GOOD PERSON. Yes, I'm sorry, I know some of you want to pretend otherwise because you have the emotional depth of a teaspoon. But she is. And there is simply no way she does not feel the weight of the loss brought on in part by a woman she allowed to seize control.

Mental trauma from injuries- On top of the base physical component of her wounds, Caitlyn was quite nearly beaten to death. Speaking as someone who has been in a bad fight (nowhere near this obviously) it's not something you just forget. Not to mention the impact to her shooting which has been such a major part of her since she was younger.

I could go farther with all of this but you get the idea. Caitlyn is so.... so young. I and so many others have gone on at length detailing her arc, her grief, her trauma and all of the other components that make up this part of her story. I encourage you to read them if you are interested. This list of her suffering and of the suffering she will feel guilt for is not about what she does or does not deserve. As stated, that's not why I wrote this. I wrote this because as I stated in a much shorter look at this topic, you literally have to try to miss the consequences of Caitlyn's actions. You have to blind yourself in the name of being able to place whatever hashtag makes you feel righteous in condemning her character. If you want to say the reparations to Zaun were not fully addressed in the course of the show, okay I can give you that. But I would remind of you two things:

Caitlyn surrenders her family seat on the council to Sevika. For the first time as we understand it, the undercity now has a voice.

This show is not the end of the story. From the beginning Arcane has been our door into this universe, not out of it.

Listen folks, I'm not actually crazy. I understand it's a tv show. But as I have and will always continue to say, good stories matter. There is a reason fables and epics stretch back throughout our history as a species. Yes, of course for entertainment, yes of course to impart lessons or wisdom. But that belief that we can conquer our own darkness, that we can stand in the breach against those who would bring death to the innocent, and that can find redemption, these beliefs and many more have guided the best and worst parts of us for all time.

As always, thank you so much to any of you who take the time to read the rantings of a lunatic. I cannot express to you all the joy I have felt engaging in this community and celebrating this epic tale. I can't wait to see what they have for us next. Until next time, keep standing up for the stories that stay with us.

[thevoidstaredback]

Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.

He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.

Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!

Off topic.

Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.

The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?

More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.

***

Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.

That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.

"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.

"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."

"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."

"Funny, coming from you."

"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."

Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."

"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"

Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"

"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."

"Sorry."

"You better be."

"Hey!"

"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"

A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"

"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."

"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."

"You know you can't dodge them all forever."

"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."

A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"

"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."

"Then refuse to answer."

Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."

Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."

"What about Batman and his brood?"

"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."

"I can try,"

"But you'll fail."

Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."

Part 5 Part 7

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[bluerosefox]

Daughter of Phantom, Lady Gotham.

I love Lady Gotham stuff in the DCxDP stories, like a lot, so what if, hear me out (Long post is long, I rambled again)

Lady Gotham is Danny's daughter.

How? How about Danny is hurt (his parents? GIW? Vlad?), like badly, to the point even his core is damaged and the time needed to heal would take years, like a lot of years. Like it was bad that even his Rogues were shocked and shaken. They eventually get him to the Realms but are unsure what to do next. So they're scrambling trying to figure out how to save him.

So when CW appeared he asked to handed the Core because he knows what to do, where to hide him so he can heal they don't question it, everyone in the Realms know CW, the Ancient of Time itself, has a soft spot for Phantom. He opens a portal to a different world, not Danny's he can't run the risk of GIW finding him, to a just beginning world, the new world will help speed up his healing, and with Frostbite's help they set up a healing chamber deep, deep in the ground. Once they made sure everything is set up and safe, they place his core inside the healing pod and return every so often to check on him.

Over time though, above on the surface of that world it's timeline starts. Animals, creatures, humans, aliens, magic users, etc etc begin and with it, because even as a half healing core, Danny's power and ectoplasm starts effecting the area he's resting in (Ghost King Danny? Young/New Ancient/Eldritch Being? Or just an OP Danny?) (Clockwork and even Frostbite showing up every so often doesn't help either, it explains why Gotham is so cold sometimes or why time seems... off)

Anyways due to Danny's power (along with bits of Clockwork and Frostbite), magic of this world, and people beginning to build a small town on top of the land it gives birth to the namesake of the town.

GOTHAM.

CW foresaw her 'birth' and finds her sitting in front of Danny's healing pod. He always knew Gotham would eventually form, the belief/love her people have in her would had given her a form eventually he just wasn't expecting her to form so soon (this is why Danny remains his favorite person, he always did something CW never really see's to often) nor was he expecting her to become Danny's daughter. Gotham looks a bit like Danny, dark hair, blue eyes, pointed ears, sharp teeth, glowing star like freckles, but she also reflects her people, the ones that call Gotham home so her image shifts sometimes. But he can see small hints of maybe himself and Frostbite in the shifts.

She is 100% Danny's daughter via spirit/ectoplasm. If anything CW and Frostbite are like many times removed family members when it comes down to ectoplasm.

She's silent for a moment before she asks if "You and the other come here often to see him... The one sleeping is he my father?" Which CW does confirm, he explains why Danny is healing and who he and Frostbite are and why they show up to make sure he is doing better. How his healing will take many, many years. She goes silent again before saying "Teach me how to protect him. I am new and young compared to others... and yet I already know if anyone desires him for the power he gives, they will stop at nothing. He is my father and I am his daughter, I need to keep him safe just how I know he would keep me safe. This much I know."

CW agrees.

She learns, from her father's allies (CW, Frostbite, Pandora, etc etc) how to defend and fight. How to protect what she loves. She watches over her father and fights off demon's, monsters, sometimes an alien that senses the slumbering power, evil magic users. Etc. She watches over the town and people who named her as well, falls in love with the humans who call her home as well and defends them as well.

She even gets the blunt force of a curse a powerful old entity that tired to place it on her father after she had just banished it from her lands. It's an old powerful curse that CW or Frostbite can't rid of because it would weaken her far to much that they run the risk of her fading, the only way to get rid of it is if she had a family member feeding her ectoplasim to help sustain her. (Her aunts can't because Jazz isn't ghostly enough and Danielle can't because hers is limited due to being a clone (like she has enough for herself but does need to visit the Infinite Realms during her travels to get more ectoplasim to filter in and out). Danny is their only chance because he's constantly filtering ectoplasim in and out and even creating it because of how he died with a portal opening up at the same time)

The curse slowly starts eating away at Gotham, makes it hard for her to have a solid corporeal form because pain (when she has to use this form to fight off others she has to bare through the pain), her appearance starts changing (eyes turn from sharp ice blue to glowing yellow, skin turns deathly sickly pale, her star freckles slowly blinking in and out, hands become inked claws, her dark hair is unkempt and spills like an oil sludge down her body and face) and because Danny is still healing himself he can't help her and she can't see him all too often anymore because she doesn't want to run the risk of the curse effecting his healing core, she does get updates from the other ghosts that visit him and then her. She still defends him though, outside of his healing chambers should on the rare chance something finds it way down to him.

Eventually due to Danny's and Gotham's natural ectoplasim filtering on the lands, visiting and powerful ghosts, Gotham fighting off powerful beings trying to use her father for power, and the curse on Gotham herself, the town that had been built on the ground above by humans becomes the very city we all know.

Its a whole mixed bag do to so many factors, that's why Gotham is the way it is.

Gotham does her best to keep her people safe from well... everything but due to the curse and the fighting off another person/entity/demon/magic user/etc coming for her father's power, she can't always do much by the time one crisis is over and a new one pops up, she's slowly breaking down the longer it takes.

That's why she has a soft spot for her Dark Knight and his family and allies, they help her from the pain from the curse by trying as both the Wayne's and as the Batclan to fix up her city self, its not enough to really fix her fully but it helps with the pain that eats at her.

She does her best to give them tiny blessings though, but due to her duty of protecting her father she can't always do much (she wept when news of Jason, her second Robin, her rough around the edges bookworm, had died came to her. She couldn't protect him because he was out of her reach. Its why when Joker returned she made it very hard for him to really gain his foothold in her again but had to stop because CW told her if she kept making it too hard for the clown he'd go running off to 'play' with a different hero and that... that timeline would lead the world to ruin. She begrudgingly stopped but when Joker had taken her third Robin, her tiny Tim the one she loved watching shadow her knights, she did everything she could to keep him sane from the pain he had been put in, and lead Batman to the warehouse to save him. Also it turns out her heartbreak over Jason's death, her curse acting up, and her ectoplasim sparking off at the same time it helped bring him back from his grave not fully but somewhat, she was so shocked that she didn't have time to send hints to Bruce to get him when he was taken by Talia and once again out of her reach. She tried hinting it to Bruce that Talia had taken him but by the time he would check on the League, Talia would had moved him)

Gotham, depsite being young in the eyes of many other powerful beings and entities has held her own and kept those that wanted to use her father for power packing. Despite being cursed that is slowly eating her alive she still holds onto the hope her father will awaken and she will finally get to meet him. (She hopes she made him proud, he is a protector spirit core after all and she had been steadfast with keeping him safe all these years).

Things however take a turn for the worse when Gotham awakens from some sort of powerful slumber (she doesn't know what happened?! Did something knock her out?! When did she fall asleep?! Was it magic? Did the curse do it? Did someone or something-) And discovers someone or something had managed to steal her father slumbering core. (So close to healing, so close to awakening according to Frostbite, just a few more days he says. Just. A. Few. More. Days)

She tries to go find him but is suddenly hurting more, her curse has progressed even worse, she can barely stand, let alone fight whoever had her father. And she knows her father's friends won't be back to see her until far later.

And then all of Gotham shakes and shudders when her rage, panic, and terror are felt that early morning.

-×-×-

Deep in the Batcave, Batman and the others are searching for whatever caused that strange almost magical but not (ectoplasm) shudder that morning.

They were expecting a full scale attack. Magical, alien, maybe even all the Rogues in Gotham working together. An all scaled war. They were looking for any signs of it, maybe to by some miracle stop it before it becomes to late.

They however weren't expecting a strange sick looking woman with yellow glowing eyes, oil ink like hair covering her face and body, clawed hands like they had dipped in ink as well, star like freckles blinking in and out on her body and face, sharp ears, breathing heavily and coughing every so often to appear in the cave. Like she had sunk out from the shadows in pure silence. (Even Cass did not hear her)

Nor were they expecting her not to even flinch when they trained their weapons onto her. Instead all she did was laugh, a raspy low laugh, but it held warmth and mirth.

"Now, now my knights... No need for that. I come needing help and you are the only ones I will ever trust with this mission..." her voice was soft but harsh, talking seemed to hurt her though for she had to take deep breaths and suppress a cough. Her eyes trailed across them all, despite her sickly look her eyes gleamed with a motherly warmth in a strange sense, something all of them could feel "I can not hold this corporal form for long. Long story short I am cursed, have been for a very long time and whatever happened to me earlier this morning has aggravated it even more and thus I can not stay in the world of the 'living' to do much. My father, the one I have been protecting since my creation from all sorts of terrible and dangerous things, for should they get a hold of him it could spell the end of life itself for he is that powerful, has been taken from his healing chamber. I do not know who or where but I know he still remains in the city, that much I can sense."

She coughed and took a shuddering breath "But alas I can not go to his aid as I once has been able to, this is where you all come in. I need you to find my father, find his core. Bring him to safety. I had fought so many to keep him safe, to make sure he heals in peace for so long, and he... So close. Just a few more days he needed... then I could had finally had met him."

She lightly muttered those last few words, eyes looking lost for a moment before coughing hard.

"Who are you." Batman, Bruce Wayne, stonely demanded but for some reason he couldn't help but feel like he knows her, like from a foggy memory, and by the looks of his family they all could sense the same thing.

The woman, or whatever she was, merely smiled, sharp teeth bared in it as she looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Gotham, my dear Dark Knight. I am Lady Gotham herself. Its wonderful to finally meet you despite the circumstances."

[brucewaynehater101]

I’d love to see more of the Emotional Marks AU. I want to see the reveal and the Bats having the realization that just because they’re doing better /now/, it doesn’t fix the damage they did before. And that they can’t force things to heal. Healing takes time.

Post being mentioned is here

What I'm curious about is if it's a human only thing or if others (like Kyrptonians, Martians, Atlanteans, etc.) also get marks.

Anyways, here's some more stuff I thought of. As always, take as little or as much as you'd like of it ^^

Tim never takes off the object hiding his marks, even for himself. It's part habit and part desperation to never see how much his loved ones have actually hurt him.

He's unique in that he isn't sure where most of his marks come from. People usually see the marks within 24 hours of their appearance. Tim has gone years between seeing his own marked skin.

As I've stated before, the object works like glamor. Therefore, those with enough magic power would be able to see past it. This is part of why Tim wanted pants for the Robin uniform (any magicians working with Robin would see the moment they saw any of Tim's bare skin). Tim is very lucky the marks on his face only appeared a bit before he became Red Robin (and part of his reason for the cowl).

Marks typically stay away from the face. They only appear there if symbolically significant or if the marks are running out of space elsewhere on the body. Bart and Kon dying really did a number on Tim even though it wasn't their fault.

YJ and Dick have helped soothe some of the marks left behind by the Drakes (and Bruce too if you want good dad Bruce). Quite a bit have even fully disappeared due to them.

Tim still collected them like Halloween candy, though.

Major marks and their placement [though feel free to offer different ideas]:

Bruce calling Tim "Jason" - x on the back of neck

16th birthday - Major gash on right temple hidden by hair

Janet dying - splintering cracks along hand (bigger version of the one Janet fakes)

Jack coma then death - line in left calf then up to mid back of thigh

Bart dying - right side from under armpit to end of ribs gash

Kon dying - giant oval over sternum

Jason's TT attack - left foot/ankle cracks

Damian's attacks - stomach area

Losing Robin - largest slash diagonal across back (left shoulder to right hip)

There's more marks, but the ones on his face are caused by people not believing in him [this is not a "they should have" argument. It would have hurt regardless of what they should have done]

Hmm... So, the reveal? I'm thinking a magician. This would be after Tim switches back to just a mask and no cowl. His face marks would be on display for magicians but no one else. He, wrongly, assumed he'd be fine.

He's playing nice with the Bats at this point, even if he doesn't fully trust them. He loves them and wants to keep the peace. He'd never voluntarily show them his marks or tell them about it.

The Bats are being nicer under the idea that their assumptions about markless were incorrect. It weirds Tim out and usually has him ghosting them for a few days if they try to initiate feeling conversations with him. He kind of wishes they would just go back to normal.

It's a few months of this behavior before some magician makes a remark about Tim's facial marks. Something along the lines of, "You okay, Red? You're aware of how dangerous it is for marks to progress as far as the face, right?"

Cause what happens when there's no more room for marks? Drastic decrease in physical health. Could lead to death.

The Bats overhear and promptly freak the fuck out again.

Tim, who has been dealing with their bullshit for the last few months and doesn't want to deal with the confrontation, disappears. He's waiting for them to process their shit before returning [he loves them but does not want to be caught in that fucking whirlwind. Bats notoriously do not handle emotions well]