#this hero is sooooo tired

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Please write something with this when u have time?

“What are you doing in my house?”

The villain, draped across the windowsill, regarded the hero with a coy look, as if the answer was obvious. “You left your window open.”

“That’s usually not an invitation,” the hero replied. They had moved one too many times because of uninvited visitors and the hero had just gotten used to this apartment. Often, they felt like they couldn’t win, no matter what. They felt like a failure, someone who couldn’t even secure their own home.

“I’m not searching for a fight.” The villain stepped into the living room, studying everything before their eyes found the hero. All together, they seemed quite peaceful. Observant. “I’m here on, well, you would call it a mission, I suppose.”

“Not interested, sorry.” The hero was getting sick of missions. Bridges falling down, subways derailing, buildings collapsing. Heroes die alone, they always do, and even though the hero wasn’t loving their job, death was a tad too far.

Still, every single mistake they made would be printed and posted. Every failure would come right back at them with an intensity that chewed on their spirit. They didn’t have time for therapy, so they felt themselves turn into a bitter human being.

In all honesty, did the hero deserve this? Probably…it’s easy to point and laugh at someone, even just for a second, so thinking about one’s own personal failures can become bearable. The hero had power, the hero had responsibility. Who deserved more to be blamed for failure than the most powerful being in the city?

“I’m just here because our sidekicks are friends, okay?” the villain said. They weren’t in costume and the hero didn’t see any weapons. As a civilian they looked quite nice. “They told me where you live. They’re worried about you. ”

The hero looked up from the pan they were cleaning. A failing villain was a win for the city and a failing hero was a catastrophe.

Hadn’t they done enough? Hadn’t they worked hard enough? Hadn’t they saved enough people? When was it their turn to be satisfied?

“My sidekick doesn’t know where I live. Safety protocol,” the hero said. The villain’s ears turned red and they cleared their throat.

Their eyes were glued to the floor. A rather futile attempt to hide their lie.

“Okay, well…it’s still true. They’re worried about you. You’re overworking yourself. They said you’re in danger.”

“And you wanted to come and save me?” the hero asked. Their chuckle was as insincere as it could get. “How cool is that? I’m getting saved by the villain.”

Silence. Only the siren of an ambulance far away cut through it.

“I’m not a saviour,” the villain said finally. They walked towards the hero who was more or less done with cleaning the dishes. “The morality of it is…confusing to me.”

“It’s quite simple, actually. All of it is a trolley problem and no matter what you do or how many people you save, people will prattle and hate and blame you,” the hero sneered, letting their sponge fall into the dirty dishwater. At the end of the day, not doing anything might be better.

“Maybe you need a vacation.”

“Vacation? You’re funny.” The hero laughed humourlessly yet again. They hadn’t been on vacation for what? Five years now? Having the luxury of a vacation was an insane thought.

Sometimes they thought this decadence of their character made them unendurable enough to turn themselves into a villain.

“It’s okay to find out that your dream sucks,” the villain said softly. They were hesitant as they put a hand on the hero’s shoulder. “It’s okay to find out that what you’ve always wanted isn’t what you expected and that it’s not the right thing for you.”

The hero didn’t find that so funny. They looked up at their enemy, the person they had sworn to fight and hate.

“It’s okay to be dissatisfied and tired. It’s okay to hate what you’re doing. It’s not okay to hold onto that, though.”

“I have a responsibility.”

“Yes,” the villain said. “The responsibility to take care of yourself. You’re falling apart and I am not a saviour. I can’t save you from yourself. I can only challenge you to do better. So, do better. Be better and start taking care of yourself instead of everyone else.”

The hero had the tiny suspicion that the villain wasn’t doing this for their sidekick’s sake.

@avvail thank you for the prompt hihi

[chiquilines]

Now hear me out:

Have a lovely day/night

You are so absolutely correct have Them

[thegirlsarethriving]

just finished undertale. ok i see the vision. i now understand yall's Sans-to-Benrey obsession pipeline. and the Papyrus-to-Tommy Coolatta pipeline

[hella1975]

LADY NAGANT!!!!!!

[homoerotictext]

the "tortured poet's department" is actually already ran by high schoolers who are afraid to admit they're trannies, sorry girly you have to change it

[thatonefatgumsimp]

ok so two things. First of all, guess who got distracted again on two different projects/art pieces that aren't mermay instead of doing the mermay prompts?

... slowly raises hand

I'll get back to it eventually, I promise 😭😅

Also, if you're a real human and I accidentally block you, sorry, there's just so many bots with real people as their pfps and nothing on their blog so at this point I've just learned to assume everyone with a human pfp that has an empty blog who randomly follows me or messages me is a bot.

Anime/fandom/random object pfps ftw

[astrxealis]

'if you ever tire of this charade...'

[headkiss]

I LOVE YOUR HOTCH FICS!!! <3 You write him so well, and I just adore how soft he is 🥺! I've read a fic where the author basically describes him as a Jane Austen hero, and I can't help but agree (what are you thoughts?)! Sooooo, is it possible to get a fic where Hotch reads to sick!reader to help her sleep? TYSM!

omg ur so right he is very much jane austen coded!!! tysm for requesting i hope u like it!!! | 0.7k of fluff, sick reader and gentle hotch <3

Aaron’s job isn’t one that allows him to take much time off of work, even when he wants to. You know it, and would never be angry at him for it, so when you wake up feeling a little too warm, you reassure him that you’ll be fine by yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” He asks, already dressed in his suit and sitting on the edge of the bed by your waist. “I can if you want me to.”

Of course the only time he’d be eager to ask for a day off is when it’s in your favor. He doesn’t even call out when he’s the one who’s sick.

“No, you can’t, Aaron. They need you over there,” you say, hoping your smile is convincing enough. “I’m just gonna sleep this off. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs, reluctant to leave even though he sort of has to, even though he knows you can take care of yourself. He just hates not being the one to do so, anyways.

Hotch leans over to press a kiss to your heated cheek, “I’ll call you when I can to check in, okay?”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Let me do that, at least, sweetheart.”

“Okay.”

He kisses your cheek again and then stands to leave, pausing at the bedroom doorway to turn back and look at you one more time. You snake your hand out from under the sheets and give him a thumbs up.

Aaron calls you exactly five times throughout the day, most of them quick, couple-minute phone calls where he asks how you’re doing, if you’ve eaten. One of them during his lunch—which he rarely takes—and lasting nearly half an hour, him doing most of the talking.

The sun is close to setting by the time he gets home, where Aaron finds you curled up on the couch in the comforter from your bed, your skin clammy, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.

His heart aches a little bit at the sight, because he knows you’ve been downplaying how sick you feel all day to keep him from worrying, as if anything could.

Hotch walks over to the couch, crouching in front of where your head is propped up on a pillow. “Sweetheart.”

“Hi, Aaron.”

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at how warm you feel. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fever? You should be in bed.”

“Got too warm in there, then too cold out here, so I took the comforter. Hope that’s okay.”

The medicine you took hours ago hasn’t done much other than make you a little groggy, and it’s clear in the way you speak with your cheek still squished to the pillow, your eyelids heavy.

Aaron’s hand is still on your forehead, like he can will your fever away with his touch. “Have you slept? Are you hungry?”

You shake your head, “don’t really feel like eating.”

“You should,” he says. “How about I run you a bath and make you some soup? Then bed.”

“Okay, doctor Hotchner.”

He shakes his head, though the small smile on your face as you tease him makes him smile, too. Even feeling poorly, you manage to brighten his day. A ray of sunshine.

He does exactly as promised, and after a bath and a generous bowl of soup that Hotch made sure you finished, you’ve got your head in his lap, his hand gently pushing your hair back.

Looking down, Aaron finds you still awake, blinking up at him lazily. “Aren’t you tired?”

“It’s been hard to sleep,” you say, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Will you read to me?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Pick a book.”

You choose, and whine when he gets up to go get it even though he’s back in a matter of seconds. With your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh once again, he starts reading to you.

You’ve always loved Aaron’s voice, the way it sounds when he speaks to you, the low and calm tone that seems to wash over you. He’s using a gentle voice now, a quiet one that you love even more because it’s one he saves for you. Intimate and lovely.

It’s only with his hand in your hair and his voice in your ears that you’re finally able to fall asleep.

[white-poppie]

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎯⎯⎯ Part II of the '𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇' series

SYNOPSIS: In the bleakest times of your life, there kindled a little ember in you. Tsukiko, moon child, you were coping, one way or another. But dark clouds claw at the litte light of hope in your life as you come face to face with Suguru again.

TW: crying, teen-pregnancy, panic attacks, lactation, depression-like symptoms, post-partum, adoption,, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, big sad :(

A/N: Thank you for all the support to this series!! Ps! look out for the symbolism in objects, i used big brain power lol. Plus I am sooooo sorry for delaying this so much

NOTE: reader is in her last year so she'd be around 17-19 :) This big sad will build up to happiest happy in the last part so bear with me.

WC: 4k lmaooo

Series masterlist Pt1: 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Part 3 Now playing: Part 2

The child, a baby girl, lay giggling and cooing in your arms as you look down at her with warmth in your eyes. She's the spitting image of an angel with her wide and expressive eyes, her small nose, a sharp arch exactly like her father, pink flushed cheeks and a tuft of soft dark black hair on her head…She looks exactly like Suguru.

She is a talkative baby, her little pink lips opening and closing wit soft 'pops', thats quite literally talking, what even is the difference when you are holding a squishy 2 month old? Her hands and movements are disoriented, jerky, flailing her chubby little arms and legs without care.

Her tiny hand reaching up to grab at your strands of hair, her big eyes looking curiously at your hair, observing how it moves with her tiny wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart, let mama do shopping for you." you whisper to the tiny baby strapped to your chest as you go around picking the essentials

She looks up at your voice, her lips almost forming a little pout and you can't help but coo lightly at her cuteness. You resist the urge to snap another photo and send it to Shoko to which she would always reply with a boring thumbs up emoji, but you know well how she smiles after seeing her god-child.

"Let's see what we have... we got the diapers, baby oil, flour, we got the veggies and other stuff...ah pear, we should get some pears." you say to the baby. It was difficult to think singularly in singular pronouns, it was the two of you-- it was 'us', 'our' through and through.

You walk down to the fruit isle, looking for some pears. Eventually you find the last pack in the thin mesh. Your hands reach forward to grip it and so does another. Your heart ceases. There is no way you wouldn't recognise that hand. The faint tan under which lie a constellation of protruding green veins. Fingers with a naturally large nail bed, the skin around it slightly discoloured. Suguru. There was no doubt it was him, you didn't even need to look up or rather you didn't have the strength to.

You suddenly wanted to laugh. You felt like a tragic greek hero, comung across your beloved, a bit too late. Orpheus and Eurydice, Hyacinthus and Apollo. Achilles and Patroclus. But the real tragedy was, as the poets said, "I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

"Suguru..." You whisper out breathlessly as you finally dare and look him in the eye.

His name leaving your lips like a plea tears straight through his chest, his heart aching at the sound of his beloved's voice again. He can't help but feel his heart racing as he looks at your face, drinking in the sight of your tired but radiant face. "Y/N," he murmurs out.

He feels sick, how instantly his sleep-deprived body finds solitude at the sight of you. Relief flooding into his lungs, spreading throughout his veins like a chasm. Its shattering, he feels like a man who was lost in a desert after having left his paradise for a mirage of an oasis.

His body is on fire, his muscles searing to envelop you, to somehow make you melt into him and never let go. His vision blurs, watery, and then suddenly, his breath stills, when his eyes fall onto the soft bundle safely strapped to you chest. An appearance uncanny similar to his, its alive, living. His ears buzz in trepidation. On one hand you stand in front of him and he wants to fall on his knees and tell you how miserable and lonely he was, how being the villain in everyone's story, including yours doesn't bother him anymore, but that child...

"Is that.." he murmurs, but his voice trembles more that he would have liked it to.

Your eyebrows etch into a small frown, you almost want to scream at him for even asking this question. "Obviously." You reply your eyes darting to the aisles in the mart.

His breath stutters and his palms turn cold. No, no, no, no, no. A soft gasp leaves his mouth. The revelation tumbling down him. he had thought of everything. He was ready to face anything, and every consequence, and yet somehow some way he had forgotten to calculate a variable. A variable that was a variable that you, a variable was his child.

He killed his parents without hesitation, left the walls of the quaint house he grew up in all sullied with but somehow the sight of you with his child brings him to his knees. He wants to sob, rest his head on your knee and shakily kiss you and the baby in forgiveness.

"That's my child..." he says, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. With his silken black hair and nose bridge, the same bright black eyes he had as a kid....that's his

You take in a deep breath and nod, your heart pounds in your chest till it aches. "Tsukiko." You whisper out, your voice hoarse as you look at the little girl

Suguru has to bite his lip just to keep himself sane, memories of that bittersweet night flooding in and he feels he would topple over the pear rack.

"Tsukiko...she's named Tsukiko..." He says out and his hand shakes. That's his blood, his daughter and yet he is the farthest thing from a father. Seeing her so close to you, the way you are fussing over her, it has his throat run dry by the intensity of a ground marred from rain, a rain that fell always but now doesn't fall in the courtyard of his heart, leaving all the plants of humane emotions, wilting and dry.

He can't help but murmur out, "A pretty name. It suits her." He whispers out softly, gently reaching out a hand towards the small child. "May I?"

You look at him as a strange anger wells up within. You want to refuse, yet you want to cry in his sturdy arms, for him to envelope you so hard that you can't breathe. You want to beg him to come back, and yet you want to slap him and tell him to never show his face.

You want him to stay, to apologise for letting some as young as you go through pregnancy alone. You want him to apologise for leaving you in a state where the shadows around you seemed to warp in oddly threatening shapes, where intrusive thoughts had you so scared you had to call Shoko or Satoru just to listen to their voice, so that you feel real and don't end up doing anything stupid.

You want him to go back to your dorm room in jujutsu high, where all of his belongings are untouched like the day he left.

You gently unclasp her from the carrier. “Support her neck, she’s only two months old.”

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently takes the child into his arms, watching as you gently unclasp her from the carrier and gently place her into his arms. His heart hammers in his chest as he carefully and gently supports her small, fragile neck, feeling her small frame in his arms. Tsukiko blinks her wide eyes in confusion, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

You feel anguished, thinking of what life could have been if Suguru had never left for his goals. What if you hadn’t lost half of your soul that day.

His heart aches as he holds the small baby in his arms, thinking of all the moments he will lose out on seeing now. Never seeing her first steps, her first words, never reading her bedtime stories, never having her call him ‘daddy’. He will never get to see her experience the feeling of pure and unbridled joy for the first time, or seeing her face light up at all the small, everyday things that make children happy. He knows he has missed so much already, and the thought of missing more...

His heart aches and his breath catches in his throat as he feels the small child’s bottom lip tremble slightly, her head turning up to look at you with a conflicted look in her eyes. He can feel her small frame quiver slightly in his arms, probably still confused by the fact that she is in a stranger’s arms, but she isn’t crying to get away from him. The fact that she’s not crying to get back into your arms makes him want to laugh and sob all at the same time.

"Tsuki." You whisper out as you gently brush your fingers on her face. For some odd reason you don't want her to cry in his arms. After all the pain he has inflicted on me, Iyou still don't want him to be hurt by his girl crying to get away from him.

You take a sudden breath as my fingers brush against his arm accidentally, and suddenly you feel so small, so alone. With Tsuki away from your chest, even though she is right in front of you, you feel a strange fear of abandonment.

His heart races as he feels your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, your fingers leaving a scorching heat in their wake even though you’re only brushing against his arm. Your fingers are icy cold, and it’s just then that he realizes that you have tears streaming down your face, the droplets running down your chin and dripping onto the linoleum flooring of the grocery store. Your shoulders are trembling and you’re trying to hold back your sobs, but he can hear your strangled breaths.

"Give her back to me and leave." You whisper out as you bite your lips. Its not fair, It hurts so much. You have been so strong until now, taking care of everything, but now he is here and everything is rushing back like a riptide, knocking you off your feet, making you fall face-first onto the sand

He can feel his eyes widening in shock as your strangled words reach his ears, his heart aching painfully as he holds back the urge to cry out. He watches you struggle to stop tears from streaming down your face, watching the way your shoulders tremble as you try to hold back your sobs, watching as you fight back the urge to just hold the baby and run back to his arms.

"Geto." You murmur. Not Sugu, not Suguru. "Give me my child back," You whisper as you look at him, your hand clutching your chest as it aches so painfully. "Are you having fun seeing me make a spectacle of myself in the middle of a mart?" You croak out, but your voice doesn't waver.

His heart breaks as you call him ‘Geto’ in such a cold, detached voice. He gulps and hand the baby to you, his hands immediately feeling so empty, thats his daughter, his little girl. He wants to hold her, kiss her head, kiss the beautiful woman who brought her to life, but he is going to make a new world, and when all that is done, you would all be a family....

You gently tuck Tsukiko back in the carrier as he hands her to you and walk out of the mart, towards the exit. The groceries forgotten. You will buy them some other day. Each step is so difficult.

You wanna go back to him, cry in his arms, sob and hit his chest. Standing underneath a stop as you dial your phone to Satoru and he answers. "Satoru...can you pick us up?" I murmur tiredly, my voice hoarse

The moment he heard your voice over the phone, Satoru felt his heart dropping to his stomach. He can hear the way your voice is strained and hoarse, and he can sense the way that you are on the verge of tears. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat as he stands up from his desk and grabs the keys off his desk. “I’m on my way.”

You nod and cut the call, staring blankly at the clouds. You hear the automated door of the mart open and look at Suguru exiting the mart, three polybags in his hands as he walks up to you and keeps two of them on the ground. You look at the bag...its all the things in my cart and the pears.

Your lip trembles as I look up at him, eyes bleary. Tsukiko is now peacefully asleep against your chest. Her faint smell, that of baby powder and milk...It lingers from Suguru too, your head pounds.

He faintly smells like her too now and the way he looks at her, like he is aching, his eyes begging--- they are peading in the same way as they were on the night which lead to Tsuki. I wish I can have what I love, but to protect what I love, I must make a society where those I love ⎯ sorcerers: you, Tsuki, Satoru, Shoko ⎯ are safe

"Go, it's about to rain soon. You'll catch a cold if you get wet." You whisper out tiredly.

His heart aches as he watches you whisper out your words, the exhaustion plain on your face. He can’t bear to see you struggling and forcing yourself to be strong when he is the sole reason for your pain. And as he hears your tired voice, he just can’t help the way his hand reaches out to gently brush the tear away from your cheek. “Y/N…don’t cry,” he whispers.

You look at his hand caressing your cheek before a soft sob escapes your mouth. His touch making goosebumps rise all over your body. “Don’t do that, you have no right to when you decided to leave….” You say as you weakly push his hand away, but it’s so feeble and weary that it’s like a gentle nudge.

A fresh wave of tears builds in your eyes, and all he wants to do is draw you into his arms and hold you until your sobs fade away. It kills him how weak you are, how weak his leaving has made you. He wants to hold you and never let you suffer like this ever again. But how could he after he’s the one that caused this pain to begin with?

His phone rings, an unfamiliar contact name flashes on his screen. Mimiko with a little childish flower emoji next to it.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach; to the point that you feel as if you are having morning sickness all over again.

"That's your girlfriend?" you ask with a soft chuckle, as you don't feel this ugly cold wave wash over you, you feel my limbs stiffen, your teeth chattering at how cold I feel.

Its as if your heart has closed off, putting up a barrier around it and locking away all those painful emotion that he has inflicted on you. He looks down at his phone, seeing a picture of Mimiko and Nanako, the little girls he rescued and adopted 11 months ago, smiling in the caller ID. "Y/N..no..."

"You don't have to defend yourself y'know." you say with a fake breathy laugh as your hand supports Tsumiko's sleeping head to your chest. "Not that it matters anymore."

He bites his lip as he stares at your expression, his heart being "I’m not gonna defend myself but...those are my kids, not my girlfriends," he says softly.

Your eyebrows furrow as your grip on Tsukiko tightens instinctively. "...What?" Its too much. Its way too much for you to handle, your ears ring uncomfortably, yet you try to stand firm.

"Mimiko and Nanako..." He swallows nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I-I found them, when I left you. They are sisters. Their parents were murdered, and they were in such horrendous conditions that I just had to rescue them," he stutters, feeling a sudden uncomfortable rush of warmth on his cheeks from his heart racing.

"I see, uhm thats very nice of you." You mutter with a little smile. "Having two daughters, must be nice. something positive amongst all that you are doing..." You say, but your throat runs dry. He has two daughters. That’s basically a family. He is raising them out of goodwill and love, it’s optimistic.

Your heart aches as you think about Tsukiko. Her mother still stuck to her past, clinging to her lover.

Most of the days you can't tell the date from start to finish. You blankly do all the work, function normally but trapped in this surreal dream that you can't snap out from, until your back hits the bed and you stare at a picture of you and Suguru on the bedside. Finally crying, showing some humane emotion after acting like a non-sentient being.

He has two daughters. Who first had happy lives with their parents until they tragically died, and were taken in by an equally loving caretaker.

Your expression turns from shock to something a little more painful, a sad half-smile that looks like it’s masking the emotional turmoil that he can see building up beneath it. He can see the way that your shoulders droop a little, your head bowing just a fraction more towards your chest. He can see your fingers tightening just slightly around Tsukiko, "Yeah..it is...” he murmurs out weakly.

“I am glad…every child deserves a home.” You mutter genuinely, but you feel so so terrible, like the worst person on earth that you am jealous of those little girls. Those little kids who get to live with their adoptive dad, a happy life. Full of joys and laughter. While Tsukiko was born in such despair. So much pain. Her mother, her godparents; everyone suffering in the tumultuous Jujutsu society. But what about Tsukiko, who's only fault was being born, why does she have to experience this tragedy?

Suguru's heart shatters as he watches you silently struggle and hold back your tears. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He did this to you. He did this to you, and now his two adopted children are getting the life that he ripped from you. That he denied you. There’s so much you already hear from people, about your character. When your only crime was being in love

“I won’t tell her that you have kids when she grows up.” You say with smile. “Wouldn’t want her to think she’s not a good kid and that’s why her dad left her for other children who are better than her. She’ll think her daddy didn’t like her.” You mumur. “Kids can be particularly fragile…who would know better than a mother who’s a kid herself?”

His heart drops at your cold, quiet words, his breath catching in his throat, tears building in his eyes at the pure agony that he can feel in your words. The way you’re already resigning yourself to being a single parent all alone. The way you can only do this because you’re still a damn kid yourself. Suguru heaves breathlessly as he gulps, his bottom lip trembling. The words don't leave his mouth. He should just ask you to come with him, to live with him, to be together as a family, a big family.

“At least raise them well Suguru…the two of them should get a safe environment. You look down at Tsukiko, your fingers gently brushing the little hair on her hair. She’s so tiny, hasn’t even gotten hair on her head fully.

Suguru's hands shakes as he takes a step closer, just basking in the sight of his beloved and his daughter. "Yeah," he mutters. "They are good kids, my girls..." he says in a faint whisper as a soft smile graces his face at the sight of Tsukiko's pudgy cheeks.

What a mighty child, she can stop world wars, she has him stopped and he is the closest thing to be a cause of a war in near future.

My girls? Your knees buckle at the words. “Ah I see… they are your girls.” You can't help but be bitter at his phrasing as you look at our little Tsukiko. She looks so much like her daddy. From her eyes, nose, hair, skin…she is a replica of him and yet he’s never had the chance to call her his child. It’s so cruel.

He feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through his heart at your words. His girls…not our girls. His girls. He doesn’t have the right to have you call them our girls. They’re just his. All because of him.

“Will she ever be your daughter Suguru…?” You can’t help but mutter so shakily, your voice quivering like a child’s as tears roll down your eyes…you feel so small it’s embarrassing.

A soft breathy sob leaves Suguru, he can't do this, he is goddamn monster. The sound almost makes you flinch as you look up at him. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “How could I...she’s…” he struggles to get the words out. “She’s ours. She’s ours and she’ll always be ours.”

Suguru sakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, he so goddamn dizzy. "She is my daughter, Nanako and Mimiko are my kids." he says, the change of a synonym making such a huge difference in the meaning.

"And you- you are mine, you have no- no idea who difficult it has been, I can't even try to compare, but I've missed you so goddamn much." his voice cracks. "And its so lonely, the girls they see me staring at your picture everyday and I tell them that's their mother. When they ask where you are, I tell them how I messed up- left to protect you, because you do not agree with my ideas, I thought you would be better off without me, that you'd move on slowly. But there's my daughter and I feel so guilty. You cannot move on, not when she is a reminder of me, of us. Of our youth."

The tears don't drop, but they pain is etched on his face, deep frown and upturned brows. You breathe out and shake your head. "I can't-" you murmur and he bites his lip, his index finger lightly running on Tsukiko's palm.

"I know." he says, "I just wish- I just wish I had more time, with you and Tsukiko." he whispers in the same soft tone as he conflicted eyes look into yours as if to say. Come with me, leave the jujutsu society, just us, our family.

But leaving with Suguru meant betraying everyone. Satoru, Shoko, Yaga sensei and the entirety of the sorcerers who work day and night for the future. A safe future from people like Suguru. Who heedlessly killed thousands of innocents.

"Go," you whisper out. "the girls must be waiting." You pause, your fingers shakily finding his and his eyes widen. He firmly squeezes your hand, the warmth of his hand against yours rouses and inexplicable pain and fondness in you.

"Satoru must be arriving." you mutter.

He nods his head slowly as he steps away, his voice thick. “I love you." he whispers out. The same words he had denied you the privilege of last time as he leaves...

Moments later a panicked Gojo pulls over, alarmed by your call before his eyes widen as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy. His best friend, the strongest along him. Gojo can feel a cold shudder wash down his spine as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as recognition hits him instantly, realising what may have happened.

You are sitting on the seats on the bus-stand as he comes close.He steps closer to you, his heart breaking upon seeing the dried tear tracks that are on your cheeks and the look of brokenness and despair in your eyes. He kneels down in front of you and gently rests his hand on your knee, his eyes gentle as he looks at you. “Y/N....” he whispers.

“Satoru…” You whimper softly, your voice cracking out of desperation and relief.

He quickly reaches up to pull you into a tight hug, his heart aching at the small, whimpering whisper of his name from your lips and the way your breathing hitches and a choked sob escapes your lips, the rest of your body quivering in his arms from the force of your tears. His arms are locked tightly against your body, keeping you pulled firm against his chest as you cry into your hands and he gently strokes a hand up and down your back. “Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.”

He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remains...

A/N: I sincerely apologise for the pain, but I don't have enough money for everyone's therapy.

EXP: Pear symbolism: In Chinese, the word li means both pear and separation, so it's said that to avoid a separation, friends and lovers should not divide pears between themselves.

[theangelcatalogue]

ISLAND OF THE LOVESICKNESS || ★!

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Romantic!☆

Gender neutral!☆

Starting notes; Little project i wanted to make, since i love total drama and iots! This was inspired by iots but with Yandere ghosts! I will have multiple chapters, everyday one vitcm! I hope you all like it! (IOTS WAS MADE BY @eavee-ry )

TW: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, KILLING, OBSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, YANDERES, POSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, THROW UP, OUT OF CHARACTER, BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR AND MADE BY A MINOR!! YOU DON'T NEED TO READ IF YOU DON'T WANT! (Tell me if i missed something)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

They are death

Every single one of them, you know that

You were hired by your own uncle Chris McLean to be a intern at Total Drama, you would be something like a camp counselor! Your job was to check the campists

People said your uncle was a amazing guy, but you knew it was a lie, you never knew anyone more arrogant that him

Well, at least you have something to do at summer! And it would be fun see some drama...

Your job was to be a baby-sitter to resume, you were checking up and taking care of tennagers! People of your age! It was kinda fun but you were so tired of them

The nice thing is that they seemed to like you! Even Heather, but sometimes they were acting toward you(you thought that was weird cause it dind't make so many time you knew them)

It was going to have a challenger! Everyone was there except for Beth, you decided to look for her

In the florest you decided to worry, where is she? You heard a sound in the cave, as the beautiful curious you are, you got in

A bloody axe...

A lost arm...

Her body was bloody

She was dead.

SHE WAS DEAD!?

You wanted to throw up, the smell of blood...

You felt sick

You Chris and the interns, and they discover that a killer is in the island, what should we do!?

Chris had the idea of left the campers here

You tried to convice him other wise, but when you noticed you already in a boat leaving the island, you felt guilty, Chris made you leave them

Chris dind't left you because how would him explain this to your parents? Your Mother would kill him!

And when you came back home, he said to tell that you were in vacation...?

You passed the next months feeling guilty and sick, you wanted to throw up, and sometimes you really did it

You should had stayed, or at least try to convice Chris....

One day, Chris called you to go with him and two new interns to go back to the island and save them

You knew why Chris was doing that

He wanted to be the hero, that's it

But you decided to go, cause now it's time

Time to the truth, and let's be honest

You were afraid of the truth.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

I left the boat, this place looks so weird to be honest, you felt sick again

Something was wrong, you knew that! But now it's time

What happend to them

" I hope they are okay... "

I was afraid, afraid to go anywhere in this island, i dind't wanted to do that, but at same time...

I was scared

I felt something in your shoulder, a hand

" Don't worry Y/n! We going to find them, i hope... "

Sierra was trying to comfort me, but i could look at her eyes and see that she knew the truth

" Amigos! Everything will be alright, but i hope we have everything to survive here, Chris dind't explain so well "

Alejandro was in Sierra's side while looking at the island and looking around, he was right, Chris dind't explained how would you guys find the others, does him even know how to walk around this island?

I don't think so

" Can we stop to talk! Come on you- we have job to do! "

Chris said and started to walk, me, Sierra and Alejandro just followed him

Something is wrong in this place, i feel watched while walking

Oh god.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Notes:

★ THIS IS SOOOOO BAD HELP WHAT??? i tried ★

★ I hope you all like it! I will try to be more online even thought school is making this nearly impossible ★

★ Idk but Ily you guys <3 ★

[brucewaynehater101]

Hi! I have a writing idea, but I neither have the skill nor the motivation to turn it into a full story, so I thought of sharing it with you because *grips you by the shoulders with tired eyes* you have soooooo many writing ideas, and most of them inspired this brainrot in the first place

It all starts with Tim Drake living the good life. He's married, he has an aquarium full of fish, he's Aquaman's No. 1 Rival in being loved by fishes, and he's a mentor of most Young Heroes of that generation.

He's literally a grandpa (grand-uncle? grunkle?) with a good relationship with his brothers and Bruce, and a loving and spicy relationship with his partners (I can't choose between Kon and Bernard so they're poly)

He dies of old age with no regrets, content with his life and full of hope for the future.

And then he wakes the fuck up.

What. Was. Was none of that real? Did everything good that happened just a dream? A figment of his imagination?

Because not only did he not wake up, he woke up in a pool of his own blood within Titan's Tower. Jason was still there, painting on the wall with the blood that Tim spilled, still wearing that laughingly atrocious costume.

This.

This is bullshit.

Was his life too good that the universe decided "Ha. Fuck you. You need to suffer more, Bitch," and chucked him all the way to the past?

Jason notices him awake, picks up Tim's bō, and prepares to whack Tim.

But Tim barely cares. He's hurting in so many places. He misses his husbands. He just wanted his forever vacation.

He closes his eyes and just waits for the unconsciousness to happen.

It happens, and the next time he wakes up, Nightwing is hovering over him, and Batman is walking away to hunt Red Hood down.

Tim takes in a deep breath. Exhales slowly.

And then, he screams, "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, YOU GODDAMN FURRY."

Bruce pauses in his walk, Dick is gaping, and Alfred simply blinks at the side.

"YOU GONNA GO SEE JASON? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? SLIT HIS THROAT? YA BETTER STOP WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO CONFRONT HIM, BECAUSE BY DIANA, YOU'RE MESSED UP IN THE FUCKING HEAD, YOU KNOW THAT?"

Dick tries to placate him. "Tim, calm down--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DICK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FUCKER DID ON MY BIRTHDAY?! ASK ALFRED BECAUSE HE WAS IN ON IT, TOO!"

Tim was panting now. But he didn't care. He remembered heart to hearts with Jason. He remembered how he and Jason had matching neck scars, and how much pain Jason's face was in when he shared what happened between him and Bruce.

"We need to restrain, Bruce. He's going to kill Jason. He's going to put Jason back in the grave if we let him go out."

Everyone pauses, Dick and Alfred's eyes widened in horrified shock. Bruce's face paled.

Tim may have exaggerated a bit, but they don't know that. Because Jason still died. His heart restarts later, but it really doesn't erase what happened.

"I don't kill."

Tim scoffed.

"Just because a man doesn't die at that moment, doesn't mean he won't die later if he's left for dead.

"Jason is going to make you choose between him and the Joker. You're going to save the Joker. And Jason? Because he's no longer how you remember him? He's going to be left with so many injuries caused by you. And you'd want no one helping him, because you don't believe that the Jason that came back is even him anymore. Ergo, an indirect killing, Batman."

Tim glares at Alfred. "I don't fucking care if you're on Bruce's side." Then, he snarls at Dick, "And I don't fucking care if you know Bruce more than I do!"

"I don't give a damn that Jason hunted me down for some twisted revenge or some shit.

"But here's what I do care about: I worked too hard in making sure that the idea of Batman doesn't get tarnished. I'm Robin now. I'm here because I believe you need a Robin. And I'm going to do my fucking job of being your leash if it's the last thing I do!"

Bruce is just fucking standing there.

Tim wants to rip that cowl off.

He already went through sooooo many heartbreaking conversations with Bruce in his old life. Why does he have to go through this again?! Did Jason and Bruce not talk about this with each other in the other timeline?! Does Tim have to bridge their relationship and mediate like he does when Dick comes to visit?

Fuck this life.

Ahhhh, Tim misses his husbands so much, why couldn't they regress back in time with him?

After a few moments, Bruce.

Fucking.

He fucking leaves!

Tim gapes, he glances to Dick with his disbelief clear on his face, and then he grabs a pillow and screams into it.

Fuck. Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.

Tim is soooooo not doing this anymore. He's 16 again, c'mon! He doesn't even feel any of his joint pains (which may be because of the anesthesia, but whatever.)

Tim turns to Dick with a grim expression.

"Call Superman," he says. "And Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter. Heck, even call Green Lantern and Flash."

"Why?" he asks.

This motherfucker even had the gall to be confused.

"Because you're the Justice League's eldest child that they raised together as a village," Tim says slowly, as if he's talking to a preschooler. "Let's not give a fuck about the 'no metas in Gotham' rule, and start giving a fuck about all we could accomplish by letting so many adultier adults help us."

Thank Billy Batson Dick nods.

"We're gonna save Jason?"

Tim shrugs, lies down, and tugs his blanket over his whole body. "I don't give a fuck about Jason, Dick."

"Wha--"

"I just care about making sure that Batman doesn't turn into a villain to his own children. He's already fucked up so bad with you, Dick. We gotta make sure he doesn't fuck up any more, especially when Bruce wants to bring Jason home some time later when he stops being an ass."

Tim makes a mental note to make sure that Bruce doesn't get any mind control technology on his hands either.

He hears Dick sigh, slide his chair back, and probably stand up.

"I'll be back," he says softly.

Tim grunts like the true bat-child he is.

Finally, Dick leaves.

Unfortunately, Alfred was still here.

In the previous timeline... Tim never got a heart to heart with Alfred about all the things the man did and didn't do. And he thought he moved on but...

This is the man who gave him the Robin suit first. This is the man who he helped take dishes away from the table every time Dick and Bruce gets onto their violent screaming matches. This is the man who everyone put on the pedestal, but is Tim's equal in everything regarding Bruce's wellbeing.

And it hurt. It hurt so much when only Tim is witness to all of this man's flaws.

°°°°°°°°°°

Aaaaand then I got nothing else to add. I have no idea where I was going with this but here is the culmination of my hatred for Batman, my disenchantment with Alfred, and my need for Tim to scream his heart out because, no. Tim did not die contentedly. He did not actually die a natural death of old age. And the only hope for the future he has is of him meeting up with Kon and Bernard in heaven while everything else on earth can crash and burn for all he cares.

Hello!!!! I'm so glad you shared this and for the compliments. It makes me really happy to see people sharing their AUs. It kind of feels like a community project? People will reblog or do asks for different AUs, so lots of people end up contributing. I love that this is the direction this blog has taken.

As far as what you've shared? Positively beautiful. Fuck Bruce, Tim deserves the chance to scream, and I agree about Alfred. I love that man.... but only some versions of him. What he did to Tim was foul, and his tendency to just stand aside (to not stop Bruce) is horrid. Fuck that bystander shit.

For your time travel AU, I love that he died peacefully and old before being thrown into the hell that was his childhood again. Even worse, it's during Titan's Tower, so he can't change anything that leads up to that. He's thrown smack into the thick of all the drama and bullshit.

Also, rip Tim's relationships in the AU. Unless his husbands got transported back in time with him, he wouldn't be able to fall in love with them. He'd look at their younger selves and see them as the children they are (and the kid he no longer feels like).

To add onto that, he might feel older than Bruce too. If Bruce is 35 ish in this and Tim was like 70, he probably sees Bruce as a grown adult who's also a baby. That man needs to get his shit together, but gods is he so fucking young and stupid.

Special parts I loved:

Fish loving Tim more than Aquaman

Tim going from hard-earned decent relationships with his family to the sewage of his Robin years

The acknowledgement that Tim was Alfred's equal on taking care of Bruce (and how much that betrayal hurt)

Jason actually dying when his throat was cut (that's my hc too)

Tim immediately getting the JL involved

I would so be down with exploring this AU more. Your writing is also fantastic!

[sorencd]

could you PLEASE write something about charlie with that line 'i always thought you were the most beautiful girl i've ever seen'

LATE NIGHT TALKING

PAIRING : charlie dalton x f!reader WORD COUNT : 0.5k A/N : this took sooooo incredibly long but i finally got around to writing it! tysm for requesting mwa

his coat that embraced your very form situated atop your pajamas that you're sure is littered with grass clippings underneath from where you sat, the crickets were chirping but just enough to be considered as calming instead of the usual annoying noise as people would say, and the moon was softly cascading its light from behind the clouds that covered a portion of it. beside you, was charlie. it was late in the night, and you're sure that if you or his parents found out the both of you snuck out just to go stargazing, it would probably be the end of these fun little meetups at night.

"aren't you getting cold? do you want your coat back?'

"it's fine, keep it. it looked better on you anyway."

"nope, i think it suits you better. you look like some cool butt-kicking crime-fighting hero that works at night."

"someone's been reading too much comics."

your playful laugh played over the cricket's chirping as you shoved his arm before falling against the grass, shifting your gaze from the lake ahead to the dark sky above, a sight that always knew how to make you feel at ease warm and despite the cold air that always came along it. you turned your head to the right, where charlie was sitting. he was looking at the sky as well, his neck craned up his hands carrying his weight. it was a sight to behold, the moon was shining just the right amount of light onto his face and he looked heavenly. the moon was a paid actor.

"you know, i still can't...stomach...the fact that we're dating. and that i'm stargazing with you, like, right now. i just can't wrap my head around it."

"why?"

"i just.. can't believe that i have someone, i guess. i thought i would've always settled with being just me, myself, and i."

charlie followed suit and laid on his back alongside you before responding, "i'm here now. and you're here. we're both here."

"i'm glad."

now it was his turn to stare at you, all awestruck and amazed with how he was lying beside you, both watching the clouds pass by the moon. he scooted a little closer to you, wanting to feel the familiar warmth that always seemed to come along you. he loved it.

"you know, ever since i first laid my eyes on you, i've always thought you were the most beautiful girl i've ever seen. i was all 'woah' and my heart was all crazy and stuff. i just knew you had to be mine."

"someone's been reading too many poems."

he laughed, a sound that you've heard a million times but you'll never get tired of. you moved your head to be in a position where it was closer to his, craving the warmth he always radiated from him and his romantic lovesick gestures. you loved it.

"i think i'm going to the moon tonight." charlie confessed, moving his head to face you with a smile.

a soft giggle came from your lips, not in a mockingly way, but one filled with affection. "really?"

"yeah, and i want you to come with me."

"i'd love nothing more, charlie."

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[raptor1312]

No no, I agree.

I just don't really care for Gingerbrave. I don't know why Pure Vanilla Cookie keeps taking him kn adventures 😂

I can answer this, the plot demands it. It’s sooooo frustrating because PV’s character is ASSASSINATED because the narrative needs to constantly remind us that we need to pay attention to Gingerbrave, who’s just…. Eeeeeh.

I want to like the guy, but the more I’ve been thinking about it, especially after Beast Yeast 3 and 4, he does not need to be in every story episode.

Plus, Devsisters, why did you make PV take CHILDREN with him to dangerous, uncharted territory??? Oh, it’s because they’re supposed to be the main characters. You know what would have been better? Pure Vanilla tells them they can’t come with him. That shows he’s smart, like the ancient heroes should be! Then it’s revealed that they stowed away!!! This is such an easy fix! Maybe it can make GB spiced up a little, too!

Ugh I’m just tired of the devs constantly disrespecting my boy.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 25 - Deadpool

Wade Wilson x reader 

           "This must be your favorite day."

           "Because you're a freak."

           "I think he understood. Unless he's stupid."

           "Haha. You guys are sooooo funny. Halloween, my favourite day, because I wear a mask all the time, and under the mask I look like a moldy avocado. Nobody never said that to me. I think someone did, to Batman, so I'll take that as a compliment."

           "You're not as handsome as Batman. With and without the mask."

           "Thank you, Yellow, you're adorable."

           "More than you, for sure."

Wade didn't know why he kept chatting with the boxes. They were never nice to him and they didn't deserve his attention.

Maybe it was because no one else wanted to talk to him. Despite his best efforts, people still ended up finding him weird, crazy, and dangerous. This was incomprehensible to Wade, who thought he was the best friend in the world.

Loyal, funny, ready to kill if asked, for money or a hug.

According to Spidey, Red, and Moon-Moon, the only heroes who agreed to spend some time with him, he didn't do it well. He was too intense and he had to stop threatening people, whether it was to protect the people he loved, or to ask the people he loved to love him back.

And all of that was when he had his mask on.

No normal person ever gave him a chance seeing his face, running off before they tried to get to know him.

It was a bit hurtful, but Wade could understand. He had already vomited and passed out after seeing himself in a mirror. At the same time.

So even if they said that to be mean, the boxes weren't wrong. His scorched pizza face could only come out on Halloween, because people thought it was a disguise then, and everyone praised him, saying he was really awful, which was so cool. Just for that day.

The other days it was just awful.

           "We could enter a contest. We would win a prize."

           "At the end, they will understand that it is not a costume and they will throw tomatoes at you while laughing, like Quasimodo."

           "Even Quasimodo is more handsome."

           "He's not with the girl at the end."

           "And Wade is single, I don't see where the problem is."

           "I want tacos !" declared Wade, who was tired of listening to them, even though he knew they were going to follow him wherever he went. They were silent only when he shot himself in the head, and never for very long.

It was nice to go out without the mask for once. He decided to put on a cap anyway, to avoid attracting too much attention. If someone asked him, he was a sexy zombie, and a famous one, but incognito, so he didn't accept photos, thank you.

On his way, he passed an ice cream shop, and eating ice cream before the tacos seemed like a good idea. It all ended up in the stomach at the end, the order didn't really matter.

It was a little cold, so there weren't many people in the shop. Some stared at him, both frightened and fascinated, smiling shyly at him when he greeted them.

It was that stupid gesture, to wave his hand to embarrass strangers, that changed his life. Well, maybe not his life, but at least his day.

No, yes, his whole life.

Wade's hand passed very close to the girl who was patiently waiting her turn behind him, touching her hair, and they both jumped at the same time.

The poor innocent backed off, while he immediately apologized, explaining that he hadn't done it on purpose, and that she had no reason to be afraid or disgusted, he wasn't sick or contagious, just ugly.

           "Well, I guess there's reason to be disgusted, I have a special face."

           "Oh. No, sorry, I was surprised, I was thinking about the ice cream I was going to choose, I thought something was falling on me, like an insect."

           "If I was an insect, I would be a dung beetle. Often screwed up, but very useful for the whole world."

The boxes told him he was ridiculous, but that made the young girl laugh. They then told him that she was making fun of him, while she added that he was funny, with a charming smile.

           "My name is Y/N." she said, holding out her hand, as if she wanted him to shake it. He couldn't do that, she was way too pretty for him to touch.

           "Wade Winston Wilson. Triple W. My dad was an alcoholic, he wanted to call me Georges, but eventually he gave the dog that name, and he loved him more than me."

           "I hope that's not true."

           "The name story isn't. Shall I buy you ice cream?  To make up for almost slapping you. Really sorry, I'll never do that. I'll cut my hand off rather than hit a woman. I've fought women before, but they were bad guys, I mean bad girls, and I think it's pretty feminist of me not to discriminate, but I won't hit a helpless woman who didn't do anything wrong. I'm actually hired to hunt down guys who do this, and sometimes I even do it for free."

This made Y/N laugh again, and Wade considered that she hadn't understood that he was serious.

Not to scare her away, he didn't insist. She had accepted that he pay for her ice cream, if in exchange he agreed to stay a little with her to discuss.

           "I thought you wanted tacos." White reminded him.

           "But now he wants Y/N."

           "She's too good for him. Just like Esmeralda with Quasimodo."

           "She's much prettier than Esmeralda."

           "What ?" Y/N asked looking at him in surprise.

           "Nothing, I... I'm talking to myself, I was thinking of something else. So, not dressed up for Halloween yet ?"

           "No, not yet. I'm not sure I'm going out tonight, the streets aren't safe, and I have a date."

Wade did his best to hide his disappointment, so very badly. This made the young woman laugh again.

           "I mean, I have a date with my sofa, my television, a blanket and some chocolate."

           "I think we have a date with the same person tonight. It's terrible, they're cheating on us, we should get revenge by going out together !"

           "Haha, yes, why not."

He had said that as a joke, really. It was one of the only non-serious things he had said since the moment he saw her sweet face and his heart almost stopped beating at so much beauty, and now Y/N had just accepted a go on a date with him.

           "No, she's joking too."

           "Yes she didn't understand that we were really ugly."

           "I'm really ugly." repeated Wade, pointing his fork at his face. "It's not a mask, I look like it all year round. And I'm really hired to punch bad guys, or worse."

           "I know. You're Deadpool. You sometimes work with Spiderman and other heroes, I've seen you on the news."

           "... And it's okay ?"

           "Yes." simply replied the angel who was eating her ice cream in front of him.

White yelled at him that they were probably dead again and dreaming while he was regenerating. Yellow whispered to him that it was a cruel joke, or that she was a Hydra spy who wanted to capture him to study his cells. Wade watched the rainbows and butterflies floating in the air, hearts in his eyes.

Obviously, Y/N didn't see the little hearts, taking his silence for a rejection.

           "If I was too quick, I'm sorry, I... You're nice, and funny, and I had a great time with you. But if you're not interested, or you already have someone, or...'

           "No ! I'm having a great time too. It's much better than tacos ! I wanted to eat tacos before stopping here."

           "Really ? We... We could go have some together?  Then I don't know. We'll see. Do you have a number ?"

Convinced that she wouldn't call him, he gave her his personal number. The one he had given to his pals of the Team Red of the Moon, and that was it, because all the other people he knew didn't deserve to know this number, with its brilliant voicemail where he imitated Ryan Reynolds, only knowing his professional phone, where he was making farts noises.

Except that Y/N immediately sent him a message, while they were still together.

           "Here. That way we can schedule another date."

           "Another date ?"

           "Yeah... I mean, unless we don't consider today to be a date. Sorry, we'll schedule a first date."

           "I don't know if White and Yellow are right, but I don't care."

           "What ?"

           "Nothing. Shall we go and eat tacos ?"

Leaving way too much money for the waitress, Wade hopped happily alongside Y/N who was still smiling like he didn't look like an idiot with a ravaged face, and Wade thought to himself that Halloween was maybe actually his favourite day. And that eating ice cream before the meal was a great idea !

[ohithankyou]

oooh okay, how about a new little game?

Finish this sentence: Tommy walks in the door after a long shift and finds that Evan is....

hiiii thank you for the distraction <3 (sorry my brain is mush so i’m answering this less like a coherent story and more so just my ramblings. all the fic writers in this fandom are truly my heroes with your beautiful eloquent words)

but i love the idea of buck staying up and waiting for tommy to get back when tommy’s working a late shift. tommy tells him to go to sleep and get his rest, that he doesn’t need to stay up but buck says he sleeps easier when tommy’s in bed with him so it’s better that he just stay up. “it’s not just for you tommy, it’s really for my own selfish reasons for needing your body heat to lull me into a deep sleep.” (he’s not lying - it is for that, but it’s also for his boyfriend to have someone to welcome him home after a long shift).

anyway, one day, buck’s quite tired from his own 24 hour the day before so he ends up knocking out on the couch and tommy comes home to find him with one arm hitting the wall, the other hanging off the couch—fingers brushing the floor, and his legs hanging over the arm rest. he’s also got his mouth wide open, snoring (which tommy finds kinda adorable), and drool spilling on his cheek. tommy walks over quietly and tucks buck’s arm into his side, cups his face gently and presses a little kiss into his open mouth. buck does a sweet little hmmmm and says “you’re home. i fell asleep.” with a little pout (you know the one) and tommy gives him another smooch because his boyfriend is sooooo adorable and says “i’m home.” (and gives him another smooch). and then they go to bed and buck is latched onto tommy like a koala!!

[rachi-roo]

Is there any way we can have an LoV tickling Hawks fic? Pretty bird needs to laugh, and he didn't get normal childhood experiences like tickles...especially on his canonically vibration sensitive wings. Thank you!!

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My Hero Academia: Little corner to call Home

Thank you sooooo much anon!!! Lee!Hawks will always be a special favourite of mine 🥰❤️ I'm so glad you've given me a reason to write him again. And I'm SO sorry this took so long 😭.

Summary: Hawks is caught napping in the LoV lair one day, small-winged and vulnerable to attack. And of course, the villains won't let him rest easy. Especially after Dabi joins in, maxing out on his attack~

Lee!Hawks, Ler!Toga, Ler!Twice, Ler!Compress, Ler!Dabi

Tw: Some footer tiggles

02/03/23

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Hawks had been staying with the LoV for some time now, and had grown happy and comfortable resting around them. And this was one of those times. The sun was shining outside, there was a warm breeze flowing in through the open window along with the sound of cicadas chirping in the trees.

The number two pro hero had dozed off on the sofa in one of the lounge rooms of their little hideout, stretched out on his front, one arm underneath the pillow he was resting his head on, enjoying the feel of the warm breeze shifting through his tiny, diminished wings. His coat draped over the back of the sofa and his boots were by the door where he had kicked them off, his little feet warm in the rays of sunshine that breathed through the window.

A soft voice called as a finger poked the sleeping bird's cheek. "Oiii... Heeeeroooo?" It was Toga, having just come back from a meeting with Shigaraki. "Hah... Taking up the whole couch like some slob. I'd be mad if you didn't look so cute." She giggled, leaning over to get a closer look at his sleeping face.

"Well, what do we have here?" Compress's voice cooed from the doorway, smiling at the sight. Twice leaned over his shoulder, wondering what was going on.

"What is it? What is it? Oh!" He gasped, rushing past and crouching by the sofa, aweing over how sweet Hawks looked, keeping his voice to a whisper. "Oh he's just precious, ain't he? Hah, ugly duckling!"

"Seems he's made himself comfortable. I suppose we'll take our seats on the floor." Compress shrugged, too polite to find it in his heart to wake the bird.

Toga reached a hand, softly running a finger down the length of Hawks's little feathers. "Oooh, so soft." She paused upon hearing a small mewl from the bird as he shuddered, a small smile gracing his lips before fading into sleep again. Togas eyes sparkled as she realised what she had just discovered.

"Oh my..." She repeated the gesture, just testing out her theory. Once again, Hawks reacted, this time with a slight giggle, pressing his face further into the cushion he was resting upon as his wings fluttered slightly. "No way."

"What are you up to?" Compress asked, raising a brow. Toga grinned up at him, carefully moving to sit on Hawks's lower back. He must be really tired for him not to notice.

"I'm teaching this bird a lesson about sharing couch space." With that, Toga started dragging her fingertips up the length of all the feathers, each stroke making Hawks shudder and giggle sleepily until the feeling was too much for him to ignore.

"Uh, wh-ah! Whahat?" He looked over his shoulder, seeing Toga sitting upon him, grinning sweetly as she continued to play with his micro feathers. "Tohoga, aha! T-That tihickles!" The sensation wasn't unbearable, just enough to be annoying and make the hero giggly. He sleepily reached an arm behind him, trying to twist his torso to stop the tickly attack. "Togaha! Cuhut it out! Ehehe!"

"No way, birdbrain. This is what you get for taking up the whole couch!" She giggled with him, one hand sneaking down his side, skittering over the clothed skin.

"Ahaha! O-Ohokahay! I'll move, I'll mohove! C'mohon!" He grabbed her wrist as his side was tickled, trying to sit himself up from the sofa but Toga pressed down with her knees, keeping him trapped on his front.

"You're not going anywhere until you've learned your lesson~" The fanged female chuckled, admiring how his wings fluttered and puffed up as she ran her fingers lightly through them. Only subtle touches tickled this way, and Toga was a very nimble assassin.

"Plehease! Ehehe! N-Nohot my wihings!" Hawks legs kicked against the couch cushion, his toes tucking down the side as he tried tensing up to stop the tickly feelings, to no avail.

"Oho God, Toga you- Ah?!" He gasped, panicking as he felt his legs being restrained by another body, just able to see the black and white costume behind Toga. "Twihice! Hold on a minute! C'mon w-we're pahals right?? Not my feheheee-!" His beseeching dissolved into loud laughter as Twice started scribbling over the bird's trapped soles.

"Ha! If only we'd known about this secret sooner! We could have crushed him with ease. I mean, had tickle fights!"

Twice smiled, bouncing slightly as Hawks tried to wriggle his legs free. The pro had been tickled before, by various daring fans and a certain bunny-like companion, but never on his feet before. This was a whole new ballgame, although not unenjoyable.

"Ahaha! Guahays! Get ohohoffa mehehehe!" He wriggled and squirmed all he could but it was no use. If only he hadn't spent up all his feathers, his big wings could get him out of this situation with one flap.

"Well, now I feel left out." Compress chuckled, leaning over the arm of the sofa by Hawks's head and slipping his hands under the bird's arms, earning a loud chorus of tweeting as he tucked his arms to his sides.

"NOHOHO! C-Comprehehess! Ahaha! L-Lets tahalk about thihis! Plehehease!"

Toga giggled, pulling the birds shirt up and over his wings, exposing his back. "You're so goofy, pigeon man." She chuckled, blowing a raspberry on his spine, right between where his wings joined.

"Kyaaaaah! Togaaa! What the hehehell!?" The sensation took him by surprise, even more so when the attack on his sides started up again.

"Well, well, well. Looks like the little birdys gotten himself into a bit of a pickel~" Dabis teasing tone entered the chat as he stood in the doorway, watching the birds suffering. "Fell asleep on the couch again and took up all the room, did ya?" He chuckled, standing by the couch casually.

"I-It was an ahaccident!"

"Sure... Flip him." The burned man grinned. The rest of the group happily obliged, tussling with the bird as they flipped him onto his back, pinning him once more. This time, Dabi took a seat on Hawks's waist, smirking scarily down at him.

"Dabi. Look. We're friends right? Me and you? And all of you? Yeah?" The smile on Hawks cheeks was making it hard for the league to take him seriously. "I'll buy you dinner! Hah? How's that sound?" He bartered, tugging on his arms as Compress held them tight over his head. "A nice fancy, expensive dinner. All for you."

"Hmmm. I don't knooow." Dabi teased, starting to trace circles on Hawks exposed ribs, Twice following his lead as he drew shapes on the birds feet.

"I don't think that's enough compensation for the trouble he's caused." Toga chimed in, sitting back to back with Dabi, gently raking her nails up Hawks thighs, making them shudder under her touch. The poor bird could hardly contain his giggling. Why were the light touches so cruel and effective?

"Plehease! Y-Yohou guys are the wohorst! AHAHA! DAHAHABI! NAAAAA!" The bird's laughter suddenly exploded again as Dabi dug into his ribs, grinning at the reaction it got him. The way Hawks arched his back, mouth agape as he screamed with laughter.

"Poor little chicken. Maybe next time you won't get in my dear Togas way." Dabi chuckled, pressing into the lowest ribs in the set, laughing with his winged friend as the team continued their tickly attack on him.

"GYAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"

This went on for about twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of tickly bliss, where all Hawks could do was laugh without a care in the world. He was happy. Although they were essentially punishing him, there was definitely playfully and caring intent behind it. The way his friend's would tease him, patting his hair and switching positions whenever he got too out of breath. They cared about him, just had a funny way of showing it.

By now, his face was warm red, hot to the touch with a slightly sweaty shine to his brow along with streaks of tears that rolled down his cheeks glinting in the light as he shook his head. His struggling had died down to tired twitching and tugging occasionally. The bird was cooked.

"O-Okahay! OKAHAY- Stahap! Pwehehease! Ahaha! Is aha! I-Its too muhuch!" He pleaded, trying to flick his hair from his face as it flopped over his eye. The squad stopped their punishment as Dabi took hold of Hawks face, squeezing his cheeks as he held him steady.

"Now, you learned your lesson, chicken shit?" He chuckled, amused by how squishy Hawks face was. The tuckered out bird nodded as he panted, his lips smushed slightly.

"Mhm... M'not gonna go' it again." He mumbled, smiling the best he could. Dabi smirked, letting go and climbing off him, patting his cheek a few times. "Damn right. Now, you lot can do what you want with him. I'm off.' The fire user waved them off as he left the room.

"Movie time!" Toga cheered, tossing a pillow at Hawks as he sat up, rubbing his feet on top of one another to get rid of the ghost tickles like a little cricket.

Compress sat by his side, Twice on the other. "Next time, I won't go easy on ya." The two toned villain chuckled.

Hawks gulped. "That was easy mode?" His comment roused laughter from the others. The room felt warm, and friendly, like a home should feel. He was happy here with these villains. His found family.