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willowser · 5 months

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now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to.

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress.

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought.

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek.

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon.

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf #and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ??#SO I REWROTE IT LOL #i hope this is okay !! 🥺#i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only #that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow #whenever he touches you #🥺#tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!!#literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm 🥺#✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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max-nico · 7 months

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Sonic has been called an "overprotective big brother" over the years many times. Not his fault that Tails is small, impressionable, and reckless. He's known the kid since he was a toddler, if anyone else had been around that long they would understand too.

Or at least he thought they would, but it seems he was wrong because his own two best friends–Amy and Knuckles–are the ones who call him overprotective the most. This is a huge betrayal on their part, especially when they bring up valid points like Tails' intelligence and skill, because how could he disagree. Sonic has the coolest, most awesome and amazing, little brother ever.

With that being said, Sonic is pretty sure he has the right to interrogate the little fox this time. He's like 90% sure his panic is warranted when he sees his little brother load and cock a very real and deadly gun. Because that kid is 9. He is 9, and he is putting on his watch and his plane gear to leave, and for some reason he needs a weapon wherever he's going. Sonic thinks he has a right to exercise at least a little big brother privilege here, honestly it would be negligent to not at least question him.

"Hey bud. Whatcha up to?"

Tails' ear flicks toward him as he packs a few things into the Tornado. "You remember that hard drive that GUN thought they stole from me, but I actually knew they wanted it so I lowered a few of my defense systems so that they could grab it and leave me alone?"

The answer is no, Sonic has no recollection of that happening at all. Though he supposes it's his own fault for only half listening when Tails was talking. He's really gotta break that habit.

"Sure do." Sonic lies.

"Well, I actually have a little bit of data on there that I forgot to back up to another hard drive since I didn't think I needed it, so I'm going to go get it."

"And you need a weapon for that? Why don't you just ask Shadow?"

Tails finally turns to face Sonic, floating down off the Tornado and in front of Sonic. He stands with his hands on his hips, leaning just a little into his personal space. He takes the chance to absentmindedly scratch behind his little brother's ears, making him push his head into his hand.

"I did, actually. He's the one who told me to bring some weapons, he said he wants to help me improve my stealth techniques."

"Huh, and he didn't even bother to text me about it." Sonic huffs. It comes out playfully, but he won't deny being a little peeved that Shadow didn't message him. Tails is a genius and can make his own decisions, sure, but he's also not even in double digits. Sonic is literally his guardian, he feels like he should've been consulted about this. "I find that quite rude."

Tails smacks Sonic with one of his tails. The fur gets trapped in the small quills on his face, which makes his brother giggle.

"Then how do you find that, hm?"

"I find that the person who did it has another thing coming."

Sonic is so gonna fill his pillows with quills and shaving cream again. The fox constantly complains about not being able to get his quills out of any furniture, but he also got his fur stuck on Sonic's face, he figures this is pretty good retribution.

"Sure I do."

This is what Sonic means. Where did his wholesome brother go? Ignoring the fact that he has been a little menace since they first met, this is obviously team Dark's fault. Their devious ways are corrupting his little brother, who has obviously only learned nice things from him, like dad jokes and spindashing.

Tails has been constantly hanging out with team Dark for a few months now. After spending time with Rouge on Amy's last birthday he seemed to acquire a sort of childish fascination with them. Honestly, Sonic didn't really see it as a bad thing at first. They got Tails to spend more time out of his lab, and they always seemed to take care of him so Sonic had no qualms as long as Tails was having fun.

Then the habits came. Habits that Sonic had managed to completely purge a couple years back. Sure, he's not building bombs willy nilly anymore (as far as he knows anyway), but a few weeks ago Tails showed him the Empire nuclear launch codes just because he could.

Just yesterday they were having a conversation about a grocery store in station square. Amy had apparently told him that the cashier was kind of rude, so he asked if she wanted him to "blow up the entire store". She laughed and said no thanks, but when Sonic just shook his head at him Tails had the audacity to say "he'll make sure there's no one in it", as if that was the problem with what he said.

Sonic will not claim to have clean hands. He will not say he's never killed anybody on purpose or on accident, but is it so much to want to spare his brother from the same fate? Sonic still has nightmares over things like that, and even if his little brother is joking, he just can't find it in himself to laugh.

It's obvious Sonic will have to talk to Shadow and Rouge soon, he would talk to Omega as well but the robot honestly just does whatever he wants. Sonic can respect it. He cannot, however, respect Shadow and Rouge teaching his kid brother bad stuff, like how to get away with murder and other things of the like.

"I'll be back before you know it, Sonic, I swear!"

It's obvious Sonic has just missed most of the one sided conversation Tails was just having with him, he zoned out again. Damn it.

"And I'll have my communicator on me so if anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to know! I'll stay safe, Shadow will be with me."

Tails says that as if it's any comfort to Sonic. He may trust Shadow with his life but he does not trust him with children. He's sure Tails will come out physically unscathed, but mentally? This is going to be a trainwreck.

Sonic sighs. He already knows he won't be able to convince him not to go, at least not in the small timeframe he has, so he just pulls the kid in for a hug instead. "Call me as soon as you're able, okay?"

"I will, promise!"

"And if you're not back and not answering in 24 hours, I'm coming to find you myself."

"Yes, Sonic." Tails says, pulling away.

"And I'll give Shadow a piece of my mind if I have to, you know I will."

"I'm leaving now."

"And so will Knuckles and Amy!"

"Goodbye!"

"Remember what I said about calling!"

"I can't hear you anymore!"

Sonic smiles as Tails starts his plane, the kid will be fine, he knows it. After all, he's sure Shadow and Rouge know the consequences if he's not.

woe, the brothers be upon ye I wrote this in like two sittings and its barely been edited, I'll probably put this on ao3 later after I've looked at it again lol. you're welcome to hit me up in my dms or askbox, but if it's a request I would prefer my ask box lol. Remember you have to be nice to me forever and ever and ever if you decide to talk to me btw

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sysig · 4 months

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So much experimenting to be done, where to even start (Patreon)

#Doodles #Handplates #UT #Fellplates #Gaster #Papyrus #Sans #Mostly silliness :) Mostly :)#It's still fun to draw these two Gasters next to each other hehe ♪ Even interacting!#They're more similar than I think either of them would admit haha - ''No clearly we have very different ideals'' sure but you're both Gaster #I like the idea of classic being So Annoyed at any iteration of himself thinking positively towards humans haha #I mean it would probably hurt - that's a big piece of his trauma! - but on the surface it's just Ugh I can't believe this -.ó #I feel like they'd have a lot more common ground when it comes to their experiments tho - not a perfect Venn Diagram but enough!#Maybe even just different enough to offer a new perspective - enough to give them new ideas! Uh oh that's never a good thing lol #I do love Fell!Gaster just so pleased to be having a conversation haha so smiley - classic still not smiling but interested!#Cute face <3 #It was after making the Toriel comic that the thought Really occurred to me - like obviously I saw so I knew they were still in the gowns #But it took a bit for that to strike me as odd since I mean that's just what they wear! That's normal! For Handplates anyway #He talks a lot about isolating whatever it is in Monsters that Make Them Like That - what does that entail #Gaster no seriously what are you doing to them don't just smile actually reply #And as much as I like the boys being a bit more Fell-ish I've always been of the opinion that no matter what they're brothers!#They love each other <3 And in Fellplates they'd have to rely on each other even more than regular Underfell #If anything would cause some codependency it's the Handplates setup - no matter what version you throw at it!#They're still both delicate little things - they need each other to survive ♥ If Gaster is sometimes kind to them well...#Similar to Mercyplates but Not Quite hmmmm #At least sometimes doing cute and harmless things tho! Studies how they react to flowers and teaches them to make chains hehe ♪#There's also that Underfell thing of Sans calling UF!Papyrus ''Boss'' rather than ''Bro'' yeah? Doodling ideas around that haha #An opportunity to teach! Sans only came away with the basics tho it probably annoys Gaster lol #The idea of them doing cute harmless little things and /that/ being what gets under his skin hehehehe #And ending with a Babybones! :D Surely he'd have no problem being attached since they're meant to be good...? Surely

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stygianoaths · 1 year

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the most inaccurate thing about heroes of olympus is grover not setting out to find percy jackson as soon as juno woke him up. this guy found pan, a little bit of pan went into percy, so there's no way grover wouldn't have eventually found percy.

#give me kickass grover who finds percy way ahead of time and nico has to shut him the fuck up #nico: you have no idea what you're getting into #grover: exactly! that's why i'll be getting out. with percy though #pjo #hoo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #grover underwood

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canisalbus · 4 months

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Thinking about a scenario where Vasco has to kill someone to protect Machete. Like maybe a lone assassin is sent to kill Machete in his sleep, only to be surprised by Vasco sharing a bed with him, and Vasco is first to react. Machete would see how killing affects those with souls purer than his.

#oh no you're giving me all sorts of ideas #Vasco #Machete #answered #anonymous #I know this is a serious character moment but Vasco likes to sleep nude so he'd be there wrestling an assassin buck naked

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uncanny-tranny · 7 months

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You know, I feel like other trans people might get this, but it's honestly kind of refreshing when a cis person has, like, undeniable tboy/tgirl/whatever swag. It's like when you come across somebody who speaks the same language as you and you only find out when they start speaking it, too.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #all this to say that we are existing on a rock hurling through space #and this universe is going to collide into another and does it all truly matter in the end?#a lot of this is based on ideas we have about what constitutes certain people and i think it can be a fun observation #so long as you do not inherently ascribe certain traits as being indicative of who somebody Is #it can be amusing when you're SO confident that somebody is a certain way until you realize how Wrong you were #the amusement for me only comes because it's like... 'you tried your best to box somebody and you FAILED lmao'#and in a weird way it's kind of comforting because it reminds me that we all come into this world with bias that Will be challenged...#...so the best thing you can do is recognize those biases and then try to overcome them through great effort...#...so yes maybe i did think that cis dude had tboy swag but. that's not inherently his problem you know?#it probably just means he's confident in his manhood in a way that reminds me of the trans men* i know and love #i noticed that in him and it reminded me of my friends who are trans so i think 'oh! maybe that's why he's giving off those vibes!'#so while i won't treat him any differently before or after finding out i was wrong i'm still going to appreciate the fact that...#...he and i are literally just Vibing on the same planet and we both don't have time for petty arguing about manhood #i'll acknowledge what inspired those thoughts in me but that is Not his problem and that's good and beautiful actually #i don't always mind the tboy/tgirl swag meme just so long as you don't treat it like an Inherent Trans Experience Only Trans People Have #just recognize where those ideas are inspired from and it's fine <3 #sometimes you will be Wrong and that's actually fucking neutral <<3 #anyway rant over i just think this is /generally/ harmless and fun #like astrology. sometimes you just look up your star sign without ascribing your Entire Life to it <3 #i think what i lot of people mean by saying a cis person has tboy/tgirl swag is just that...#...that cis person has an understanding of themself that comes from deep introspection that isn't necessarily expected of cis folk...#...but it is often something trans people do as part of our exploration of gender...#how is this the FIRST POST to reach tag limit... ask me for more thoughts if you want lol!

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hypewinter · 1 year

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Ok so this is based on @cyrwrites prompt of Danny being Willis Todd. A very delicious angsty prompt btw. Especially @faeriekit additions. Chef's kiss. Anyway, that got my little gears turning and I thought up an alt version. What if Danny was Jason's grandpa?

Hear me out: Despite all the hardships of losing his family and identity, Danny still manages to get a wife and settle down. Then the GIW tracks him down again and while he's in the ghost zone taking care of a few things, they break into his house and kidnap his wife.

Danny goes ballistic and decimates all of their bases trying to find her but by the time he does, it's too late. She dies in his arms and there isn't enough ambient ectoplasm for her to become a ghost. This is the last straw for Danny and he retreats to the Infinite Realms, sealing all portals and summonings (perhaps he's starting down the path of becoming Dan).

Unbeknownst to Danny, his son got dumped off in an orphanage (he thought the baby died with his wife) and is named Willis. From here Willis can either be the way that he is because his core is not getting everything it needs and that's causing physical and mental side effects or he's just an asshole with secret ghostly powers. Either way, everything from there continues down the path of Jason's story.

Flashing forward, after taking an involuntary bath in ectoplasm, Jason's proto core gets activated. He was mainly human with no ambient ectoplasm around before so his core was inactive while his body did all the work. Now that it's active however, his body is slowly but surely giving his proto core all the functions it was meant to have. The problem with this is that his proto core is too weak and can't actually sustain these functions. For example, he'll randomly stop breathing but his core can't take over properly which leads to him suffocating instead until his lungs take back over. Fun times right?

Bruce is getting increasingly desperate so when Constantine mentions the ghost king might be able to help but they would have to go to him directly, he suits up and says lead the way.

For Danny's part, when he meets these three men, he is confused for two reasons. How did they even get here? And why is the youngest one putting out a feeling of family when he should have no one left?

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #next thing you know i'll ve coming up with the idea that danny is jason's great-grandfather #or even uncle #don't tempt me #seriously got check out faeriekit's additions #they're amazing #unless you're sensitive to child abuse or neglect #as well as drugs or drinking #then you should probably give this one a pass #hyper prompts

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veggiecorner · 3 months

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Food for thought but what if the house in Hateno was just Zeldas at first? Link wanted to give Zelda a place to stay where she can rest without being reminded of her duty every 5 seconds (which was why staying in Kakariko didn't work) and he knew he's not the type to sit around and rest. He does want to stay by Zelda's side however, but also felt awkward about living with her. So he does this thing where he just checks in with her every few weeks/months but travels around doing tasks for the people. Whenever Zelda wants to travel he's immediately by her side, but once she's back in Hateno he's just "...okay see you later......" and leaves. Zelda wants to tell him to stay a bit longer, but is too uncertain to break that boundary between them. Also she doesn't really want him to feel like he has to stay by her side. She wants him to have his freedom.

But suddenly him being gone for 2 months becomes 6 weeks...then it becomes 1 month...then 2 weeks....then a week...and one day he walks up to Zelda and just says "...can I stay over for the night?"

And so the house in Hateno starts to feel a little less lonely from then on.

#I also find the idea of Link showing up the next day after saying “bye see you in 2 weeks” really funny #he doesn't know how to express that he misses her #link (derogatory)#Hateno house discourse is SOOO funny to me tbh #nintendo you know what you guys are doing you're making us lose it over a fictional house #and possible property theft #OH and zelda and link definitely write letters to each other #all the time #link will also drop lil flowers and plants with his letters to her #to be like “this might be helpful for your research”#(no he just wants to give flowers)#I LOVE POST-BOTW/PRE-TOTK ZELINK!!!! I LOVEEEE #Zelink

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wishmemel · 11 months

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jjk men tropes

Businessman! Gojo Satoru who’s forced into a contract marriage with you through no will of his own. you’ve watched him from afar for years (you could even go as far as to call yourself one of his admirers) but he’s never paid a glance in your direction. that all changes when fate throws a wrench in both your lives and has you preparing for a wedding that you neither want nor need. Gojo Satoru is incredibly good-looking, to his credit, but coming into contact with his arrogant attitude always leaves a sour note in your mouth. he’s nothing like you dreamt he would be in your head: charming, clever, and playful. where had you gone wrong in analyzing his personality? it was those deceptive blue eyes, wasn’t it? they had reeled you in and left you paralyzed, unable to pull away. so you’d made up a fictional world in your head with him as the star, and now that he hasn't lived up to your expectations, you’re finding yourself sorely disappointed. the only thing that can come out of this is Satoru's stubbornness when it comes to suddenly changing your mind, despite his previous nonchalance. maybe it's because he finds that it's not so bad having someone to come home to and eat dinner with and open the wine bottle for and kiss awkward goodbyes to. and maybe the two of you could do this for a little longer than what the contract had stated and maybe he'll give you a kid just so that he can have some memory of you when you leave and maybe he'll be able to convince you that he's not all that bad. (maybe he'll be able to convince you to stay.)

Tattoo Artist! Geto Suguru who has been your best friend since preschool. he’s reserved and shy, different from your usual types, and he spends most of his nights in, drawing elaborate sketches in his notebooks or enjoying movie nights with you. on days where you can convince him to come out with you, the two of you end up drunk at karaoke bars, singing your hearts out. it’s the first time you’ve noticed just how beautiful Suguru can be, especially the way he doubles over laughing after hearing your singing, and the way he outdoes you in every song with a voice that could drive women to their knees. he's not the type to say his thoughts aloud or even the kind to admit his own feelings to himself. if Suguru is good at one thing, it's running. but he hasn't run from you yet. he tells himself that he's just waiting for the right opportunity to let you down and leave, and he tells himself that it's not because his heart clenches at the thought of your eyes filled with tears, hands tugging at his shirt, begging him to stay. Suguru has been here long enough to know that everyone that you needed left the same way: by walking straight out the door without a second thought. so since you were kids, Suguru, only two years older than you, would look out for you like an older brother might, squaring up to the bullies on the playground in elementary and knocking out your persistent ex-boyfriends when you two were a little bit older. he wishes you would read his mind and make the decision for him. everything would be a little simpler if you knew what he was thinking and made him promise to stay before he could even take the first step to leave. (the same way a younger version of you had made him pinky promise on the playground to never leave.)

Boxer! Fushigoru Toji with bruised knuckles, various scars, and a set of washboard abs that you frequently dream of doing your laundry on. he dedicates his fights to you and promises to win in your name, regardless of those around you who call him a foolish romantic. his lopsided smirk, cruel and dangerous, is enough to shut their mouths as soon as they meet his dark eyes. knowing that boxing isn’t really your style, the two of you met at a bar where Toji worked part-time as a bartender and full-time as an arrogant flirt. it had been that troublesome smile that drew you in. danger was never something you balked from. rather, the opposite; it had butterflies swarming your stomach, unable to tell if they were from fear or excitement. it had you swaying on your feet from lightheadedness, caught between good for your heart and bad for your health. but when he takes you on his motorcycle, that seals the deal. it doesn’t matter that he refuses to put a label on your relationship. and it doesn’t matter that he refuses to make you two exclusive. what matters is that you wake up in his bed on sunday mornings and have breakfast with him until he has to leave for “business.” what matters is that you’re the only woman on his phone because Toji’s reluctantly told you that he’s an orphan. what matters is that someday he’ll call you his and that day will come soon. you know it will. you just have to be patient. (someday he'll say he loves you back.)

Ex-Lover! Ryoumen Sukuna who just can’t seem to let you slip from his fingers. he’s possessive and he’s obsessive, but he can’t let you go, and he doesn’t care what anyone else says but you’re his and god forbid you see anyone other than him. if you’re on dates with other guys, Sukuna will have them running for the hills with a mere glance in their direction, and if you’re a little frustrated by that, then it’s no worries. he’s here to cool your anger. he’s here, so you can vent your frustrations and tell him you hate him and call him all those names. he loves when you lie to him. he wishes he could hear it all the time. he thinks you’re so cute when you’re pretending to be mad at him and acting up for attention. oh, you’ll get that attention, all right. Sukuna won’t let you get away without it. then you’ll be on you’re knees, begging and pleading for a second chance, just like his pretty porcelain doll should be doing. he’ll hold you tight and whisper fervent promises of how he’ll never let you go ever again. and it's so romantic in his head; picturing the fear that'll widen those doe eyes, the shortness of breath you'll feel when he tells you his plans like a cliche villain, the irregular beats of your heart that he'll relish in hearing. you know he’ll never ever let you escape from his fingertips like that again. and you'd sooner kill yourself than be stuck with Sukuna a second time but he doesn't know that. (if he did, he'd burn the entire world to bring you back.)

Colleague! Nanami Kento who is so uptight that you can’t help teasing him on every off chance that you two find your paths crossing (which happens to be more and more frequently these days, you must admit.) he’s been in love with you since the day you stepped into the office, your sharp look matching the sleek dress pants that you wore that day, but hasn’t yet found a way to express it yet, other than asking if you liked love in your coffee the first day that you’d been assigned a desk beside his. you’d given him a blank stare that he seems to have interpreted as a death glare and he’d profusely mumbled apologies under his breath, vowing never to speak to you or look in your direction again. however, somehow, through some magic, you’d both reached this in-between point of talking where you weren’t quite friends yet, but you were definitely acquaintances. acquaintances and colleagues and why was he so desperate to put a label on his relationship with you? he's always been able to draw the line first and maintain his professionalism, but you're always leaning over to laugh at jokes that your other colleague makes and he thinks it's so distracting the way your eyes light up and crinkle at the corners. and one day Kento finds that he suddenly has a great sense of humour and a penchant for making you laugh the way your other coworker could never. (it's not a competition. but if it was... Kento would win in a heartbeat.)

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