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#if this is a new hyperfixation god help us all

attleboy · 6 months

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sorry about the pomni rt spam... is what i would say if i had more than 1 follower. i am not sorry clowngirl be upon ye

#me chat.#you can expect this for the next few days #at least #if this is a new hyperfixation god help us all #the amazing digital circus

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kamaluhkhan · 3 months

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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.

“what? n-no!”

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.

it just didn't seem fair.

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.

every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.”

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.

“she deserved more.”

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do.

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.”

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.

the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse.

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.”

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?”

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?”

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?”

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.

everything was falling into place.

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”

“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet.

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!

would you hate him, if you knew?

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

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medusas-graveyard · 6 months

Text

Someone you used to know.

Concept:

an AU where after Danny's parents find out the truth about his biology, they turn their weapons against him; affectively leaving him no choice but to run away. There was no longer a 'Daniel James Fenton'; a child long dead after he was killed via electrocution. He cuts contact with everyone— and I mean everyone; only the god of time knows where he is. He turns to Gotham to start a new life there; under the guise of 'Danyal Nightingale', a homeless kid in crime alley, under the protection of the sentient city herself.

Enter: Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was quite the enigma to him. The teen basically knew everything about self defense, but Bruce is rich rich; Danny can't really understand why he would need to be athletic as shit for "self defense" when he's pretty sure he could've just hire mercenary level bodyguards. But he doesn't pry on it too much; because Danny understands that somethings are better to not poke around at.

They both grew up. Danny still couldn't understand Bruce. They grew closer, yes; but Bruce would literally... disappear. Like— for long amounts of time. He would ask Alfred for his whereabouts, but the butler simply shook his head, insisting that Bruce would be fine.

And he was right, technically.

The (now pretty grown) man would always come back, even if he was battered and bruised. He would wave off his best friend's worries with "I'm fine"s and "stop worrying"s that just fueled his distaste about Bruce leaving.

And then Bruce left, again.

While he was slightly annoyed by Bruce's constant disappearance, he can't help but just sigh in resignation at the hard headed billionaire. Bruce will come back.... eventually, at least.

He was right; Bruce did come back.

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

He was trapped inside a neverending nightmare.

Because they found him.

Years pass by and his whole body felt numb, numb, numb. He's always either strapped inside a straight jacket in an empty room or torn open like a frog in biology class, on top of a surgery table. He doesn't remember how to speak, what he sounded like, what food tasted like— how it felt to move freely. Because all he could do over the past years (decade?) Is silently take the torture if simply existing.

On a good day, they would let him dream. He dreamt of talking, hyperfixating about stars and Greek mythology— he dreamt of playing tag and cooking messily in a kitchen; all with a boy and older man whose face he doesn't remember. On those days his life felt a little more bearable; like it gives him the motivation to just exist.

"... there's no way you're named after a bird."

"....ne. What's yours?"

"Danny is a nice name."

"Hey, wh— HEY! Get down from there!"

"Don't be such a worrywart. I'll see you soon, Danny."

".....Danny"

".....Danny!"

"Danny....?"

His dazed eyes weakly focused on the familiar voice calling his name; the sight of a dark figure by the lab door greets his line of sight.

He's strapped on the table; chest still wide open as the figure rushes over him. He could hear their heart rattling inside their ribcage and their heaving breaths.

....no. this is all just a dream.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #batfam #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #dpxdc prompts #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #you're free to write Bruce's POV I'm hella sleepy rn

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bluesidez · 21 days

Text

The Love Lab presents:

One Bite for You, One Bite for Me

💗 THIS IS MY 100 200 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x AFAB!Reader

summary: One of the things you and Miguel bond over is delicious food. One day, you notice that your clothes aren’t fitting like they used to. Miguel is there to remind you how beautiful you are.

content warning: established relationship but they’re not married, 18+ so MDNI, non-Spiderman Miguel, LOTS OF MENTIONS OF FOOD AND DRINKS, weight gain, cycles, insecurity about body, alcohol, body worship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾), cunnilingus, lots of praise, a little Spanish (if wrong please lmk)

credit for art + dividers: Me! + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

a/n: This is actually the first fic I wrote when my Miguel hyperfixation came back in full force. I based it off of this video and a comment saying that girls are usually the ones that gain weight super quick in a relationship. Please know that gaining weight is not a bad thing, especially in this story. Relationship weight can be positive and food is here to nourish your body! Also know that everyone’s body is different. Our bodies will react to things in different, unique ways. If you’re ever feeling icky about your weight/health, please take a step back, breathe, and know that you’re beautiful no matter what. There are also sources out there that can help you if your thoughts overpower your heart. Please don’t hesitate to seek help.

word count: 4.3k

To all my food-lovers and fellow plus-size girlies, kisses to you! You’re beautiful!

SPRING 🥭

“Baby!”

You grinned as you heard Miguel’s shout from the front door. His voice had a giddy tilt as if he made a breakthrough in one of his projects.

“I was finally able to stop by the new Jamaican spot before they sold out and look what I got us,” Miguel says before he slides the take-out bags across the table. “Ribs, oxtails, rice and beans, mac, and your favorite…fried plantains!”

You quickly untie the bags, happy to have a break from your research paper, and immediately get hit with the smell of spices both sweet and savory. “Oh my god! That looks incredible.”

After frantically digging around for a plastic fork, you were finally able to pull a piece of meat off the oxtail. It looked mouth-watering and tender. One bite of the meat and you’re immediately groaning, slumped in your chair. You nod your head and scrunch your face, watching as the juice from the gravy soaks into the pieces of rice stuck at the bottom of the take-out plate.

“That is so fucking good, Mig. No wonder there’s never any combos left by the time you leave work.”

Miguel just watches you eat with a glint in his eyes, happy to see you so relaxed and enjoying the food. He reaches into the second bag, pulling out two bottles of juice, “And to make it better, I got their fruit juice, made fresh daily-”

“Passionfruit and mango flavor!” Your eyes got big as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew how much of a juice fanatic you were, so this drink was just the cherry on top of the large ice cream sundae that was your generous boyfriend.

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled and gave his cheek a fat smooch. You patted his chest twice and moved back to set up the table, “Now, hurry and wash up so we can eat this before it gets cold! We’ve got shows to watch.”

“Entendido, I’ll be right back”

SUMMER 🍦

You and Miguel were walking hand in hand along the Cancun Hotel Zone, taking in all the sights. Miguel’s job had given him a promotion along with an extremely high bonus, so what better way to celebrate than to use his PTO and bring the love of his life on vacation?

Granted, the area you guys were currently in was a little touristy, borderline bougie, but it was all worth it when Miguel got to see your eyes light up as you watched the turquoise waves fade into white foam along the shoreline.

You wobbled a bit while clinging to Miguel’s side, a little tipsy from the frozen paloma you drank to pair with today’s lunch. It was a waterfront restaurant with a live band so the vibes were just right for a little bit of liquid fun.

The downside was that the two of you were supposed to meet up with Miguel’s family later that evening and while you were fine with the confidence boost you were sporting, you wanted to be more alert when speaking with loved ones. Plus, you needed to give a good impression to the relatives you hadn’t met yet. It will be nice to put a face to the names of Miguel’s childhood.

“What do you say we stop and get some ice cream?” Miguel suggested, chuckling at you when you grinned up at him, ecstatic over the proposed plan.

“You know me so well,” you said, arms reaching around his waist, face squished into the side of his chest. “I would absolutely love some ice cream. Cool me down from the inside.”

Miguel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. You were especially cute when you got like this.

FALL 🍕

“Baby, check this out,” Miguel shouted, finally returning to your table with your food.

The fair was packed full of people, especially due to the pop-up food truck festival happening that same week. You had never seen more people run to get fried turnip greens and loaded fries in your life.

Still, this was just another chance to hang out with Miguel. You really didn’t care where you went with him, as long as you got to see that pretty smile.

You look down at the table and see what he brought back. Before your eyes sat the most un-Miguel order ever: birria pizza and two walking tacos, one Hot Cheetos and the other Dorritos.

“Dorilocos, Miguel. Really?” you raised an eyebrow watching him try to steady the open chip bags over some spread-out napkins.

“Amor, don’t look at me like that! I had to get them because Gabriel kept talking my ear off about this new food truck that made them better than the ones we used to eat on our trips back home. I, for one, don’t believe that for a second, so what better way to test that theory than to eat it with my baby?” Miguel gave the saddest look he could muster and slid his hand across the table, trying to convince you to indulge with him.

“Fine, fine. Don’t give me that look,” you say, pulling off a slice of the pizza, making the cheese stretch as long as you can. “Just don’t complain to me from the bathroom while your stomach fights to digest something it hasn’t had in over a decade!”

Miguel pursed his lips while shoveling as much food as he could on one Doritto, “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? That’s a lot of cheese, babe.”

“Oh my god, some queso tears up my stomach one time and you can’t let that go, can you?”

“It was once and yet you were in agony about it for days. I think I’m allowed to remind you at least monthly.”

“Just eat your food and leave me and my iron stomach alone. We’ll see what happens between today and tomorrow,” you quip, pulling your phone out ready to record Miguel’s reaction to send to Gabriel.

Miguel takes a bite and just leans against the table, head slumped on his clean head.

“Dios mio, he was right. This can’t be happening,” he groaned, slightly annoyed that Gabriel wasn’t exaggerating. He was also shocked at the fact that someone even came close to getting the local snack right.

You giggled behind your phone, happy that his reaction worked in your favor. You zoomed in a little more on his face, capturing him smacking his lips and licking off excess sauce. He was so zoned in on his food that he didn’t even notice you with your phone up.

“Is it good, Mig?” you asked, mirth in your voice.

He looked at you ready to answer but his eyes snapped to your camera and started to whine, “Amor, please stop recording!”

With a small smile, you made sure to add the video to your folder full of Miguel. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just look so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Miguel just mumbled to himself while stacking up another chip, neck heated over the interaction. “Here, just try this,” he said, holding a nacho close to your mouth.

You opened your mouth, just barely getting the chip in. Cupping your hand under your head, you begin to hum, the flavors all tangy, spicy, and savory. “I don’t know what your childhood Dorilocos tasted like, but this is really freaking good.”

“Just know that this one is only slightly better. By 0.00001% to be exact,” he said, rubbing sauce off of the corner of your lips and licking it off. The movement was muscle memory for him as he always liked to watch your face when you ate food, especially when it came to any nostalgic or homecooked dishes you never tried before. It warmed his heart to see you find comfort in his favorite foods.

“Well, I can tell you it’s 100% better than the ‘Taco Tuesday’ luncheon my job hosted last month. Nothing but unseasoned ground beef, endless black olives, and store-bought guacamole for two hours,” you respond, shuddering at the memory of soppy taco shells and your coworkers complaining about how spicy the mild salsa was.

“On second thought, this is absolutely a step up. Was the guacamole name brand at least?” He asked, peering up at you with a twist on his lips.

“I’m pretty sure it was a grocery store brand, so no.”

“Damn.”

WINTER 🍫

You were at your apartment in your bed, completely covered under the comforter with a fluffy blanket on top.

It was snowing heavily outside and you were freezing. However, your heater tended to make your apartment feel like a sauna, so you kept snatching the blanket off only to put it back on minutes later. Plus, your cycle was here. Your cramps left you lying on your side, rolling back and forth between the cool side of the bed and the warm side.

Physically, you were exhausted, but mentally, you knew you had so much to get done.

Christmas was just around the corner but you still had so many presents left to buy and wrap. Your job was doing the dreaded Secret Santa gift exchange and you were stuck wondering what gift would appeal to the stuck-up director in the accounting department.

You and Miguel were also hosting a small Christmas party amongst your friends, and there was still food left to buy. To top it all off, you were worried about your gift for Miguel, wondering if a silly little apron saying “Kiss me, I’m Irish” would hide the fact that you spent a ridiculous amount of money on some new tech he was eyeing.

You heard the apartment door open and close.

Knowing it was Miguel, you groan out dramatically.

He opens the bedroom door and peaks inside, “Baby?”

You just groan out again, “Everything hurts, Miggy.”

He comes up to bed and sits on the edge, “I know, amor. I’m sorry.” He bends down to kiss your head. “Want me to plug up the heat pack?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into his hands. When he gets up to grab the pack, you whine at his absence.

“I know, I know. I’m coming back,” he says, voice soothing.

Instead of turning the pack on, he removes your covers and sits back down on the edge. You shiver a little bit and he’s quick to cover your body with his, rubbing the top of your head as he kisses your temple.

“Are you feeling too bad to eat something for me?” Miguel asks, the timber of his voice settling you.

You shake your head and lean in closer to him.

“I think I want some food,” you reply, squeezing his body. “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Miguel tuts as he sits up and pulls you up with him, “That’s no good, baby. You have to eat so you can feel better. Your body needs it.”

You groan again and put your face in his neck, not wanting to move.

“Come on,” Miguel says, rubbing you from your back to your leg. “I got you some soup and a grilled cheese.”

“Did you get the stuff for the hot chocolate bar? For the party?” you whisper.

“Mm hm. Jumbo marshmallows included.”

You nuzzle his neck before you look at him, “Carry me to the kitchen?”

He makes a swift move to wrap your legs around his body and hike you up.

He gets up and holds you close, heading to the kitchen, “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”

SPRING 🍇

The short spring break trip that Miguel surprised you with has been lovely. Miguel woke you with kisses down your body, taking you to the hilt with his mouth alone. You had to muffle your cries as to not disturb the neighbors in the inn. As his tongue danced inside of you, you gripped his hair with one hand and his head with your thighs. Miguel wouldn’t want it any other way.

After his first course, Miguel treated you to breakfast on the balcony. You two enjoyed looking over the horizon as you ate yogurt parfaits and fluffy omelets.

Later on, the two of you enjoyed a few tours of the vineyard and the city. The sights were beyond compare and the atmosphere was serene.

“Thank you so much for this Miguel,” you say, interrupting the silence.

“Anything for my lady,” he says back. “You’re doing great work this semester so you need the break.” Miguel stopped and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You leaned up and kissed him, hands warm on the sides of his face.

You both started to makeout for so long that Miguel forgot about the massage he had planned for you before tonight’s farm-to-table dinner.

Needless to say, he laid you out on your bed and oiled your body down. Your head was in your arms as rubbed his hands up and down your back. His hands were heaven and you felt like puddy by the time he flipped you over.

After he massaged your inner thighs he pounded you into the mattress. Something you’re sure the hired masseuse would never be able to do.

Miguel joked and called it the Miguel Magic Massage when you asked if he offered this special regularly. The price? Being his cariño, his amor, his sweetheart.

By the time dinner started, you were glowing. You felt adored and the courses were amazing.

Miguel made sure everyone knew you were his. His hand never left your thigh the entire meal, staring down the older men sitting at the end table who were looking a little too long at the dip of your dress.

You were oblivious, feeding Miguel bites occasionally and humming at how fresh and delicious everything was.

After the last course was over, the men came to you all’s side of the table quickly. All of them started to make conversation with you, plugging in their businesses, and stuffing their business cards in your hands.

It was as if Miguel was invisible. He scowls deeper when they let out hearty laughs at something you said.

“Are you fellas here with your wives?” Miguel asked loudly, completely irritated. “My wife and I have really enjoyed our time here. It’s a beautiful place for couples.”

Some of the men went red in the face flustered at Miguel catching their scheme. Others just scowled, pissed off at being interrupted.

None of them could answer his question.

You looked at Miguel, eyes heavy and relaxed.

“You gentlemen have a great night,” you said, putting your hand in Miguel’s as he guided you to the exit.

“Your wife, huh?” you asked, core on fire. It was hot watching Miguel get so worked up over you.

“Baby, they were looking at you like you were some fresh meat. Like I wasn’t even sitting there,” he grumbled.

“One of them already offered to bring me on a cruise. He’s staying right next to us,” you say, standing outside your room as Miguel swipes his card at the door. You walked your fingers up his chest, heated over the grit you could see from his profile.

He was oh so upset.

“He’s next to us? Right here?” Miguel asked, voice low.

You nodded as you bit your lip, arm around his neck.

Miguel picked you up and dragged you to the bed. You giggled a little to yourself as he plopped you down. Mission accomplished. Silently, you thank those older men. If it weren’t for their overconfidence, Miguel wouldn’t have been tearing at your clothes like he us right now.

Miguel kept you up almost that whole night, making sure that the neighbors heard your cries. Those old geezers were sure to know his name by the next morning. Buying you a ring wasn’t enough. He needed a bat.

It was all worth it to see the tired and flushed looks of their faces when you all checked out the next day.

SUMMER 🍯

“What the fuck,” you mumble, looking down at the pair of jeans you were trying to put on.

It was early morning. You had a family reunion that you and Miguel would take a bit of a drive to get to.

You made sure that everything was packed the following night. Some clothes to stay for a few days, a few snacks for the road, a book for you to catch up on, and even a crossword puzzle book for Miguel.

You planned ahead. You were diligent. So why is it that when everything else is going right, your pants decide not to button up?

You pulled at the flaps once more, trying your hardest to connect the button with the hole. It fails as they slip from your grasp. You try again, sucking in your stomach as much as you could. You get the button to snap in this time, but it’s digging unbearably into your skin. The zipper fights against you as you try to pull it up.

You huff out in frustration and the pants snap open again.

Defeated, you let out a watery sigh and look in the mirror.

Your stomach was bigger than you last remembered, fupa a little more prominent. Your thighs were also a little thicker, the jeans hugging them a little tight. Your breasts looked a little big in your shirt. The family name stretches a bit more across your bust than the original design intended. Even your face was a little chubbier than normal. When was the last time your jaw was like this? High school?

When did you get like this?

You felt your throat start to burn, a sob building in your system. You’ve always been fine with your body, loving the dips and curves. Adoring your flaws and finding beauty in what society decides is not worthy.

You knew this. You knew that you were beautiful. Why was it so hard to get that thought into your conscience?

You felt the tears roll down as you peeled the jeans off of your legs. They were especially tight at your hips and you wondered how you even forced them past in the first place.

You didn’t know what to do. It was so hot outside, so you needed something comfortable, but those jeans…you had your mind set to wear those jeans.

You rummage through your closet in frustration, pushing and pulling the clothes across the rack.

By the time Miguel found you, you were squatting in the closet, hot tears covering your face.

“Babe, it’s been almost 30 minutes and we need to head out before the work traffic starts-”

Miguel stopped in the doorway as he noticed the state of the closet, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? ¿Que pasó, cariño?”

You wipe furiously at your face, sniffling loud as you hear Miguel push clothes to the side to get to you.

“My pants don’t fit. I don’t think anything else will fit either,” you say, stuttering out your words as Miguel gets to your side.

You let him pull you up into a standing position. You felt defeated.

Miguel looked at you and wiped away the tears that you missed. You feel horrible as your face scrunches up again, tears forming in your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Miguel says, hugging you close. “Listen to me. I know that this feels like a lot, but this is normal. Your body will always change with you. You’re still the same beautiful, gorgeous woman I met years ago and that’s not changing because you got some extra hips, baby.”

“But Miguel,” you say, voice so sad. “I feel like I just got those pants. And. Nothing else in here goes with this shirt. I’m scared that nothing else will fit-”

“And if that’s the case, I’ll buy you new clothes,” Miguel says, pressing kisses over your face. “If these clothes mean that much to you, I’ll take you to the gym. Let me work out with you, but until then, I’m loving your body as is.”

You stare at Miguel, heart beating at his revelation. He stared right back at you, daring you to question or challenge his words.

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like this. If anyone has ever let you feel insecure about your body, they’re an ass, let me deal with them. If I ever do anything to make you feel insecure, tell me. Yell at me. Question me, because as far as I’m concerned, that’s not me.”

He hiked you up on the closet island in the middle of the room. You shiver a bit as your naked legs hit the wood.

He leans closer, placing his hands on the side of you, “Now, let’s think. Don’t you have a pair of cargo shorts that match the ones I’m wearing right now?”

You whisper out a yes.

“Would you be ok with wearing those? I’m sure they fit perfectly.”

You say yes again, head leaning onto his. You could accessorize it perfectly. It would make a great couple’s look.

Miguel knew this much, he just had to get you to see it.

“I love you, ok?” he says, voice clear.

“I love you, too. Thank you,” you say.

“Anything for my girl,” Miguel says. “My beautiful girl. She’s just for me. I can’t believe it.”

Your heart beats faster as he starts to kiss down your body.

“Her face is so lovely.” A kiss to your cheek and your lips.

“She’s always working so hard.” A kiss to your neck and your collarbone. He pulls your shirt over your head.

“She makes me so happy.” A suck to your breasts as he unclasps your bra.

“Her body is beyond comparison.” A trail of kisses down your stomach, your belly twitching as his breath twinkles on along your skin. “Soft. Amazing. Irresistible.”

“Her thighs are my earmuffs.” A caress to your inner thighs. Your legs snap a bit, ticklish at his ministrations.

“Miguel?” you whimper out.

“I have to relax you before this ride. Can’t have you upset,” he says, kissing his way up your thighs to your panties. “May I?”

You nod your head, fingers grasping at nothing but then a flat surface.

Miguel was swift. He pulled your underwear down and kissed at your clit. You could only hold tight as he pulled your body forward and dove in.

It wasn’t long before you were shaking like a leaf. Miguel sucked at you for minutes, pulling a long orgasm out of your system.

He kneaded your thighs as you trembled around his tongue, humming as your legs squeezed tighter. That was the queue for him to go further, so he added his fingers to the mix, moving his mouth up so that his fingers could pump in and out of you.

It took all of your strength not to let your body drop off the other side of the island.

“Miggy, please,” you wailed. You wanted more.

Miguel looked up at you whining above him. You pull your legs up, holding your hands under your thighs, practically begging for him.

Miguel kissed up your body again. He was swift with removing his clothes. You still had to have these clothes fresh for later and Miguel was about to wear you out.

He moved to push himself inside of you, grunting as you gripped him.

He replaced your hands with his and pulled your legs up by his head. You balanced yourself on the island as he slowly started to thrust.

“So good. Just for me,” Miguel said, watching as your body moved with his movement. “Perfect. And all mine.”

You remained quiet, whimpering softly as he dragged against you.

“You heard me, hermosa?” Miguel said. “You’re beautiful. C’mon. Say it for me.”

“I’m,” you stopped, mind foggy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to respond when he was going so deep.

“Say it.”

You cried out as he snapped harder, “I’m beautiful.”

“That’s right baby,” Miguel praises you, bending further to give you a kiss. “So amazing.”

He praised you until you finished, squeezing at any of you that he got his hands. By the time he was done, your arms felt like jelly from holding you up.

He carried you to the bathroom for a quick shower, never stopping his reassurances of you.

You guys made it in the car an hour and a half off schedule, but it was worth it for the uplifted way you carried yourself throughout the day.

It was worth it to see you happy and healthy.

By the time you made it to the reunion, it was like you were born anew. You greeted your family with smiles and laughter. Miguel couldn’t help but to cheese watching you do your thing.

He felt his heart soar as you caught up with family. Your smile was the biggest as you were out on the floor line dancing your heart out. He was right up behind you when Outstanding came on. The song was really a declaration of how he felt about you.

You giggled as he crooned in your ear.

“You light my fire,” he sang, swinging your hips in time with his.

“I feel alive with you, baby,” he spins you around to him, a smile on his face.

“You blow my mind,” he pulled you out and back in.

“I’m satisfied,” you squeal as he spins you in the air and puts you back down to keep dancing.

Outstanding. You really knock him out.

Another season where Miguel adored you more.

Another season where Miguel wanted you to be forever his.

Another season where he made sure he fed you well.

Another season of you making his heart pound.

Another season of your love reaching to the fullest.

Miguel was excited for the next season with you.

As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! 💗

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Let me know how you feel! 🥺🧁

Until next time,

-Lauro 💗

#love lab fics 🧫#to the lab testers 🩻#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x plussize!reader #miguel o’hara x chubby!reader #miguel x reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel spiderverse

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critterbitter · 3 months

Note

HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

#critterbitter #ask #mailbox

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thelastpuppyboygirl · 1 month

Text

YES !! YES !!!!!! AHAHAAAA YESSSS !!!!

my personal headcannons for the loveliest of lovely little guys <3333

extra info + flags!!

randy: (pan and agender)

-fibromyalgia for sure, trauma does shit things

-probably needs a cane or something similar to aleviate pain (doesn't think he's ill enough to need one, absolutely is)

-if he gets high please treat him like a fish in an aquarium, probably would hate the lack of control

-flushes really easily, and constantly clammy

-if you put a blanket on his head he'll fall asleep

-narcolepsy

-loves the feeling of a nice, heafty, soft quilt and a hot cocoa on a cold afternoon...

oliver: (trans, gay and demiromantic!)

-has a stuffed animal collection 100%

-probably picks up a million different projects only to put them down, a new hyperfixation every week kinda guy

-him being a stoner is basically cannon but, in specifics he seems like a bong or joint guy to me, would let u smoke the first hit (bc he's nice)

-rollerskate date :]

-glasses to at least semi help his shit 'eye' (optical sensor) and lack of depth perception (they can only do so much though)

karen: (nonbinary, lesbian)

-doesn't particularly care about gender as a concept

-has a bunch of tassles and cords in her house she has braided

-can't keep a plant alive to save her life, has mourned at least 20 house plants, has a fake one (somehow dies too)

-mitski.

-the biggest sweet tooth out of the group

-will lock herself away for hours and hours, sometimes an entire day or two, just creating. only to come out of a hole haggard and exhuasted with her New Horse Drawing.

-hEDS, uses a walker to get around!

Norm: (questioning/bi ?)

-writer (how the hell else wouldn't he go absolutely bonkers all alone, other than having a goal and spite i guess)

-uses coffee to live, but definitely enjoys tea in his free time

-probably learned archery at some point

-whittles little sculptures to pass the time (made karen a little wooden horse sculpture once)

-randomly schedules cook outs/junctions when he's feeling lonely and isolated

-he would absolutely take the will graham route and end up with 20 fucking stray dogs out of a deep empathy and then wake up one day and realize the mess he got himself into.

-grilldad. (duh)

phonegingi: (genderfluid, polyamorous, pan)

-gender? yes.

-sexuality? yes.

-will consume your clothes if you are not careful with your gingi Care instructions. (taking little nibbles is okay as a treat)

-if weed is consumed it basically acts as a horrifically strong catnip, and it will get the zoomies and make it everyone's problem

-purrs

-pays really good attention to detail stuff, and its brain is basically a filing cabinet. but big events are basically a blur

-gets SUPER !! fluffy during the winter and there's an awful period where it's shedding and it's...super patchy and silly lookin

-me and the bitches i pulled by being HORRIFYING and lovely,,,,

bigfoot: (aroace. i don't take criticism.)

-banana,,,

-genuinely pretty attentive and smart

-becomes a painter because he is INSPIRED ! by his friend karen

-absolutely splendid lad

-i wanna live in a world where one of his passions is making and wearing silly hats, please, PLEASE

-karen showed him mitski,,,god help him he's sad now

-knitting,,,he knit giant banana,,,,

#dialtown fanart #randy jade #oliver swift #karen dunn #norm allen #phonegingi #bigfoot dialtown #dialtown #dialtown hc

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Note

Yoooo idk if you know what my hero academia is but what about a batsib( platonic) who’s a lot like dabi. Abused all there life has blue fire burns all over them. Abnormal body heat. Who would be more interesting in the fire? Who would help batsib take care of there burns. HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE STABLES COMING OFF!!!

Just the amount of chaos has me foaming out the mouth.

YANDERE BATFAM + YANDERE TODOROKI CLAN x READER

I tweaked your request a bit and added yan todo clan into the mix if you don’t mind anon? if you rather a version without them then feel free to request again!

I’ll prolly do a part two of this to expand more on the Todo family, Tim, Dick, and Bruce but who knows what my ADHD will hyperfixate on next.

God can I just say that I love Todoroki Clan v Batfam fics. However few and far between they are so I’ll be writing this with a Todoroki! Reader in mind. Perhaps a twin of Dabi.

status: unedited

Humans have a natural, visceral attraction to fire. One can’t help but be drawn to its glow.

You were born as Touya’s (fraternal) twin except your power didn’t have to rely on emotions.

You burned the day you were born. Hurting your mother in the process. Scalding her skin as she desperately tried to feed you despite the danger it meant to her well-being.

In spite of her growing hatred for her husband, you managed to sear your way into her heart and make your mark.

Rei adored you. You looked the most like her underneath all the flames and charred skin. She would coo at you while glaring at her failures. She would run her hands through your hair while the room slowly froze when hearing about that kid who asked for your hand in marriage.

You were her precious gem. A jewel amongst the icky, dark, coal the others call her children. She would do anything for you. Anything.

Enji had to admit. He loved you more than his ambitions himself. He abhorred the pained screams you’d make whenever you tried using your powers. Luckily, unlike his eldest son, you were much more susceptible to the idea of not becoming a hero. All of his attempts at another heir were all in hopes that you didn’t have to face the horrid world of villains.

Touya admired you ever since you two were little. Your parents would often speak of how he’d cry whenever you two were separated. Of how he’d wail whenever you’d get burnt by your own quirk as if he was the one who was hurt.

As you grew up, he grew distant. Envious of your flames that were already so strong. Angry that you born several steps ahead of him regardless of being his twin.

Natsuo and Fuyumi bore the brunt of his complaints. His parents were too entranced by your being so who else did he have to talk to?

It all came to a climax when Shouto gained his quirk. You’d never forget the hope draining from your twin’s visage. The flames that surrounded the two of you when he dragged you out into the woods only to take an attempt at your life.

As darkness consumed your vision, you reach out to your brother’s face and choked out as the smoke covered the two of you.

“I will . . . always . . . love you.”

You awoke to your parents in tears, the news that your twin’s body was never found, and your belongings packed in several bags.

You were to study far away. Have a new start. Where you’d forget your brother.

Gotham.

It was a place known for its crime rate, but Enji’s close friend Bruce promised he’d take care of you while you’re here.

You were greeted by one of his sons, Tim. He was around Fuyumi’s age and was utterly fascinated by your powers.

Through him you were able to appreciate your flames a little more. It was hard not to get close to him. You attended classes together, ate together, played together. He even made you equipment and salves that would ease the burns.

It wasn’t long before you found out about his vigilante persona and thus Bruce’s. But for the sake of safety (your own and their’s) you decided to keep that fact to yourself.

Dick often came by once in a while. It was rare but his visits started to become the highlights of your stay in Gotham. He was fun and energetic. Tim and Bruce were great and all but they always had an air of seriousness that reminded you all too well of your family back in Japan.

He’d often sneak you out and teach you some acrobatic moves. Through process of searching good old google about the Robins, you figured out he was Nightwing after a short while.

Although you absolutely despised them now, you couldn’t deny them their credit for reigniting your passion for heroics.

You started training on your own. Control was something you had already practiced in the past. You knew how to stop the flames when it flared up too much. But you never really got to the point of using it for attacks and combat.

You didn’t really get that far. The most you could do without getting suspicious was to ask your father for a tutor in self defense while only adding some of your flames for the extra damage.

Not to mention the fact that a fire based vigilante would definitely raise flags for the family you’ve been living with.

So you started your “hero” life without using much of your flames until such a time that you were able to either go back to Japan or move out to another state.

That’s when you met Jason. You didn’t know much about him at first. Only that he killed a bunch of the thugs that you were trying to handle on your own.

Without him you’d probably have been dead several times by now.

Thus you took it upon yourself to help him in any way you can.

From being a hindrance you slowly started becoming an essential asset to Jason’s patrols. So much so that he often would blow up if you disappeared for a week only to apologize profusely and buy you pizza when he found out you were gone because of exams.

Jason also made you discover a very important part of your power. While your quirk didn’t rely on emotions to be strong within itself, emotions still played a huge part of it.

And as he slowly placed his lips upon yours, a wall of flame sets off.

You never returned to him after that day.

Around your early adulthood, Damian was taken into the household.

It wasn’t that long before you figured out he had no filter and a lot of ego to boot.

He reminded you a lot of a cat. Your parents would never let you adopt one out of fear for you being scratched, or worse a cat barbecue so you often projected that childhood desire of yours to him.

So while he’d hurt you both physically and emotionally, you in turn would return whatever he gave with love and headpats.

It annoyed him to no end. Who were you to treat him like a baby? If it weren’t for your flames he could probably have you on the floor in a minute tops.

But whenever you’d disappear he realizes how much he enjoys your presence.

He was there when you came back after your encounter with Jason. Your burnt and tattered clothes.

He saw the news. He knew that you’ve been going out to save civilians with one of his predecessors. He knew all about your past and your powers.

And he knew that from this day forth, you were never going to leave the manor ever again.

GENERAL BATFAM TAGLIST: @the-sander-fander

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weirdmorefics · 8 months

Text

I Don't Know Who I am Anymore

(Crowley x Platonic Reader x Aziraphale)

A/n- Sorry, I haven't been finishing requests it's hyperfixation time and this time it's Good Omens. This also can be read as romantic or platonic

Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 1,183

Summary- The reader is an angel more like was and gets cast out of heaven. When they fall they happen to fall directly in front of their good friend Aziraphale's bookshop.

I never expected falling to feel so cold. I just always assumed it would be burning hot as the air pulled you down to hell. I never thought it would happen to me though. I shut my eyes tight and waited for the feeling to pass. I tell myself this nothing I should embrace the cold before I am forced to an eternity of hell fire.

I hit the ground with a huge thud and cracked the pavement below me. I feel like I can't breathe which is a strange thing I have always been perfect as an angel. My wings shielded me from most of the blow from hitting the ground but I am missing a lot of feathers which are now on the ground. I move my wings around to see what is left of them and they are no longer the shiny white I once knew but a dark grey. Just when I started to breathe better from the fall the shock from the sight of my wings left me completely breathless. I start wheezing uncontrollably and try to stand up my vision blurring from my tears. I whip my head back and forth feeling many eyes on me expecting many demons to be staring at the incompetent angel that couldn't make it in heaven but instead, I see a shocking amount of humans pointing electronic devices at me. I turn in a circle and humans surround all sides except behind me there is a familiar bookshop.

Some humans were asking me if I was okay, some were assuming I jumped, and others said I must be on drugs. Then a tiny human came behind and pulled painfully hard on my already sore wings and shouted "Mom their wings are real they are really real!"

At this shout the building from behind me door swings open at high speeds. I instantly recognized him as the angel Aziraphale he used to be my dear friend we even helped Job together. He probably hates me now because I am no longer an angel they probably sent me here to get tortured by the person it would hurt most from. I just wanted nobody to get hurt! All I said is why should we fight Adam he is just a tiny human, he isn't even fully grown yet. I just didn't want a war where all kinds of beings would die and now I am a traitor! I look at Aziraphale with fear in my eyes pleading with him to just let me run.

I try to turn away but he is quick to grab my arm and announce to the crowd, "Be assured this is just a costume for an advertisement of a new book that will be coming to my shop soon! We were just testing that? Isn't that right Y/N?"

I swallow hard and nod in agreement so as to not make the angel hate me even more. The humans find this as an acceptable excuse because they often will accept anything to explain the unexplainable.

Aziraphale pulls me the rest of the way into the building that is filled with shelves and shelves of books.

Another person walks towards us " What was the commotion angel?" His face instantly sours at my presence, "Who is this demon and what are they doing here?"

That can't breathe feeling is back I try to back up towards the door in preparation.

Aziraphale looks at me and back at Crowley "Surely you must be mistaken! This Y/N they helped us with Job!"

"I remember Y/N but they were an angel this is a demon," He states like Aziraphale is blind. He gets closer to look into my eyes "Though they do look remarkably like Y/N. The Y/N we knew though refused to leave heaven after the job incident for her guilt of disobeying God." He rolled his eyes.

I fall to my knees and beg, "Can we end this charade, please? I know I was only sent here to be tortured before my eternity in hell! By those I consider my only true friends."

Aziraphale's jaw lightly drops open in shock, Y/N is the last angel he would ever think of falling. He is stunned speechless and does not move.

Crowley shakes his head and immediately pulls me to my feet, "No, no, no there is no need for that."

"I- I have failed God. I don't know who I am anymore. I have no purpose in this world. I will no longer be accepted by Heaven and Hell will surely not accept me as you said I did not leave Heaven in decades and I fell trying to keep the anti-Christ safe and out of celestial affairs. I am no one!" I rant out so fast I can truly breathe no more I start wheezing and tears blur my vision.

"Crowley I am not quite sure what to do in this situation. I have never witnessed an angel fall in person." He looks at Crowley with uncertained worried eyes.

Crowley walks up to me but I hardly notice in my state until he holds my body still, "Hey breathe! Heaven is idiotic to let you go! You are the most loyal angel I have ever met and so kind it is nauseating. Heaven doesn't deserve all you have done for them and Hell doesn't deserve your kindness! What do you say and join our side!"

I pull out of his grasp still tearful, "Your side! Aziraphale protects the gates and visited me frequently in heaven! He is an Angel and you hardly know me!"

What Y/N doesn't know is that Crowley already knows he frequents Heaven to visit Y/N. She is a common topic among them during their visits to the Ritz. Aziraphale has always regretted getting them involved with Job because it made their love of God turn to fear making her scared to connect to humans and leave Heaven.

"Trust me, I know you Y/N. You have loved humans since day one when you praised Aziraphale for giving his swords to the humans and assured him it was the right decision."

I twiddle my fingers embarrassed "You know about that?"

Aziraphale pipes in nervously, "Yes, sorry about that. I may have told him since you made me feel so much better in my decision. We also may discuss you a lot… I have been worried about you."

This angered "Did you have doubts about me being a good angel and if so why didn't you say anything!"

"Y/N you have to know I didn't imagine anything like this happening. But there has to be a reason you ended up here and not Hell and it isn't to torture you. You are good Y/N and I know it even Crowley knows it. So as Crowley said join us in our mission to prevent armageddon and we will take it one step at a time together."

I take an unsure breath and look at them both, "Ok I will join you."

#aziraphale x reader #good omens x reader #good omens fandom #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #crowly x aziraphale #crowley good omens #crowley x reader #crowley x y/n #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #good omens

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nabwastaken · 3 months

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Behold! The Joey Richter family tree!

it's still sorta a WIP currently because I'm trying to watch more Starcanwrecked stuff to see if I can potentially fit more.

And now.. some.. headcanons and backstory about the family!

McDoon, being the bandit king ( ✌️) had a LOT of bastard children on his travels with Cletus. He slept around and never really stuck around. Before the events of TTO he knocked up a Cratchit, who got pregnant and moved out of the country in shame. There, the Cratchit family was made and when Owen moved back to the US the family was moved there.

Robert Cratchit is short for Bob btw

I imagine Bob, out of desperation, in this timeline would resort to.. extreme measures trying to save Tim. And by extreme I mean summoning an eldritch god.

Suffice to say, it did not end well and now Tinky has a new family hyperfixation.

Owen found out about Tinky through spy shit, on a mission to a little town in Michigan. Tinky saw this British bastard and was like 'descendant of the Cratchits? GIMME' and started tormenting Owen. One of the ways he did this, was taking the form of Owen's boyfriend.

The reason Dan's last name is different from the rest of the Spankoffskis is that he changed it. 'Dan Spankoffski' does not have as nice of a ring to it and he's a public figure. Despite that, he's still relatively active in the family.

Dan is not short for anything. Not Jordan, not Daniel, no. Its just Dan. And he is Danough

Dan and Ted both looked extremely similar growing up and were constantly confused for each other. It didn't help when both of them happened to start growing a mustache at the same time.

OT and Pete have a pact not to ever do anything similar in terms of appearance. Pete grows his hair out? OT will always cut it. OT starts growing a mustache? Pete starts shaving. They really don't wanna end up like their brothers.

OT is older then Pete, being around Lex and Ethan's age.

SPEAKING OF ETHAN he unironically calls Pete, Dan, and Ted uncle. The only one he doesn't is OT, who he constantly bullies and targets for no reason.

Dan and Ted were surprisingly close in their childhoods, and had this sort of understandimg that the other was the only one who got how they felt.

As they grew apart however, Ted secretly started growing jealous of Dan. How come HE had this perfect life and great job and great 'girlfriend' but all Ted had was this shitty ass tech job and being the sidehoe to his coworker?

Dan has never noticed this jealousy and still remains nice as hell to Ted.

Dan and Ted both teamed up on bullying their younger siblings.

Dan and OT are surprisingly close. OT comes back from college (He goes to U of M) once a month or so and comes back to hang out with his big bro.

One of the reasons Dan took up the volunteer counseler job was to keep a closer eye on Pete and make sure he doesn't get bullied. So far, it has not worked out at all.

Pretty much no one knows Dan is part of the Spankoffski family, so Pete has to hear Ruth talk about how hot the news anchor is and Ethan has to listen to Lex rant about her mom's stupid obsession.

Dan and Ted are LITERAL bastards somehow being both teenage pregnancies and their parents had Pete and OT when they were more ready. Once again, blame Tinky.

SPEAKING OF TINKY he loves tormenting this family but can't keep track of them whatsoever. Sometimes he'll follow one of them home only to realise that it was the wrong one.

Sometimes he appears at family reunions and people just assume he's someone's kid.

One time Donna was literally walking down the street and did a double take seeing Ted just casually flirting with the Greenpeace Girl. 5 minutes later she saw Dan while doing the show and was so confused.

The family is stereotyped as this slutty family of hopeless romantics by the town, which is secretly another one of the reasons Dan changed his last name.

How true is this stereotype? Well, you got both Dan and Ted being teenage pregnancies. Both of them being born on Valentines Day. Ted notoriously sleeping with half the town. Dan being on the same show with a woman who he constantly makes googly eyes at and is possibly in love with (the entire damn town ships them together) Pete somehow surviving being horny at the damn ABSTINENCE CAMP of all places. Ethan literally doing anything for Lex. Suffice to say the entire town has their eyes on OT and what shenanigans he'll get up to.

Which is why I think it would be very funny if it turned out that OT was aroace and will never experience those feelings.

Whenever they get together they like teasing each other about their love lives.

Dan eventually becomes the central target in their teasing, with them BEGGING to know what's up with him and Donna.

The family used to get together every week to watch their favourite tv show, Doctor Who. Yes, I am aware of the irony of the Spankoffskis liking Doctor Who.

They feel an odd sense of... companionship with the homeless guy from downtown. They don't know why, they just DO.

And last but not least.... Every single one of them eventually gets stuck in the Bastard's box. Doesn't matter how or when, Tinky will get them.

And that's about it! What do you guys think?

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lizaluvsthis · 3 months

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PART 2 HYPERFIXATION FOR SMG4: Mario looks at SMG4's browser history

Okay last one...(f-cking photos has a limit)

Previous hyperfixation (read first)

So it is true that SMG3 does torture SMG4's life by ruining his day(come back from the episode you used to be cool where smg3 said "usual")

Since the word "usual" is used from SMG3's statement after we learned from that episode where he "considered killing" him. Directly to smg4.

SPOILER...

Seems like SMG3 DOES love to put out a good show where he still makes smg4 suffer the most mildest things with apparent reasons of constant teasing for the man and Three just enjoys it.

(If SMG4 did things to ruin his life so badly, by smg4 doing so in purpose, then so should SMG3 WILL and would ruin his day back.)

Worst thing SMG3 would think of, is forgiving SMG4. Because why in hell would he do that after everything?

Not only... SMG3 hides behind his secret, and mentioning WOTFI 2021 where SMG3 said something along the lines with "try and make him cry" is and definitely puts on that SMG3 still concealed himself from his inner shell as his emotional break down to cover up the sensitive emotion he has.

And that it'd be so out of character and sudden to forgive smg4 just like that, he'd be in the usual doings of "Hell no f-cking way I'd do that just now, why would I forgive this assh-le for ruining my life?"

Because thats an emotional baggage for SMG3 to cope on, he livestreams himself on twitch to play random ass games for his stress relief because of him. SMG4 has been stuck with him for like- a decade now and this is sh-t ass ruining him

if you all shouldve noticed just now, smg4 hasnt apologized EVERYTHING to SMG3 yet. Because he wasn't sure how "emotions" and "actions" could play out from his character after he did those "assumable" things to break SMG3's dreams.

Thats simple. He's a very difficult man to comprehend with his own self thoughts, he's overwhelmed at himself to where it breaks him. If SMG3 is socially awkward to talking or making new friends, then so SMG4 is the one whos difficult to solve the problem with his causes (like saying sorry wasnt very easy for him to put out)

Cause all smg4 did was focus on his meme contents from doing what he loves, he broke three for being famous, and his cafe, with also his dreams on starting his own production, not to ALSO mention his damage to SMG3.

If smg3 would even still forgave him for doing all of that om purpose without even realizing. But to smg3, he didn't want to say he'll forgive SMG4 instead. He still recovers from each and everything from that.

Because he'd seen how fragile SMG4 is at this part. SMG4 could only rely with making his contents to get money off from youtube, to THEN paying the expenses for whatever waterbills, electricbills, his loans from the property he's paying for, foods from groceries.

Literally EVERYTHING.... he's been trying to provide and same this goes on with SMG3 where he started his coffee shop, the one who works two jobs as a twitch streamer and a cafe owner. (The reason why SMG3 gets money from thats how he could afford everything just by double timing his job)

Since smg4 doesnt know sh-t with jobs, SMG3 is up ahead him, smart enough to think. While SMG4's knowledge is a bit too unstable without any of his college experience since he didn't like school then he hates studying.

Studying helps you learn countless of things even tho its a hard challenge to try, you still need to learn either way to know bits of facts. SMG4 dropped out and didn't graduate from college, but did SMG3 continued college?

That remains unknown, but we do know for a fact he is twice as smarter than SMG4 and Mario. (God what a fabulous b-tch.)

The reason why college is important is that you can set a course of what you'd want to get a job you'd be capable of loving from. And knowing that SMG3 pays atleast too many stuff by marketing and selling or trading or who knows what from the internet to make him get that much of advantage to get enough money.

SMG3 improvised his skills to survive

And so if SMG4 could do the same he'd probably have the same braincells as his boyfriend/j

- (whoops I just realized that I moved the topic to college but eh-)

Anyway following on with our focused topic.

If SMG4 couldnt admit that he'd say sorry to SMG3, then there would be a constant loop of the friends not understanding each other.

I still have a feeling that SMG3 could almost understand, like he could see through what SMG4 has been feeling. But he couldnt show that emotion to four- it'd look WEIRD. for him. Better yet is that- SMG4 would most likely be the optimisstic one to show symapthy, but still- SMG3 is an empathetic man for SMG4.

Just so is SMG4 when he cant understand how his actions can cause consequences like smg3 for example, SMG3 didn't even do much damage to SMG4 after everything. Because what SMG3 thinks is that he- deserved it. Everything to him from what he had done to smg4- willl be always pointed at him as he only sees himself as the bad guy.

Like oh man- how assumable can smg4 be when smg3 gets something that he finally wishes to have for? Attention. And he's been the one saying "thats what we do for each other right?" When SMG4 did it his way while SMG3 has finally moved on. Like SMG4... I see you as the person who've been causing a lot by i mean ALOT. Of problems.

Four suffers because of this cause he never understands how relationships or just by general actions work, because he never had someone close to him to guide his way for understanding.

They both were literally born from a USB and then came down there to explore their new selves.

Not even once SMG4 thought about- "why did I do that to him? I should say sorry... If only I didnt destroy his cafe nor even his productions"

Its because FOUR WAS SO AFRAID. In repeat. Lets repeat this again.

Three cant forgive SMG4 because he's been having alot of thoughts from his head that would lead to the death of him.

And SMG4 cant apologize cause he's unaware of what would happen if he did. He would overthink about this... and better yet- Three's motions are unrecognizable so Four would keep on missing his chances if he'd want to say it. He wondered that if he told sorry to smg3, he'd be the one to blamed more and three would be more pissed. Because they both wanted to forget the past.

But the past is already apart of them, a memory they both went through together...

So... well- theres my fixating- :)))))

@b-r-i-n-g-x .

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizafixates

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oneshlut · 2 months

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Your Valentine (Veneer x Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: General Valentines headcanons for Veneer

Extra Info: Happy Valentines!! Hyperfixation on Veneer so why not lmao,, Takes place pre-canon! Since Veneer is such a difficult character to write for with reader inserts and whatnot, I tried to keep the reader's occupation and all up to interpretation. I'll work some stuff out if someone requests meeting and crushing headcanons!!

Believe me when I say that Veneer is an absolute sucker for Valentine's Day. As a kid, he adored making his own letterbox for the holiday in class, and even as he grew older, he loved giving Valentines gifts to his friends, and especially Velvet! Velvet never really participated in the holiday other than wearing pink, but he didn't mind.

As you probably know, he also loved being the center of attention. Being absolutely spoiled growing up, receiving at least five valentines every year, then upping the rate of valentines he received as a pop star by at least 1000%, Veneer wasn't taken out of the spotlight often. This caused him to become a bit of a brat when it came to receiving gifts.

However, Valentine's Day quickly became a bit of a bore without a real "valentine". The letters he received began to repeat themselves, repeating the same phrases over and over.. couldn't his fans be a bit more creative than just "be mine"? Veneer would rather just buy gifts for himself at this point.. which wouldn't be too bad of an idea. Ooh, maybe he could get those new pair of shoes he's been seeing everywhere!

His perspective on the holiday quickly changed, though, as soon as he found himself a valentine. Well--a future one, he supposed. Who could turn the Veneer down, anyway?

And so, we introduce you to the scenario. You were the one to change his point of view, you were the one he wanted to spend Valentine's with. Of course, he denied his feelings at first. Why would he even think about romance? He had a job to do! Which was to be famous! And sing! And.. other things-! Veneer didn't have the time to date--especially if he had to present himself as taken to the public.. Ugh, that was way too much work. Not like he was nervous about being rejected or anything, he wasn't allowed to be..

As of the week before Valentine's Day, the two of you were "just friends". That's what you thought you two would ever be. He's.. Well, you're sure he's got better options than you. He was famous, for god's sake! And you were.. you were sure he didn't like you back. And how wrong you were.

Veneer definitely got a lot more fidgety as the holiday was approaching. It started out with the simple tapping of fingers, to bouncing his legs, then to wrapping his arms around eachother (via stretchy limbs). This nervous behavior wasn't going to just pass over Velvet.

Velvet was used to Veneer being nervous sometimes--especially before a big show. It got annoying for her to deal with all the time, but this jittery side of him was extremely new, and suspicious. He wasn't his usual sassy self, and the thought made Velvet even more irritated than usual.

When Veneer was confronted by this behavior by his sister, he immediately shrugged it off. Stage performances definitely helped with his acting for this scenario. Outright denying his sister of his strange behavior--despite the video evidence of him fidgeting during interviews--he quickly changed the subject, drowning out Velvet's interjecting voice. Okay, now she was pissed.

Not for long, though. Considering their upcoming performance in five minutes, Velvet took a deep breath and acted rationally for once. Even throughout the performance, Velvet could still tell something was off about her brother. Whatever--she had better things to worry about than her lame brother. Velvet could care less, as long as Veneer didn't mess up their image or anything.

And with that, Veneer was in the clear. But still extremely nervous. It was now only the day before Valentine's, so he had to ask you today or never. Why was he even nervous? He was confident about himself in every way, the thousands of gifts sent to him throughout the week proved that he deserved to be adored, why wouldn't you think the same?

Well.. thinking of it more now, you treated him more than just a celebrity. You saw him as a person--someone with feelings, someone that deserved to be treated with kindness. You always brought that point up to him when Velvet would treat him poorly. The fact that he deserved more. He never really got your point--after all, Velvet was his sister! That's what siblings do, they fight, they tease, and they have to do everything together. If he wasn't what Velvet wanted him to be, who was he? Veneer didn't get your point until now.

So--that was the main reason he was nervous. You saw him as his true self, accepted him as his true self, and.. you were aware of his flaws. That's what he was afraid of.

Either way, he persevered. Veneer isn't one to back down from something, especially when he's already committed with money and all. That's right--he went classic! A rose of your favorite color, a box of your favorite chocolates, and the nicest accessory he could find in the most expensive-brand store in the city. Unfortunately, shopping for Valentine's items in public as a famous celebrity drags a lot of attention to him. He normally loved the attention, but going shopping without his sister wasn't a great look on the news. Especially when it would eventually track back to Velvet herself, who didn't give Veneer permission to leave. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

News spread fast in the city, so it didn't take long for it to reach you aswell. Hearing that Veneer was out shopping for a Valentine's gift for his valentine made your heart drop slightly. You shouldn't have been disappointed, it wasn't like you were expecting anything. Nevertheless, the thought.. upset you. Clicking your phone off of the news website, you put it away, sighing outside of his door.

It took a bit of searching, but Veneer eventually found you outside of the door to his room. Why would you be here, of all places? You also seemed to be pretty deep in thought, not noticing him at first. He tapped your shoulder, and you immediately jumped, snapping out of your daze.

Honestly, Veneer was the last person you expected to see at the time. You figured he would be off to meet his valentine, busy with someone else to confess and--.. and suddenly the pieces started to come into place in your mind. His hands twisted behind his back, the rosy color that covered his cheeks, and the way he avoided eye contact. With that realization, your face flushed the same color as his did.

Saying that Veneer was anxious would be an understatement. When he gets nervous, he tends to overuse words like a middle school girl, confessing with multiple "like"s and "literally"s. It's funny, don't worry.

And if you accept? Well, he knew that you would. Totally. That doesn't stop him from overreacting, though. At the simplistic words of "Of course", he immediately loops his arms around you multiple times. Again, via stretchy limbs. Overjoyed, you embraced him in return. Veneer couldn't be happier at the fact that he was your Valentine.

He'll deal with Velvet's fury later.

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donutwatches · 5 days

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MHA 2.24 - Katsuki Bakugo: Origin -part 2

Thank you to everyone who follows, reblogs, likes, and comments! You guys are the best! Now on with the show:

These two sure do have a complicated dynamic. It would have been easy for the story to take the more cliche route of 'poor victim wins over irredeemable bully', but it is taking a risk by showing positive elements mixed in with the difficulty.

You can see the conflicted feeling on Deku's face here. Bakugo has spent this episode being an unrelenting a-hole, but Midoriya persists in admiring him. Deku is an unhinged little sweet bean, isn't he?

Shut up show, you are not allowed to make Bakugo cute (awww, that little angry pout, his itty bitty tears).

Bakugo scrapping with 4 graders and winning is so *Bakugo* of him.

Nooo, it's a cute-off, I can't survive this level of cuteness, help!

Look at him, all sparkly eyed watching Bakugo being a hero and beating up the bad guys with the same fists that Bakugo uses to beat him up. How...inspiring?

They came up with a plan together! They are working as a team! Hallelujah, it's a miracle! Maybe there is hope! Maybe they can wi---

---and they are doomed. All Might has no chill.

Bakugo gave him one of his gauntlets! Why does that feel so major? This exam is great since tey are going to have to learn how to be more um, 'functional', around each other since they are learning to heroes side by side.

On the other hand, I cannot stop thinking about the gauntlet having stored up sweat inside of it. All of that teen sweat just sloshing around in there...ugh.

Dear God, I can only take so many death flags for All Might. You can't talk about how the kids are our future and than cough up blood. My heart can't take it.

All Might, please do not murder the kids.

He just tossed him like a bean bag, the disrespect. Definitely a desperate plan. Maybe if he throws him far enough, Deku might escape being brutally killed by All Might before the exam is over.