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harrysonlylover · 1 year

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A Family Guy*

Summary: Your Fiancée’s self control flew out of the window as soon as he heard news concerning your fertility.

Wc: 3k

Trope: Ceo! H

Warnings: Breeding kink .

A/n: i have nothing to say except that i’m ovulating.

Ceo H Masterlist

Harry Styles is a busy man.

He runs a manufacturing company that gained a reputation in the industry without any effort. Pleasing was nurtured from his love for pleasure and lust. He dedicated the past five years to growing his business and making sure it’s known to everyone.

Many CEOs who become important and have hundreds of employees under their hands, tend to sit back and ignore their duties now that they have people to do their job. Harry despised those types of people and would not consider them businessmen.

He loved going to his office every day, it was a reminder of what he achieved and will continue to do. He loves greeting his employees as he walks inside the building, making sure that everyone is pleased with their job and that dissatisfaction is nonexistent.

Working is not something that he dislikes, he managed to remain a respectful gentleman instead of loading up his work on everyone. Perhaps that is why his company is successful, every single person does only what their designated major allows them to do, Harry grants them fair bonuses and vacations and is a nice boss. The safe environment he created was a huge factor in his success.

However, without his own inventions, Pleasing is merely a name. The only thing in the company that is solely managed by him and only him is the sex toys. Pleasing’s fame came from a controversial ad where Harry appeared nude in a photoshoot with only his hand covering his hip. The more he was criticized, the more products he invented.

The ones he first began to make were the regular ones: dildos, straps ins, and vibrators. But everyone noted the shift in his inventions and how he came up with things that radiated pure lust. Little does everyone know that it was all thanks to you.

You and Harry met at his sex club, you had fun along with other members and that night was the best in his life. Not because it was an orgy, he’s been involved in many ones before, but your sexual energy had him mesmerized. He waited for you to return and asked you out, he was apprehensive of your answer and thought you’d prefer to keep things strictly sexual but when you told him you’d only accept if he made you cum in five minutes, he knew that he found his future wife.

After that, you became his inspiration as Pleasing’s name rose to fame and became the number-one sex toy company in the world. He created Panty Vibrators to tease you in public, long-distance sex toys for when he’s travelling, suction toys to watch you wither before him, transparent plugs that suck in his cum so that he can watch how his seed is stored inside of you, butt plugs with all initials but only so he can see ‘H’ sitting pretty at your entrance, a double penetration vibrator that he uses as a ‘warm up’, vibrating dildos that he inserts in one of your holes while fucking the other, and last but not least cotton panties with ‘Daddy’ printed on the ass.

Your sexual energies were connected on a whole other level, you were confident with your body and preferences but still encountered rude hookups from time to time. It’s safe to say that Harry worships you in and out of the bedroom.

Despite being a very sexual person, he also does not fail to show his romantic side every day. You’re glad to say that you have found your man, which is why it wasn’t a surprise when you said yes to his proposal after only one year of dating.

Recently, you’ve been both busy with a tiring schedule that barely allows you to see each other, but that didn’t stop you from at least cuddling at night or preparing breakfast for one another.

Harry is opening his first branch in another country and he’s been preparing for it for over 6 months now. It’s been sitting on the top of his head along with wedding preparations which is why you took over them.

Thankfully you and him communicate well, you also are aware of how much work requires him to be present in his office a lot. Harry vowed to you that after the branch’s opening, he will hire a few people to take over some things and help him run the company. He wants to dedicate his time to you and his future family.

He never tried to hide his desire to have children, in fact, he’s quite obsessed with the idea. He even asks you if the babies would look more like him or you, and what features would they inherit. You could see how he pouts at Bloomingdale when he spots infant clothes with cute little bows.

On the other hand, you can’t wait for him to impregnate you. You never told him that you have a breeding kink but only because you didn’t know of it. To think that he wants to pin you down and fill you up again and again, care for you, and be the reason your belly and breasts swell makes you go crazy.

Your fiancée, a healthy man in body and mind, who treats you like his own queen, knows how to manhandle you only when you want to, and goes down on his knees for you is also the man you’d allow to breed you at any given moment.

The wedding preparations were pushed a few months into Summer so that Harry’s branch opening would be smooth, but that didn’t stop you from taking a few health tests to ensure that all was well before the wedding.

Harry was to return home early tonight as promised, so you finished cooking his favorite dinner, cleaned up, and changed into comfier clothes on time right as he walked into your shared apartment.

“Sweetheart? I need a kiss.” He whined dramatically and you knew that he was going to pretend to be hurt so you could love on him.

“I’m in the kitchen.” You replied with a smile already forming on your face.

Harry followed your voice to the kitchen where you were moving the chicken onto a serving dish. You can feel his body moving towards you until his scent becomes too consuming and his arms wrapped around you.

“It feels so good to come home to you.” He mumbled as he breathed in your hair.

You hummed making sure to not spill the food as you hugged him back. Harry pressed himself on your ass making you let out a gasp. You haven’t had sex in nearly a week which counts as a year for the two of you.

“Baby let’s leave our activities till after dinner.” You spun around to face him, cradling his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

He began helping you by preparing the dining table, cleaning up, and putting everything in its place while you placed the food on the table. Harry spotted a prescription paper near your handbag and got concerned when he saw that it was from the gynecologist.

“Baby, Did you visit Dr. Martins? Are you okay?” He stood next to you with a worried expression as he awaited your response.

“Yes love it was my regular checkup and it happened that my tests came out so we talked and he gave me some vitamins.” You assured him as his jaw immediately relaxed.

“So all is well?”

“Yes, I promise, the vitamins are just a supplement. He even told me that I happen to be more fertile than average.” Harry was relieved to hear your reassurance, however his ears perked up at your last sentence.

“What did you say?” He asked to make sure you’re not pranking him.

“I’m more fertile than average.” You mixed the salad as you repeated your words, forgetting all about Harry’s breeding kink.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as you told him you could easily get pregnant casually while making food as you stood in his oversized shirt and no panties on.

He slowly walked over to you, with his hands in his pockets and suit adorning his body. His body trapped yours and he removed the spatula from your hands making you catch his attention.

“Did you just inform me that you’re suitable for breeding and expect me to stay quiet about it? Hmm?” His voice immediately shifted into the deep raspy version, the one that tells you he entered ‘Daddy’ mode.

You immediately realized what was going on as a gasp left your lips, you didn’t even bat an eye when the doctor informed you having forgotten all about the breeding kink. Harry stared back at you with darkened pupils as his hand traced your thighs.

“You were planning on hiding from me the fact that this cunt is fertile? That it can take my seed and give me a child in one year?” He cupped your pussy and buried his face in your neck as his tobacco vanilla perfume overwhelmed your nostrils. You had to process what was happening rapidly as you still couldn’t get over how the doctor’s news didn’t ring a bell for you.

“Baby it slipped my mind.” You panted as he pressed hungry wet kisses to your neck, trying not to think about how his clad ring hand can cup your cunt and cover it, reaching up to your ass.

“It’s okay darling, the only thing slipping will be my cock from how much I’m gonna fill you up.” Everything was now falling into place as Harry stimulated your breeding kink and you realized the importance of what the doctor said. You humped against his hand as you clutched onto his toned biceps that are bulging through his Gucci suit.

“Please put a baby inside of me.” You pulled him in as you began feeling submissive and in need of your fiancée to manhandle you.

“You don’t know what you’re in for. I’m gonna give you everything. Do you hear me?” The dinner is now long discarded as Harry picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist before heading to the bedroom.

You can feel your pussy pulsating and clenching around nothing at the thought of him giving you a child, he’s too indulged in kissing as he lays you down on the silk sheets before taking off your shirt and his suit.

“Baby tell me you want this. Do you want me to get you pregnant?” He whispered with his forehead against yours, seeking your consent knowing that you were off birth control and could be ovulating.

“Yes, I need it .” You almost cried as you felt Harry’s skin on yours with his hard cock leaking on your thigh.

“Oh poor baby, can’t fight your instinct to be a mother, can you? I’m gonna make you the most spoiled mother. Give you my seed whenever you want it, you’ll use my cock and take what belongs to you.” He sucked on your nipples with labored breaths as the wetness in between your thighs was now too much to ignore.

“Harry I want you inside of me, I can’t take it anymore.” You whined in pain trying to reach for Harry’s cock.

“I know I know, let me fill you up.” He guided his cock to your entrance, lubricating the tip with your wetness as his eyes darkened at the thought of your cunt flooding with his cum.

He pushed inside you, making you let out a scream of pleasure at the burn and feeling of fullness. Harry could never be able to get over the feeling of stretching you out, especially when he’s doing it to breed you.

“Fuck baby you have the tightest cunt. Will need to keep stretching you out so you can push our child out.” He groaned as your walls sucked him inside.

With or without prep, you were always ready to take him not minding the burn from his length. Yet this time, you could both feel something so different from all the other times, something was tugging at your heart, as Harry closed any gap existent between you and felt each other skin to skin.

“My girl, make me a father.” He was pleading with every thrust he gave, while you whined beneath him. The heat you were feeling where you’re connected along with Harry’s weight on you, his grip on your hips and tongue lapping at yours made you want to cry. Being overwhelmed with emotions never felt this good.

“I feel so full” You cried out as Harry kissed your temple going deep inside of you.

Harry couldn’t think straight when you told him how fertile you are, he saw nothing in front of him but your bump protruding from your sundress, your breasts swelling and lactating because of him.

His primal instinct came out unintentionally as he plunged inside you easily, as your wetness made him more feral. It didn’t take you long to get wet, and he’s sure you’re soaking the sheets from the sound of your shared arousal echoing through the room.

“I’ll put a ring on your finger and take you out to show everyone that I made you pregnant, fuck you over and over again till I don’t have any cum left inside of me.” He kissed your ring finger as his heart thumped against his chest from how much he loved you.

His plunges only got deeper making you gasp as his tip reached your stomach, while your legs wrapped around his hips prompting him to fill you up. You were both greedy when it came to physical contact, never getting enough of each other.

The veins on his shaft scratched the itch you never knew you had, and your walls kept contracting around him uncontrollably, you were already tight as it was but the squeezing made Harry let out a groan.

“Had to get it deep inside you so it can catch.” He pressed on the skin of your belly moaning as he felt the bulge of his thick cock.

“Fuck me harder... fill me up with your cum.” Your words were incoherent as your brain felt fuzzy from the pleasure.

Usually, Harry would last much longer, there were times when you’d spend the night in each other’s arms as you recharge your energy for more rounds. But now, the pleasure he’s feeling is simply too much for him, just when he thought that his stamina was tough, you casually told him you’re extremely fertile.

“I’ll keep stuffing you until I’m drained.” He let out an animalistic groan as he released thick ropes of cum painting your walls white.

His cum reached deep inside of you, while you moaned at the load he gave you, it was like his cock refused to let you go and was adamant about breeding you. You were sure that his cum is now soaking the sheets, as it leaked from where you were connected to your thighs.

“Fuck Harry that’s a lot.” Your own orgasm washed over your body from the feeling of his cum filling your cunt. Your nails scratched his back unintentionally as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Harry arched his back slightly, as he raised his hips and yours in a vertical position before placing a pillow beneath your hips. He prepped kisses on your face in between ‘ I love you’ and ‘Thank you’.

He kept himself buried inside of you, afraid that he’d spill anything. If he wants a baby then he’s going to give you everything. He would never be upset if it took many tries, heck it would mean more breeding sessions. But he can’t help feeding his primal instinct and giving in to impregnating you.

“You can pull out if you want .” You stroked his hair and kissed the pout on his lips which indicates how he doesn’t want to part from you.

He lifted himself slowly and looked down to where you’re connected as he reluctantly pulled out after asking you to ‘squeeze your cunt and hold it in’. The sight before him had him rolling his eyes as he watched his cum covered cock slowly leave your cunt that is swimming with his seed.

You immediately clenched your thighs together but there was simply too much of his load to keep that you didn’t even feel empty when he pulled out. Harry noted how the more you clenched your pussy, the more cum came out and leaked down to your asshole.

“Look at your pathetic cunt filled with my cum, you want to me breed you so bad don’t you?” He caught some of his arousal using his fingers and plunged it back inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets feeling his creamy cum flood your cunt while he kept fingering you as your shared arousal leaked onto his engagement ring.

“You should go the bathroom baby.” He lifted your body and cradled you in his arms.

“Just a bit more..” You promised him to get up exactly in five minutes as he held you and pressed kissed to your chest.

“I’m gonna spoil you and our baby so bad, buy you everything, and watch as you grow life inside of you. I’ll keep giving you babies for as long as you want, all you have to do is ask and I’ll have the world at your feet.” He mumbled sweet nothings, kissing your engagement ring and smiling at your necklace that’s holding his initial.

Harry was over the moon at the thought of starting a family with you, he thanked you for being the woman of his dreams and already the most beautiful mother. All that he owned in life whether property or assets was irrelevant when it came to you.

After all, Harry Styles is a busy man, but never for his family.

Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @greivingfortheliving @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @swiftmendeshoran @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @strwbrrydaydreams @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy

If your tag is red, it didn’t work :(

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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year

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I will never not laugh when I see someone say “Jaskier is useless.”

People have watched so many superhero movies that they think everyone has to glow or shoot lasers to have value.

I mean…sure, yes...he is useless…IF you consider the human experience of friendship, love, and art a complete and utter waste of time. lmao.

Just because Yen is magical and Geralt is a warrior doesn't mean that this is a superhero group. It is not. Forget about the Avengers and the Justice League for a second. Forget about Star Wars. This is not a team formed to save earth. This is not a band of rebels throwing off imperialists.

The Witcher is a found family. Their most pivotal decision is to love and protect one(1) child. Their most important super power is love.

Geralt, Yen, and Ciri’s biggest problems are that people want to use them as tools. People see Geralt as a tool to rid them of inconvenient problems without having to get their own hands dirty. They see Yen as a tool to amass power, and they see both of them as rungs to use to get to the ultimate tool. Ciri.

Geralt, Yen, Ciri, these people are fucking exhausted. And I don’t mean they need naps (though they do). They are all that bone deep, hollow, exhausted that comes from having to battle every moment of every day to be seen as a PERSON. The kind of exhausted that comes from not being able to trust ANYONE because there is a price on your head.

Jaskier is their person. Yes it takes time to get there with Yen. But he gets there. He is their port in the storm. He would never turn them in not for any amount or any gift or anything. He is the person that they know beyond a shadow of a doubt does not give a fuck about power and who isn’t capable of seeing them as anything but friend shaped. Person shaped. They are his folks.

He is important to them because how do you even keep going with the world against you, without at least one person who just loves you for you? Who just loves your bad jokes and your navel gazing and who sees your prickliness for what it is? Vulnerability?

Wouldn’t you fold and give up without that? Without friendship? What would the story be then?

And for Mr Jaskier, that’s not even getting to the crucial deeply important cultural role that troubadours play in a world with no television or internet or data storage. It’s not even touching on his role as a narrator, historian, and world builder. And that’s not even getting to the 'art is an integral, crucial part of this fictional universe, (just like it is in real life)' part of it.

It’s not even touching on the fact that his “gossip” often turns out to be critical intelligence and his fame and political savvy are constantly bailing them out of trouble.

We don’t need to!

If you can look at Geralt *gestures at his whole deal* and not see that this poor man needs a friend more than literally anything else in the world...then I cannot relate. And if you can look at Yen and Jaskier or Ciri and Jaskier and not see how beautiful that is, people drawn together by the undeniable need for found family and the undeniable value of loyalty in a shitty world, then I don’t know, man. We are on different ass wavelengths.

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla fiona elen riannon #thinking about jaskier yet again #thinking about dandelion yet again #thinking about the witcher books yet again

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doumadono · 5 months

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For send me character(s) and a letter and I’ll write you a minific!

Please do A with Dabi 💙💜

A/N: I hope you'll enjoy this little drabble, my dear ♥ The inspiration for this ficlet came from the following post

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

The snowstorm raged outside, a relentless dance of icy winds and swirling flakes that threatened to bury everything in its path.

"This is just fucking great," he grumbled, his usual indifference not hiding the annoyance in his voice. "Who sends people out in this weather?"

"Tomura," you replied, wrapping your jacket tighter around your figure.

"We need to find shelter," Dabi said, his tone more serious now. "This storm isn't letting up anytime soon."

You and Dabi, reluctantly paired up as "team" by Shigaraki, sent on a mission to gather critical intel, found yourselves seeking refuge in an old, abandoned house that creaked and moaned under the pressure of the storm.

The air inside the dilapidated structure was just as chilly as outside, and the cold seemed to seep through every crack and crevice.

Dabi, his blue flames flickering ominously from his palms, took charge. With a sly grin, he ignited some discarded materials, creating a makeshift fireplace in the center of the room.

You huddled close to the fire, relishing the warmth but still shivering from the lingering cold.

Dabi, seemingly indifferent to the freezing temperatures, settled beside you. The fire's glow reflected in his eyes as he glanced your way.

"So, we're a disposable pawns with a mission," he snarled, a hint of amusement in his gravelly voice. So, what do you think about the League?"

The flames cast eerie shadows on the walls as you considered his question. "They're certainly… unconventional. But their goals? I don't know. It's hard to wrap my head around it. I find myself without alternative options. Given my history of misdeeds, the prospect of a conventional, ordinary life remains elusive, you know."

Dabi's skepticism lingered in his gaze. "Don't expect too much. These people have their own way of doing things, and it's not for everyone. Specifically, a young woman hailing from an esteemed household, as that seems to be the background you come from, based on the information I've gathered from Giran."

You only scoffed, rolling your eyes.

As the conversation continued, the cold continued to nip at you.

Uncharacteristically, Dabi sighed and, with a flicker of hesitation, said, "Come here, Y/N."

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled by his sudden shift in demeanor. Nevertheless, you edged closer, and he enveloped you in his arms. His quirk emitted a comforting warmth, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

"You're freezing," he stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing for him to notice. "Fuck, this is exactly what I need - my partner freezing her ass off in this fucking weather."

"I can handle it," you insisted, although your teeth betrayed your words with an involuntary chatter.

Dabi rolled his eyes. "Stop being stubborn, Y/N. Just sit on my lap. I can make myself warmer if I want to."

You hesitated, unsure of the unexpected intimacy. But the cold won over, and you found yourself gingerly perching on his lap, still shivering like a leaf caught in the storm.

Dabi's arms encircled you, holding you close. The flames from a fireplace danced in his eyes as he spoke, his voice softer now, "You know, I didn't expect anyone to stick around. My appearance tends to drive people away."

The vulnerability in his admission caught you off guard. "Well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, trying to sound reassuring. "And you ain't that bad, man."

He nodded, a subtle gratitude in his eyes. "Guess you're different."

Silence settled between you, only broken by the crackling of the fire. The warmth of Dabi's embrace began to thaw the chill in your bones. In that vulnerable moment, he hesitated before finally confessing, out of sudden, "I like you, Y/N."

The admission hung in the air, the crackling fire casting a warm glow on the revelation. As Dabi confessed, your response was a quiet smile that held a blend of sincerity and acknowledgment of his gruff demeanor. "I like you too," you replied, your words carrying a teasing edge. "Even if your gruff ass is problematic at times."

Dabi's rough laughter echoed through the room, a surprising sound that seemed to cut through the cold like a welcomed flame. "Yeah, well, can't argue with that. I've got my issues."

He shifted slightly, the light of the fire highlighting the scars and staples that adorned his skin. In that moment, he seemed almost vulnerable, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he often projected. With a flicker of curiosity, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You surprised me, you know?" he admitted, his gaze holding yours. "The day Giran brought you in, I was sure you'd last, what, two days? Tops. Figured you'd take one look at the League's shit and hightail it out of here."

You couldn't help but chuckle, the sincerity in his words catching you off guard. "Well, I guess I'm more resilient than you thought."

Dabi's smirk returned, a playfulness in his eyes. "Resilient and useful. You've pulled your weight a few times. I admire that, actually."

As the conversation hung in the air, he continued to study you. With a surprising gentleness, his fingers traced a path from your cheek to behind your ear, the touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

Shivering slightly, not entirely due to the cold, you found yourself captivated by the closeness. His scarred face, illuminated by the flickering flames, told a story of pain and resilience. In the dance of firelight, you observed the lines etched on his skin, the staples that held it together — a testament to a life lived on the edge.

Your lips parted slightly, breath catching as you observed him. It was a moment of vulnerability, a shared understanding beneath the surface of gruff exteriors.

Dabi's gaze met yours, and for a heartbeat, the world outside the abandoned house ceased to exist. In a bold move, he closed the already minimal distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as unexpected as it was intense. The initial contact was almost clumsy, a collision of warmth against the coldness of your lips.

Taken off guard, you hesitated for a moment before surrendering to the unexpected intimacy. The kiss was messy at first, a tumultuous exploration of unspoken emotions.

His hands cradled your face, the heat from the fireplace mirrored in the heat exchanged between you. As the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, becoming a dance of tongues in unison. The initial awkwardness transformed into a shared rhythm, a connection forged in the heat of the moment.

As the kiss finally broke, a warmth lingered between you and Dabi. You felt his fingers gently brushing against your lips, mirroring the touch of your fingertips as you touched them in a dazed realization. The firelight painted a soft glow on both your faces, and when you looked into Dabi's eyes, there was a tenderness that seemed to soften the rough edges.

"Guess I've got some surprises left in me," he muttered, a rare hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but return the smile, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his face, the scars and staples that told a story of resilience.

"Maybe I like surprises," you replied.

His hand found yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement.

As you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on Dabi's cheek, the fire continued to burn, casting a warm glow on the scene. The snowstorm howled outside, but within the walls of the abandoned house, a different kind of warmth prevailed — a warmth born from shared vulnerability, unexpected connections, and the sweet taste of a kiss that defied the cold reality of their surroundings.

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi boku no hero academia #dabi my hero academia #bnha dabi #my hero academia dabi #dabi fluff #dabi fic #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha dabi #dabi is touya #dabi fanfic #touya todoroki #todoroki touya

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spidergutz-writes · 6 months

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ANOTHER REQUEST..

Hc’s about jealous Michael? Preferably Peepaw but you can write for Og if you want. Im a whore for his jealousy.

frfr giggling and twirling my hair rn, your speaking directly to my brain bestie 😩🤌

I’m doing this one first cause it’s gonna be just a tad quicker for me to do ;w;

WARNINGS: THERE IS A BRIEF MENTION OF NSFW STUFF SO IM SORRY (I’m too much of a slut for that fictional man istg) not proofread, we die like real men here. Michael being hot asf.

HC’S of jealous peepaw Michael Myers!

Firstly, peepaw micheal doesn’t get overly jealous too quickly, but if a cashier does get a little too friendly, or some random person looks at you with anything other than casual respect? You might have to keep an eye on the news for missing people. 👀

*insert intense glaring and heavy breathing here*

definitely glares at whoever’s being too friendly with you. Depending on if y’all are in a crowded area, he might peak out to give the person a hello. With his knife. Preferably in their chest

if he can get the chance to properly go outside with you without the fear of revealing who he is, he is ALWAYS keeping a hand on you in one way or another. Like, his hand on the back of your neck, shoulder, bicep, and even your waist sometimes. He’s not the biggest fan of PDA but he won’t hesitate to let others know what’s his.

when y’all get to the safety of your home, he’s a lot more touchy than usual. Resting his forehead on the crown of your head, wrapping his arms around you and huffing.

once you get past his initial violent stage of his jealousy he really does get needy for your attention. I mean, you basically deprived him earlier, how can he possibly live if you won’t sit on his lap and let him hug you for the next hour??? How cruel 😤

HES fr such a drama queen though 🙄🤚🤚🤚

will NEVER verbally express his jealousy, for one, he just does speak that much all together, and two. He’s. He’s kinda petty ngl.

like fr. He’s just gonna be like 🧍‍♂️while your just like “Michael?? Are you mad at me???” and he’s sTILL JUST STANDING THERE. expects you to know EXACTLY why he’s jealous.

oh wow, all this nice and sfw stuff about how jealous he gets WELL LETS NOT FORGET THAT MAN WOULD POUND YOU INTO OBLIVION

you thought I wouldn’t make an excuse to talk about fucking Michael Myers? Well you’re wrong. Because we all know when that man gets jealous, he gets possessive . And what better way to show everyone your his?? none other than leaving so many marks on you someone would think you were attacked by a swarm of raccoons.

if you’d let him, he would 10000000% lightly (I cannot stress how lightly he would do this) carve his name in either your arm, or chest.

hickeys? Yes. Bite marks? You fucking bet. Bruises from his hard ass grip? Obviously!!!!!

ehem. Uhm. Now that I’m no longer feral, he would definitely need some small form of reassurance. Cuddling, hand holding, just general quality time together will work. HUFUFUUFUFUFUFU I NEED TO BE CONTAINED I WANTED TO MAKE THIS ALL SMUT BUT I MUST REFRAIN!!!! MY BRAIN IS ROTTEN! 😭😭😭 As always, please, please, PLEAAASSEE give me constructive criticism! I can’t grow as a writer to suit others (and my own) needs if I can’t write up to standards. my requests are open, as well as my asks, so feel free to drop by!!! [pls omfg send my more requests I’ll literally kiss you istg]

#Spider writes #michael myers #michael myers x reader #micheal myers #peepaw myers #slashers x reader #slashers #halloween

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cuubism · 1 year

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Okay but AFTER Dream dramatically storms into Desire's realm yelling "WTF did you do to Hob" I can't imagine Desire just...ignored that. They 100% had to go check out this human and see what is so interesting that Dream is all twisted up in knots over him. Can very much picture Desire swanning into the New Inn in their craziest Lady Gaga outfit already drinking a cosmopolitan and introducing themselves to Hob. Because Desire realises that rather than plotting Dream's downfall they can fuck with Dream INFINITELY more by bothering his immortal crush. It's the sibling instinct.

oh. they DEFINITELY will. and like. eventually dream explains his whole thought process, and the fact that desire has fucked with him in the past (hob: dear god why is your family so fucked up), and dream is basically like: DO NOT. ENGAGE WITH DESIRE. IF THEY TRY TO TALK TO YOU. just call me (he still does not have a phone so unclear how this will work) and i'll kick their ass.

critical point: dream did not in any way tell hob how to IDENTIFY DESIRE.

---

The person who struts -- it's really the only word Hob can think of -- over to the bar at the New Inn makes him uneasy, though he can't say why. Hob is not made uncomfortable easily, he's lived too long and been in too many scrapes to feel intimidated in his own pub, of all places.

But something about them makes his hackles rise. The eyes, maybe. They're too cunning.

But he's not in the habit of throwing people out on looks so he just offers a tight smile and says, "Get you something?"

He's tending bar himself, today. Gives him something to do between terms. And he finds himself strangely grateful to have the bar between him and his strange customer as they slide onto one of the bar stools.

"Cosmo, please," they say, voice like sugar halfway to caramelizing, a bit of pop and smoke in the smooth glide.

This is a bit of an odd drink selection for eleven in the morning, but Hob has, at various points in his life though thankfully no longer, done lines of cocaine before even having breakfast, so he really has no pedestal from which to judge.

"Coming right up."

The bar at the New Inn is well-stocked nowadays. Used to be, they served mainly beer and wine, nothing fancy. Then Hob made the horrible mistake of promising his students an end of term cocktail-making class if they came to all the exam review sessions -- because he does actually know how to make drinks, he's been alive for six centuries, thanks very much -- and now it's become a thing and he's stuck doing it forever.

Then Dream took to his drinks, and alcohol is no substitute for food but getting Dream to eat or drink anything is a bloody miracle, so if that anything is the bougiest mixture of alcohols Hob can come up with, well--

Actually. Actually that might be worse than nothing at all.

Makes Dream happy though, so what is Hob to do? Keep ordering luxardo cherries and elderflower liqueur until he outlives them, that's what.

He finishes shaking the drink under the heavy gaze of his guest and pours, sliding it across the table to them.

Hob feels like he's being sized up by a predator as they take a long, delicate sip. The color of the drink matches the pink of their blazer. Hob is struggling to recall if said blazer was actually pink when they arrived.

"Ah. You mix a good drink, Hob Gadling," they say, propping their head on their hand, looking a him from under their lashes, and, ah, so that's what this is.

Hob leans on the bar. "What sort of... entity are you, then?"

Their whole face brightens in what Hob thinks is delight. "Oh! So you are a perceptive one. Get a lot of entities in here, do you, Robert?"

"'Bout as many as can be expected. That's not an answer."

They pout. "Neither is yours. And can't a being just pop by the local speakeasy for a drink without being interrogated?"

"Seems a little unfair that you know my name, and I don't know yours," Hob points out. "Names have power, and so on, isn't that the thing?"

His guest studies him. "You are both far more normal and far less normal than I'd been expecting. Fascinating."

Um.

Before Hob is forced to respond to that, the door swings open to reveal Dream, shrouded in darkness and nighttime and vibrating with electrical fury. Shadows crawl up the windows. All the lights in the inn flicker out.

Oh boy.

"I," Dream says, each word a thunderclap, shining gaze fixed on Hob's guest at the bar, "Explicitly. Forbade. You. From. Interfering."

"What are you going to do, hit me?" taunts the other entity, leaning back on their stool, drink balanced in one hand.

Hob looks back and forth between them, wondering if he should fetch a weapon. He keeps a cricket bat here somewhere, surely...

"Dream, love," he says, once he's decided it's better to try to deescalate the situation rather than introducing further weaponry, "your usual?"

Dream nods, stalking over to the bar. His gaze flits briefly to Hob, softening, before snapping right back to the other being.

"I see you remain incapable of heeding a warning," he says, all ice.

"It's not really part of my nature," they say. "I see it, I like it... well, you get it."

Oh. Oh no.

Cautiously, Hob slides his drink over to Dream. Without breaking eye contact with... Desire? it must be, and thanks, Dream, for the complete lack of description, Dream picks up his drink and downs the whole thing in one long swallow.

Ooooooh boy.

"Desire," Hob says, and they perk up at his realization of their name, looking over at him, "might be better if you were going now."

Desire lets out a frustrated huff. "Ugh, of course. I certainly don't want to upset 'ole Nightmare here."

"You certainly don't want my fist in your jaw," Hob says, more audible threat in it than he intends -- but he remembers Dream's halting confession, about how often love had turned out to be manipulation, and he thinks he should be congratulated on his restraint, actually.

Desire just laughs, and-- ah, Hob is starting to see that there's no winning with this one. Even and especially when you haven't agreed to the game.

"I suppose I'll be going then, before the fists start flying." They slide out of their seat and glide towards the door, waving. "Nice meeting you, Robert! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, soon."

I don't doubt it, Hob thinks.

They take their drink with them. Hob's not feeling particularly inclined to chase down that glass.

Dream still hasn't moved. He stares after Desire, empty glass about to crack in his grip.

"Dream?"

"I said that you should call for me," Dream says, the ghost of words.

With what means, exactly? Hob thinks. Damned enigmatic shadow of a man. "You didn't tell me who to look out for."

"Oh." Dream finally snaps out of his daze. "Yes. I apologize."

"Come sit down."

Hob fetches a glass of water and drags Dream over to their usual booth, pushing the water into his hands. "Drink that."

Dream stares down at it. "Why?"

"Because you just chugged a drink you usually sip for hours. Drink."

"I will not get drunk unless I choose to," Dream says.

"Have you tested that?" Hob asks.

Dream's brows furrow. "...No."

"Then let's not do that now. Drink. Come on."

Dream sips at the water. "I am sorry," he says, slowly, "about Desire."

"And I'm sorry I didn't actually punch them," Hob says, making Dream look up at him in surprise. "Well. Sort of. Wouldn't want to make it worse."

A smile tugs at Dream's lips. "You would... defend my honor?"

"Always," Hob vows. "I'd defend you. Don't care if the devil himself has it out for you."

"That may well happen," Dream says.

Hob stares at Dream. Dream stares back.

"Oh," Hob says, or maybe just hopes, "you're making a joke."

"No," says Dream. "Lucifer and I are on poor terms at the moment. She may seek revenge."

Hob keeps staring at him. Dream meets his gaze evenly.

Hob scrubs his hands through his hair. "Lucifer and you..."

Why was it always like this?

When he looks up again, Dream is smirking at him. "You're a menace," Hob tells him. "One day, you're going to give me the full rundown of everyone who has beef with you so I can be prepared."

"That will be a long list," Dream says.

"Of course it is," Hob sighs.

Dream takes his hand as if he can comfort Hob through all of the insane interactions he's sure to have with strange beings in the near future. The worst thing is, it works. Hob squeezes his hand and immediately remembers why he's willing to do anything for him.

"I'd go to Hell for you," he says. "I'd prefer not to, though, if it's all the same."

"That is my preference as well," says Dream.

There's a lot Hob would do for Dream. It's probably unhealthy. But what's the point of living six hundred years if you're going to spend it all being healthy, anyway.

"Why do so many people have problems with you, anyway?" Hob asks.

Hob knows. Hob fucking knows why.

Dream pouts. "Matthew tells me my social skills are 'less than adequate.'"

That's one way to phrase 'you act like an arrogant dick 85% of the time.' Matthew should receive a medal for his tact.

Hob loves that arrogant dick, though, God fucking damn him.

"All the more reason to get me that list, then," Hob says. "Maybe we can prevent you from creating an interdimensional incident."

"Will you accomplish this by threatening to punch them in the face?" Dream asks, completely neutral.

"Okay, you know what? Fair," Hob admits, and Dream chuckles. "Perhaps neither of us is cut out for diplomacy. The point, though, is: of course I'd defend you. I love you."

Dream kisses the back of his hand. As if he's only just now realized what he's done to Hob's pub, the lights all flicker back on.

"Thank Christ, I thought I was going to have to replace all those bulbs."

"Do you think I would do that to you?" Dream says with a tiny smile, Hob's hand still pressed to his lips.

You've done worse than that to me, Hob thinks. Better, too. So much better.

"No, love," he says, "I know you wouldn't."

#hob just feeding dream fancy cocktails with one hand while he fights off lucifer with a bat with the other #'it's rotten work' 'YEAH IT SURE FUCKING IS'#this got so meandering this has no structure at all #in my head dream is the type of person who will only drink like. elevated stuff. like he is not just casually drinking pints at the pub #u feel me. and he never gets drunk. u will only catch him with an elaborate expensive cocktail or a fine red wine #or a glass of truly ancient scotch #dream's drink of choice at the new inn is a vieux carre not that it matters in the slightest #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #desire of the endless #the sandman #my writing #ask #merytsetesh

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molllsprple · 6 months

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Strictly business

Part 1

Well howdy.

This is my first ever written piece of fan fiction so I welcome constructive criticism, but please be kind 🥹 I tried by best.

I am simply a thirsty girl indulging in her mihawk fantasies.

Pairing: Female reader x Mihawk

Description: Sometimes the line between business and pleasure can get a little blurry.

Rating/warnings: Explicit 15+ (Swearing, injury detail, may get smutty in later chapters) Mihawk is a bit of an ass, who doesn’t love a good enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut in later chapters, stubborn mihawk, stubborn reader, no use of y/n.

The life of an assassin can be rough, and somewhat lonely sometimes. Although, you didn’t mind the solitude so much.

You had been roaming the streets from a very young age since becoming an orphan, and you were grateful for the skills and tricks that you had picked up along the way.

You had learnt to be invisible, silent, and deadly if it came down to it. You could handle yourself, and rarely had to rely upon others.

You liked it that way.

Berry was hard to come by as a child, but as you grew older you found ways of making a living, and being the contracted assassin for a certain warlord was one of them.

It was for this reason that you were currently scaling the side of his coffin shaped vessel to retrieve the fruits of your labour.

Silently, you slipped through the opening of one of the windows, feet meeting the ground without a sound. Inaudibly, you moved through the ship in search of its captain.

Peeking around the doorframe of his quarters, you finally caught sight of the warlord in question—back turned, wine glass in hand.

Typical. you thought with an eye roll.

He was seemingly oblivious to your presence, and so you took the opportunity to scowl into the back of his head a little longer.

“You took your time” Mihawk sighed, tone low and uninterested as he remained with his back to you.

You pouted underneath the mask that was covering your face, as you realised that you had been discovered. It pissed you off that you could never sneak up on him.

“I thought something might have happened to you, it’s been two weeks” he continued, taking another sip from his wine glass, voice lacking in concern.

“That asshole gave me the run around for five whole days before I could find him. Maybe you should get your own hands dirty if you want it done any quicker.” You retaliated, emerging from the shadow of the doorway and into the centre of the room.

With that, mihawk slowly turned his body around to face you, his golden eyes meeting your own.

If looks could kill.

The look he gave was soul piercing, and it made your hair stand on end with a mix of adrenaline and something primal pooling in the pit of your stomach. It gave you a strange thrill, antagonising someone so dangerous.

Maybe if he didn’t possess the arrogance that came with being the worlds best swordsman, you might consider him attractive.

The angular structure of his jawline, and the way his beard was so carefully groomed to complement it.

The annoyingly perfect dark curls peaking out from under his hat.

The hard contours of pure muscle that his shirt tried so poorly to disguise.

Shit. So maybe he was nice to look at.

But you weren’t here to ogle the warlord, you were here for his deep pockets.

You agreed to help him with the large bounties assigned by the marines in exchange for a generous cut. These bounties were only for the most skilled and damn right crazy pirate hunters, but they brought along a hefty pay check, more than you could ever imagine of making on your own.

Most of the missions he assigned were just track and retrieve, meaning you only had to get intel to pass back to mihawk, aiding in their capture. Only rarely would you have to engage with the bounty, which you were thankful for as these were some of the most dangerous pirates sailing the seas.

“This one is on Karai Bari island. It looks like he works alone so it should be an easy catch.” You said, as you ignored the daggers he was sending your way, sliding the bounty poster onto the desk in front of him.

Beneath the hard expression his face was sporting, you noticed that his eyes were dull and lacked their usual vigor. There were slight bags beginning to form underneath them—Had he not been sleeping?

Mihawk’s back straightened, as his eagle eyes flicked down to the piece of paper.

Without a word he reached below the desk and flung a bag of berry onto the table with his usual flare of sass.

“Good” was all he uttered in response, shifting his imposing form to face away from you once again, continuing whatever it was he was so occupied with before you interrupted.

You picked up the bag, and started towards the door assuming that was the end of your incredibly enthralling conversation.

“Be safe on your travels”

Mihawk’s words stopped you in your tracks, taken aback by the sudden and unusual expression of concern.

Just as you were about to turn your head, he continued.

“It would be an awful inconvenience for me to have to come after you if you got into any trouble”

There it was. The true intent of his words.

“Prick” you muttered under your breath before disappearing into the night.

Mihawk downed the rest of his wine glass to stop the corners of his mouth from curling up into a grin.

————————————————————————-

Well shit.

This was bad… Really bad.

You were in the process of trailing your current bounty, lacking the knowledge that he had already clocked onto your presence.

As you turned down the next alleyway you were met with the static silhouette of your target facing back at you.

As your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness they widened in horror, realising that he was wielding a pistol initially obscured from sight by the dimness of the back passage.

By then it was too late.

You heard the gun fire before you even had chance to reach for your knife.

Unbelieving, you dropped your head to affirm your worst fears.

He had shot you in the leg.

Your mask did nothing to muffle the shrill scream of agony that was ripped from your lungs, as your hand instinctively moved to shield your wound.

The man simply let out a huff of laughter before bolting off in the opposite direction. He clearly didn’t see you as enough of a threat to waste time finishing you off.

You tore off a piece of material from your shirt to use as a bandage, and patched yourself up as best as you could with shaky hands.

Stumbling, you set off back in the direction of the harbour.

Thankfully, there was no one around this time of night, as everyone was either asleep or down the local bar spending their life savings on getting royally inebriated.

Finally, the bobbing flagships in the harbour came into view, as you just about threw yourself onto the dock.

You were almost there. You could see the ship, you just had to move—why.. weren’t you moving?

By now blood was streaming from the lesion on your leg, and your sight was beginning to blur.

If I just…one foot..in front of..the other.

Finally, you began to move forward again, only it wasn’t your legs that were in motion, it was your body falling like a sandbag onto the wooden planks of the dock.

Then everything faded into darkness.

————-

You slipped in and out of consciousness briefly over the next hour, each time catching snippets of words spoken by a low, honey toned voice, each fragment sounding more desperate than the last.

“Careless girl, look what you’ve gone and done”…

“You’re lucky I was docked on the same island”

“I told you to be careful….why d-“….

“Can you hear me?….. hey, you need to stay awake”…..

“you can’t die on me now, I haven’t—“….

You looked around through the narrow slit of your eyes to try and make out who the voice belonged to.

Your brain was foggy and you felt as if you were drunk, room spinning at a hundred miles an hour.

Dark hair, broad shoulders.

Your eye lashes fluttered as you continued to observe the figure looming over you. Pale skin, soft yellow eyes….mmm…Hot?

Regrettably, you were not aware that you vocalised that last thought.

Far off somewhere in your mind, you formed the vague notion that it was amusing how you were thirsting over this alluring stranger in your dying moments.

That was until the familiar scent of wine and musk surrounded you as your body was consumed by sleep once more.

Part 2

#dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #mihawk smut #enimies to lovers #kinda #smut #opla #opla mihawk #opla smut #opla fanfiction

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anantaru · 2 years

Text

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦 !

˖˚˳⊹ college! boy headcanons feat. childe : ayato : kaeya : diluc : xiao : albedo : heizou : kazuha : itto : venti : gorou x fem! reader

˖˚˳⊹ genre: sfw : crack

college! boy childe who‘s the party animal of your campus. He‘s known for throwing the best parties, not to mention that whenever he‘s the one who attends a party, it‘s safe to say said gathering is going to be talked about for weeks, even months. Ajax is just a natural at this, is not a lightweight either so he's always up for alcohol challenges on who can drink the most booze within a time limit. He's also going to destroy the person who dares to challenge him, no one can drink as much as childe after all.

college! boy ayato who‘s the guy everyone simps for! and in all honesty, can you really blame them though? he‘s so handsome and very much aware of that fact. His sister ayaka and him are considered the 'it' siblings of your campus, always wearing the newest clothes and owning your college like a red carpet. People go crazy over just talking to them, not to mention that they would kill to date one of them! You could say ayato is a bit of a fuckboy, yet he's the one who assures you its his charms that are at fault, not him!

college! boy kaeya who‘s an absolute fashionista! he always makes sure to keep up with trends and adores wearing his signature jewellery in silver which compliments his overall looks. Kaeya always makes sure to display his fashion sense in front of everyone else and embrace it. Is totally getting frothed over on campus— is the kind of guy who‘s getting invited to parties too. Kaeya will definitely take all the attention of others once actually attending different gatherings, which he utterly is aware of!

college! boy diluc who's the talented guy around campus. He's honestly good at everything, there isn't a single thing diluc is bad at. Even if he tries it out for the very first time he's nailing it almost immediately. He can come off as a bit arrogant at times but without him actually wanting to be, it's just the way he carries himself because truth be told most of the times diluc doesn't even realize he's being a bit of a smart ass. He's also making sure to keep his distance to his brother kaeya who's always criticizing his fashion sense!

college! boy xiao who's the little sleepy head and late comer. If there's an exam he's always coming late to it yet somehow he's still nailing it regardless. You're always more than surprised on how xiao does it since he's asleep almost 99% of the time during class. Whenever you ask him about something related to class he has no clue on what you're talking about. He's known for coming late to literally anything, doesn't even have to be college related, when there's a party he's mostly not attending, falling asleep during it or attending once everyone's completely wasted already!

college! boy albedo who‘s the local library rat, or as you might say, class nerd. <3 he adores studying and learning about different kinds of topics— will never even dare to come late to class, he‘s actually the first one who attends it to go over his notes he made prior to attending. Albedo thinks it‘s so important to have good grades, he's also very kind so if you have troubles with a subject he's more than happy to help you out with it. Not to mention albedo gets flustered easily if you're praising him for being smart, so that's a plus point. <3

college! boy heizou who‘s the local gossip girl of your campus. Whenever there‘s gossip or rumors going around, it‘s safe to say it‘s heizou who knows all the tea about it, if he's not the one who spread it himself. You honestly just have to ask him, he‘s more than happy to tell you! yet be certain he‘s utterly talented in finding out your secrets as well, so don‘t even try to hide something or lie to him, he‘ll always find out and may use it against you, it's all about gaining some sort of intel against people for heizou.

college! boy kazuha who's always in a good mood! he's the guy who's dealing with weed on campus and assuring you it's just something to calm you down during wild times! classes can get pretty hard after all. Don't be concerned if he's randomly falling asleep or just overall being weird around you, he's baked 24/7 and owns it. He's a bit sneaky too, how do you think is he able to have such a lucrative business without the professors finding out about it.

college! boy itto who‘s the head quarterback, the best athlete on campus! the people go crazy over him and constantly ask him out on a date too. Yet the only thing itto talks about is his love for football, you could say he gives off major himbo energy and he owns it too. He's that one guy who will literally talk about his one interest the whole time and make it his personality, showing off his muscles even during class just so everyone is aware on how sporty and cool he is.

college! boy venti who‘s probably the best musician on campus. He has got his own little groupies as well and is very much aware of said fact. He adores to randomly sit somewhere close to your college to play his guitar in front of everyone, it‘s almost as if he‘s addicted to the attention he‘s getting. When it comes to parties he‘s a bit of an alcoholic, note to say that he‘s the only one who ever beat childe in a binge drinking contest. No one saw it coming but you literally had to get ajax home safely because he wanted to keep drinking even after venti beat him!

college! boy gorou who‘s the shy guy who never talks. He‘s just an introvert and isn‘t afraid to fully embrace it. Whenever you try to talk to him he gets weirdly flustered and wants to run away as soon as possible. He‘s cute though, but doesn‘t even realise that he‘s handsome as fuck. When it comes to parties he actually never attends one, gorou said he doesn‘t like the noises and drunk people and that they actually get on his nerves frequently. Once you did take him to one gathering and truth be told, it was actually pretty fun once he gobbled down the first shot (he‘s a lightweight so please keep an eye on him!)

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

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crownmemes · 5 months

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Angry & Irritated Sentences, Vol. 7

(Angry and irritated sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Have I pissed you off in a way that's more than normal?"

"Do you remember that conversation we had about personal space?"

"Please don't answer a question with a question."

"Stop. Does anything about this face say 'please analyse it'?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Have you forgotten how this works between us?"

"My feelings will not be repressed."

"You are making critical assumptions without any facts!"

"I don't want to talk to somebody that doesn't have the balls to own up to who he really is."

"Are you saying that my house is sad?"

"All I did was what no one else had the guts to do!"

"With all due respect, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"What is it you want me to understand? The secrets or the lies?"

"You damn me for my secrets, but you're afraid to speak the truth."

"I sincerely hope you are not suggesting that I have something to do with this."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I took care of it myself. I can do that, you know."

"What are you insinuating?"

"I will thank you not to have this conversation in front of me."

"Being grumpy is really not helping."

"Please, could you not?"

"What the hell are you doing here this late?"

"I simply can't abide rudeness."

"If you let me down, I'll kick your arse from here to kingdom come."

"Just because we talked yesterday morning doesn't make us sweethearts."

"Don't try to be reasonable with me! I am so sick of being reasonable!"

"I have not yet expressed my opinion."

"Use your head; it'll save your ass."

"I don't know how I can forgive you for this."

"You want to see me snap?"

"Are you monitoring my life? Bugging my phones?"

"Maybe you like keeping your distance from people, but I don't."

"I put you in charge out there - now do the damn job!"

"Look, I know there's a thin line between genius and madness, but do we have to show everyone which side we're on?"

#rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #single sentence starters #assorted;#angry;

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justlikemebutsixfootthree · 10 months

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i. one time thing

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: lynne writes a miniseries! please don't hesitate to give criticism or suggestions :)

part ii. part iii.

1007 words

“she’s in the kitchen by the tequila.”

matty arches an eyebrow at george, staring pointedly at where his mixed drink is spilling over the rim of his glass onto his sweater. george gives him a wide smile, a slap on the back, and then – god help him – points at the kitchen.

he practically yells your name and matty resists the very real urge to murder his friend on the spot. “she is in the kitchen.”

“by the tequila, as you said,” matty manages through clenched teeth, taking the drink out of george's hand and downing it in one go, delighting in the frown that pinches his terribly drunk friend's face. he fights back a full-body shudder at whatever was in that glass. something fruity and horrible. “why are you shouting it at me?”

“because if you frown any harder, you might break something,” george responds merrily, taking matty's drink out of his hand in silent retribution. his good whisky, mind you, and an unfair trade if he’s ever seen one. “you’re bringing down the mood of the party, mate. go bother her.”

“i don’t want to bother her,” matty mutters, but his gaze travels to the kitchen all the same.

“go fetch another drink, then.”

“the drinks are in the kitchen.”

george stares at him as if he is the dumbest person on the planet, and perhaps he is. he certainly feels it with the way his best friend is looking at him. though for the life of him, he can’t imagine what george is implying with that stupid, all-knowing grin of his.

“imagine that,” he intones before slipping away, off to harass another, no doubt. matty waits a respectable three minutes and twenty-seven seconds before he steps towards the kitchen.

to get another drink, of course.

and that’s the rub of it. it isn’t to fetch another drink, and he does want to bother you. in fact, he wants to do a great deal more than bicker and banter and trade blows with you. now that the two of you have moved past the petty 'sworn enemy' phase that comes with the nature of your relationship, you being the little sister of one of his closest friends, he finds he quite likes your company. lately, he’s been craving it.

and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

he finds you in the kitchen, by the tequila, just as george said. but you are, of course, not as he expected.

he doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly isn’t you half-balanced on top of the kitchen countertop, hand groping in the upper cabinets. and he certainly wasn’t expecting –

“what are you wearing?” he barks, a lick of heat curling up his spine. it’s – all he can see is skin – smooth and glowing and you – you don't even look away from what you're doing, balanced there. you just sigh noisily and reach to your left.

“i’m wearing clothes,” you mutter.

“i’d hardly call it that,” he replies under his breath, though to be fair, it’s not a scandalous outfit. he’s seen tighter and shorter and – strappier. but it feels like he’s staring at you in nothing but a negligee, the loose linen pants you're wearing still managing to hug the curve of your ass, the two dimples at the base of your spine mocking him. your spine is exposed by the crop of your shirt, the hem just barely skimming under your shoulder blades. you have a touch of bright, cobalt blue paint mid-way down your back and he wonders how it got there. were you stretching during a painting session? did you curl paint-stained fingers around your sides, over your curves, up your spine in a slow, languorous stretch, your arms rising above your head, your wild crop of hair dipping low between your shoulder blades, just barely brushing those damned dimples?

he’s jarred, aggressively, from his daydream by your jubilant shout, your body tumbling off the counter and crashing into his, a bottle of whisky – his bottle of whisky – clutched victoriously in your hand.

he frowns and you grin, all wide eyes and sharp cheekbones. you pop the cap with your teeth and he bites his tongue, merely holding his empty glass in front of your nose.

“you don’t like my shirt?” you pour him two fingers before pouring yourself three, chin tilted down to look at the clothing in question. god help him, the front is worse. the rise of your chest beneath the top, the way he can see the swell of your hips where it meets the brush of denim. “ross got it for me.”

he suddenly, violently, hates ross.

he doesn’t like feeling this way. out of sorts, as it were, in regards to you. he likes you well enough. likes how you always say what you mean and mean what you say, even if it’s a barb aimed at him. especially if it’s a barb aimed at him. you are real and true in a way most people are not, and it’s –

he just doesn’t know what to do with you.

or himself, to be quite honest.

you swallow down your whisky and pull absently on the hem of your shirt.

“i told him it didn’t suit,” you mutter, embarrassed now, and he’s a damned fool. “nothing for it now, i suppose.” you boldly meet his gaze with a shrug and a forced grin, sipping at your drink. it’s a look he’s seen on your face countless times, and he hates that he’s the one to put it there.

“it does suit,” he manages, clearing his throat once when his voice comes out all garbled and twisted. you perk up a bit at that, looking pleased, and he feels about ten million feet tall. “you look lovely, but then you always do.”

“careful there, healy,” you grin up at him. “i might just think you like me.”

he returns your smile. “we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

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zoe-oneesama · 1 year

Note

Congrats on finishing the penultimate final episode of SL’s Season 5!!! And now for the season finale: What do you think of Audrey, her akuma, and Style Queen’s plot once you rewatch the episode?

The episode is...fine? On it's own? Like, I kinda just like it.

Well, as a character intro, it's pretty perfect. You know everything about Audrey in so little time:

Style Queen Magazine Fashion Critic

Harshest Fashion Critic in the World

Fires People at the Drop of the Hat, even the ones who don't work for her

Chloe mimics all her mannerisms and phrases -> Chloe sees Audrey as a role model to emulate -> Audrey is adult Chloe

Audrey sees no value in remaining in Paris despite her whole ass family living there -> Audrey doesn't give a single fuck about her family

Reinforced by her getting her husband and own daughter's names incorrect several times (she calls her CASSEROLE at one point!) though at least she has the good grace to look embarrassed for a second when she does and at least she corrects herself with the correct name.

She sure does get Gabriel's name right though, suggesting she holds him in better (or at least higher) regard than her own family. Maybe this is where Chloe got her Bourgeois Family Rule No. 148: You Need a Guy Best Friend to "Wrap Around Your Finger". This also suggests that her career ties are more important to her than her family ties.

Also it's interesting that she remembers Marinette's name when it comes up again...

In the two minutes they have Audrey talking in the opening, you know everything about her, and all signs point to her being a total asshole. And we all thought it was just Andre spoiling Chloe rotten that made her that way...

So I guess I'll just go chronologically for the set up to the akuma:

Liked: Marinette's imposter syndrome was depicted very well and is in line with her character. This was a pretty good use of Marinette's anxiety for the sake of exposition - her being tightly wound and going over her hat again and again so many times it makes her late, late enough to catch Audrey arriving so she can panic over that, and her getting to hear Audrey's interview with Nadja and panicking over that. All this set up helps the audience realize there's actually a stake here, since theoretically Audrey's opinion could make or break Marinette's dreams of being a designer.

Liked: Chloe trying to insult Marinette but ends up just doing a speed-run intro, pointing her out as a designer to Audrey and even showing off the detailing of her stitched signature. Maybe if Chloe hadn't gone out of her way to point these things out, Audrey wouldn't have taken an interest in Marinette in the first place, lol. Though obviously you'd only know that if you also watch "Queen Wasp".

Liked: This teeny tiny hint that Adrien isn't that into modeling, or at least not into modeling his dad's clothes, since he bemoans that he feels awkward. I liked that Adrien saw right through Marinette's imposter syndrome moment and actually cheered her up, and I like that Marinette complimenting his strut got him out of his funk in return without her even realizing it.

Liked: Oh c'mon we all liked it when Nathalie put Audrey in her place. It would be the dead pan snarky one that reminds Audrey that she doesn't work for her. The fact that Nathalie even smiles at Marinette when she presents the now vacant seat just sealed in that, on top of it being deliberate for Gabriel's plan, Nathalie enjoyed it. And so did I, Nathalie.

God, please don't look directly at me.

I'll stop going chronologically here. The akuma is pretty good, though just like Audrey herself, better at a distance (her faaaaace, what is happening?!) and idk the back of her head is crazy. I think they were going for a Statue of Liberty Crown shape with her hair, but the back is just...cut off and flat.

At least now I know where she kept the rose...?

As far as the fight goes, it's just Ladybug getting her ass beat even AFTER figuring out a way to slow Style Queen down with just her Lucky Charm, so I guess this IS Hawkmoth's "masterpiece". Though that does make her being so easily beaten in "Optygami" kinda weak. I guess all Ladybug really needed was help.

And obviously we were all robbed of Bee!Alya.

And obviously Plagg was MVP.

Chloe was also pretty good in this episode (in the way I think she's good, as a complete brat). She would bluff her way into signing up to be her mom's assistant, and while it was momentarily sweet of her to be worried about Adrien, you can still tell she's her asshole self when she starts down the stairs with her mom and talking about how AWESOME THEIR TEAM-UP WAS.

I know she was just leading up to suggesting she go to New York to be with her mother, but going on about how GREAT it was to "fire incompetents" together kinda puts into question just how much you were bluffing there, Chlo.

And of course Audrey calls the idea of Chloe going to New York with her ridiculous, but follows it up with "first I need to get back to Gabriel's fashion show", so there's a few ways to interpret that.

Is the idea of taking Chloe with her at all ridiculous?

Or Is it ridiculous to take Chloe to New York right now because the Fashion Show is still on? As in, that's not the order of things, or it's ridiculous because Audrey's not even going back to New York right away?

If it were any other character, I'd say she obviously meant the idea of Chloe going with her at all, but it's Audrey. Petty, career focused, only looking two steps ahead Audrey.

Then again, I'm probably just trying to make this more difficult and deeper than it is. It's probably just the former, she rejected Chloe flat out, especially when we know what's coming in "Queen Wasp". Idk who I'm defending here, it's a lost cause.

I guess what I'm getting at is that Audrey is fascinating as a character study in all these little ways that I'm not fully sure the show intended. Like her looking guilty when she screws up Chloe's name, even as an akuma. Or instead of listing the reasons why Chloe going to New York is ridiculous by tearing Chloe down, she instead is pointing out that they have somewhere else to be first. Where she comes across as not so much trying to be intentionally malicious but instead thoughtlessly cruel.

Don't get it twisted, though, she's still an asshole.

#style queen #my opinion #it's not too salty I don't think

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dykesynthezoid · 8 months

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Literally how are we supposed to have discussions about Judaism being sanitized/whitewashed in online and leftists spaces if you only know how to use it as an opportunity to shit on Reform Jews and converts. It’s so exhausting. Please get your head out of your ass. Like can we have any fucking discussion about Reform Judaism without a bunch of you openly implying that it’s less Jewish/inherently more secular/assimilationist/basically culturally christian.

Tbh the majority of people online who mischaracterize Judaism in that way aren’t even Jewish, they’re goyim who see themselves as “allies” who still haven’t deconstructed their bias. And the Jewish people who do end up (usually unknowingly!) leaning into that characterization are often not even Reform; a lot of the time they’re entirely secular and don’t identify with any major branch of Judiasm to begin with! And that’s part of the reason it’s easier for them to misrepresent Judiasm, specifically bc they aren’t as informed about their own culture.

While it’s important to stress that Judaism is so much more complex than American Reform traditions and that Judaism is by no means inherently liberal or progressive, it actually costs zero dollars not to throw a third of all American Jews under the bus because of that. You literally don’t have to do that. Half the time you all criticize Reform practices it’s shit you literally just made up and that isn’t even true. Fucking hell

#that post that was like ‘well I was told reform Jews don’t even say t’fillah during service’ ???#are you all FOR REAL????#judaism #jumblr

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beechersnope · 10 months

Text

Summer of Cum Days 13/14/15: moneyshot, prostate massage, come as lube

george/charles, warnings for intoxicated sex, sexual coercion, internalized homophobia, and charles being a terrible partner, 1011 words

***

They only ever do this when they’re high.

It’s tradition at this point, the slow, mellow exchange of hands that takes place when all their friends have gone home for the night, leaving just the two of them still sitting way too close together on a far too spacious sofa.

George isn’t like, into Charles, but he can appreciate the potent thrill of doing something he shouldn’t. He’s gotten over the hot, slick pulsing feeling of revulsion that had washed over him the first time he’d wrapped his fingers around Charles’s cock—mostly.

This time, though, Charles wants more.

“Come on,” Charles whines, his face pressed into the crook of George’s neck, breath hot against his throat. His accent is thicker when he’s crossfaded, a soupy mix of uvular consonants and nasal vowels. “Haven’t had a fuck in weeks.”

“And that’s my problem, how?” George asks.

Charles doesn’t answer him directly. He scoots closer, shoving a clumsy hand down the front of George’s trousers without warning. George inhales a sharp gasp and tries not to reflexively fuck up into Charles’s warm, dry, too tight grip.

“I’ll make you come first,” Charles promises. “I’ll make it so good for you.”

And George might hate himself for it, but he’s never been good at saying no.

Less than fifteen minutes later, he’s on his back in Charles’s bed, legs akimbo, naked as the day he was born. And Charles is two fingers deep inside his ass.

George wants to believe that Charles’s galling lack of technique is due to the fact that he’s had several beers and eaten two pot brownies, but that would be giving him far too much credit.

“Do you finger your girlfriend like this?” George wonders as he stares up at the ceiling, head jolting against the pillow with every rough thrust of Charles’s fingers. He’s only hard because he’s high, he tells himself. Weed always gets him horny.

“She does not like to be fingered,” Charles replies seriously.

He doesn’t take the hint. Every jerk of the wrist is more forceful than the last, and George can’t help but let out a high-pitched moan—of surprise—when Charles somehow manages to jab his fingers straight into what George can only assume is his prostate.

It feels good. George wishes it didn’t.

“It’s no wonder,” George manages to bite out in between his own heaving exhalations. “You’re not using a power saw, you’re supposed to give it a little finesse. I bet you don’t even touch her clit.” That was probably going a bit too far, George thinks, but after all this there was no denying that Charles needed the constructive criticism.

“You don’t have a clit,” Charles replies dumbly. He takes his free hand, cradling George’s right thigh in his palm and pushes it up, bending his knee towards his chest. Then he fucks his fingers in even faster, this time managing to hit George’s prostate directly on every single stroke.

It feels—George doesn’t know how it feels. There’s nothing to compare it to, just the feeling of hitting a wall at nearly two-hundred miles an hour.

George knows Charles doesn’t even know what he’s doing, that it’s just dumb luck, but that doesn’t stop George from shooting all over his chest and stomach in approximately fifteen seconds flat, his cock untouched, the whole thing dirty and obscene and overly theatrical like something from a porno. He isn’t even sure what sound came out of his mouth when he came, but when his vision comes back into focus again, Charles is staring down at him with an expression George has only ever seen when Charles qualifies on the front row, a future victory within reach.

Charles pulls his fingers out quickly—too quickly—and doesn’t acknowledge the hiss of discomfort that escapes George’s lips at the sudden loss. George wonders (with a sharp tinge of disgust) what it must look like from Charles’s perspective, whether he’s as open and raw and gaping as he feels, whether Charles has created a wound in him that he wasn’t meant to have.

George clenches down around nothing, pathetically, a silent plea, and it’s almost a relief when Charles plunges his fingers back in again, wet now with George’s own come.

“What are you doing?” George asks, still feeling a bit dazed from the orgasm that had just been wrenched out of him.

“I told you,” Charles replies, a bit impatiently. He pulls his fingers out again after only a couple quick probing thrusts and swipes even more come from George’s flat, trembling belly, using it to slick up his cock instead. “I wanted to fuck you.”

His dick is hard and heavy between his thighs, too big to point straight up at his belly button the way it should. George can’t even conceptualize the idea of having it inside him, not after the way that Charles’s fingers had rent him asunder. He shudders, thinking of steel-spark sensation of something that huge balls-deep in his ass, jackhammering away with no consideration for anything but the pursuit of Charles’s own orgasm.

George wonders if Charles would even bother to pull out, or if he’d come inside him just because he could.

“I could blow you,” George offers as he suddenly comes to terms with the horrifying vulnerability of having Charles between his legs, about to fuck him the way he fucks all his little brunette assembly line girlfriends.

Charles just stares down at him blankly, like he doesn’t understand. “I want to fuck you,” he says again, more insistently this time. He grabs the base of his dick, already shuffling forward on his knees to line up with the give of George’s over-sensitized hole.

George should tell him to fuck off: that just because he has a massive cock and a stupid nickname, it doesn’t mean that he can have everything he wants. But he doesn’t say anything at all.

He just lies back, listening to the chorus of their panting breaths cutting through the silence like knives, and thinks of England.

#summerofcum2023 #f1 smut #my fic #what is the tag for this pairing #cheorge #garles #f1 rpf

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mari-lair · 10 months

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Question for you, as I've been reading some of your tbhk analysis posts, notably about teru's treatment of akane and your prediction for akane dying soon! Since teru seems to want to acknowledge the human side of akane, how do you think he'd handle something happening to akane, such as him losing supernatural powers/being weakened, or maybe the opposite in losing his humanity and becoming a supernatural fully instead? Do you think the newest chapter may even imply teru having something to do with such a thing happening to akane or being witness to it?

I think Teru would handle Akane being weakened poorly at the start cause he treats Akane as if he is indestructible: No matter how beaten up Akane is, Teru never hesitates to use him as a stress relief, he is his first target whenever he wants to hit something

He understands Akane is seriously injured here, but he will still attack Akane if he feels like it. Regardless if he did it because he was frustrated by his failure of being too late to save them both, and took his frustrations out on Akane, or because he was jealous his (ambiguous af) crush kissed someone else, Teru still shows no hesitation to beat up the stabbed guy that is only alive because he isn't in a human body.

He did it again when they left the boundary and reached the near shore, where people can die.

He obviously doesn’t want to kill Akane, but it is still a wild choice to kick his ass to show he is in critical condition, is as if Teru believes “if I punch him he’ll be in pain” not “if I punch him I’ll cause damage.” despite the confidence Teru has in his own strength.

I can’t be sure what is going on in his head, but I am inclined to say he understands Akane's strange half supernatural powers and how much resistance it gives him compared to a normal human, which makes me think of two things that might happen if Akane gets weaker or lose his powers completely: Either Teru will know the exact limitations of Akane weakened state, or he’ll miscalculate, and end up doing something that Akane would usually be able to brush off, but will genuinely injury or even make him black out: Which would be one hell of a wake-up call.

Teru would lose his biggest stress relief and have to adapt to that.

Fortunately, I don’t think their banter and overall dynamic would be affected, since Akane would not change his no nonsense approach with Teru just cause he got weaker. They seem far more relaxed near each other now too, and we don't see Akane being tied up after the severance. But if Teru still bullies him off the pages, I can see Teru tripping him and doing the 'lighter' bullying, but still being more stressed in the long run since he needs to hold back (please find a better way to relieve stress teru I beg of you).

That being said... Teru’s trust in his power and his willingness to involve Akane in supernatural situations might lower, or even disappear, without his clock keeper powers.

He might get more protective too, since Akane knows about supernaturals, so he lost what Teru considers a normal human’s best defense against them.

And whenever he feels like Akane is in danger he jumps into protection mode quickly.

If Akane gets so weak he ceases to even see supernaturals (which considering Aoi’s case I find it unlikely) then I can see a disconnect happening. It will be felt far more by Teru than Akane since Akane ignores the supernatural world as much as possible, while that’s Teru’s whole life. Still, outside Teru feeling a disconnect at times, I still can’t see it drastically changing things, cause they could work together and talk normally when Akane used his enchanted glasses, their talk mostly about Teru’s siblings and Aoi, and they may have gotten closer because of the severance, but they can absolutely bond with nonsupernatural affairs too.

If the contrary happens and Akane dies, becoming a full supernatural, I answered how I personally feel like Teru (+others) might react: Here.

As for the later chapter, it feels like that was a set up for Teru to have a relevant role in this arc, but we don’t have nearly enough information to know which. It could be related to Akane, or foreshadow him meeting the broadcasting club, who knows? The only thing it says for sure is that Teru knows others are interested in Akane, or more specifically, in the clock keepers power.

Which is something he knew for a while already.

A lot of people must be interested in the clock keeper’s powers for him to know the culprit has a tsueshiro, and not immediately assume Hanako is the one behind it.

#I don't know if I would call his death a prediction cause akane may have TONS of death flags and people chanting for his demise in my notes #but this boy is a roach and he refuses to die. I wouldn't be surprise if he find a way to survives till the end in canon against all odds #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #minamoto teru #aoi akane #i feel like this is half nonsense rambling half character analysis so idk what to tag it as rip #had to edit cause tumblr straight up eat the last paragraph help

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 10 months

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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Back from my cruise with an update! I should be finished this fic soon cuz I have about three chapters left. Imma cry. Thank you again for the love! P.S. Never go on a cruise in the summertime. That boat was CROWDED AF -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

NINETEEN.

When Aizawa steps into his dorm that night with you curled in the crook of his elbow, the only thing he has on his mind is sleeping.

He is completely wracked with exhaustion. His bones ache, his body hurts, and he is truly feeling much older than he is. All he could think about was taking a hot shower, kissing Eri goodnight, and curling up on the couch or in his bed (whichever he feels appropriate for the night) with you on his lap while meeting with the city’s police department and the Hero’s Public Safety Commission aka HPSC. Both organizations are pretty concerned about Toyoma’s escape, as they should be.

Aizawa didn’t realize how incredibly skilled the guy is until he started fighting him down in the theatre’s basement. He especially didn't realize how hostile and dangerous Toyoma is until he attempted to kill you. He is a villain who has no moral compass and no values except surviving. With Aizawa’s experience, those are the worst type of villains.

During the meeting with the police department and the HPSC, he carefully responded to each question and explained the night as best as he could without mentioning you being a part of the mission. It was bad enough you were there and nearly faced your death. He didn’t need people as powerful and strict as police officers and HPSC members on your ass, wondering who you were and possibly even arresting you. He’d never forgive himself if anything were to happen to you or your career.

That is why he put the blame for Toyoma’s escape entirely on himself, telling the police chief and the head of the HPSC that he let his guard down for just a few seconds. “That’s all it took for Toyoma to set his trap and activate a smoke bomb,” he explained begrudgingly as he sat at the long, oak table at the HPSC headquarters. “When it cleared, Toyoma took off and disappeared into the streets. I couldn’t find him after that.”

Though the HPSC were livid (as usual when things didn't go according to plan with their heroes and made them look bad as an organization), the police chief defended Aizawa. “Eraserhead is one of your most highly-skilled pro heroes,” he argued. “If this piece of shit escaped then it's safe to say that he’s right on Eraserhead’s level and we should be very afraid of that. We need to be doing whatever we can in helping Eraser catch him; not criticize or degrade him for something that he couldn’t control.”

Aizawa appreciated that. The meeting was over by 1AM and after downing some coffee and telling Mic he could leave his dorm after babysitting Eri, Aizawa headed home in his Armani suit. When he saw you, his favorite cat, curled up at his door, he couldn’t have been happier. As soon as you heard his footsteps, you picked your little head up and tottered over to him, meowing happily.

He picked you up and held you in one arm as he dug in his pocket for his key. “Let’s get some rest,” he cooed to you, tiredly smiling down at your little whiskers and slow blinks. But as soon as he unlocks the door and gets inside the dark dorm room, he can tell that that won’t be the case tonight.

Because as soon as he shuts the door behind him, he gets a weird feeling. A feeling that has him feeling uncomfortable and unsettling because the silence of his dorm is uncomfortable and unsettling. It isn’t the same comfortable, serene silence of the UA campus late at night. It feels as if the quiet is just a fraud; a distraction from the attack about to happen. That is Aizawa’s first concern.

His second concern is when you suddenly jump out of his arms and hit the floor before dropping into a defensive stance, facing the wall behind the couch. You lean back on your hind legs, your tail frazzled and stiff and your ears back. Though the dorm room is empty, you react as if you see a threat.

“What?” Aizawa asks, his heart beginning to pound. As if answering him, you begin to hiss and yowl at the wall, nothing but empty space there. But you seem to know better as you spit and growl, your teeth bared and eyes sharp.

Aizawa blinks at you, shocked and alarmed. He’s never seen you like this before–so hostile. This can only mean the eerie feeling he initially had walking in here was a warning. Something is wrong here. Instantly, he rips his scarves out of his tracksuit collar and places his duffle bag on the floor. He looks towards Eri's door, finding it closed.

He has no time to wonder if it’s locked because that is when he sees the same villain from tonight at the opera slip through the wall behind the couch–unfazed, unharmed, and completely in the flesh. He is still in his suit though a little disheveled from the fighting and his hurried escape from the opera. And he’s looking straight at Aizawa, ignoring the hissing cat on the floor. Aizawa clenches his scarves, enraged a the nerve of this fuck to come here. “How’d the fuck you get in here?” he growls, angered.

Toyoma smirks at him, slowly walking around the couch to the living room. “You really wanna ask me that?” he snorts. “The security guard in the lobby is out like a light. Plus, all I had to go is slip through the ground and crawl my way through a tunnel to this place. Thank God for my quirk, right?”

Aizawa moves away from the door and enters the living room as well until they’re standing across from each other, staring each other down like two lions about to battle for their territory. A coffee table is the only thing separating them from each other. You continue to hiss and yowl but Aizawa stands in front of you, blocking you from the villain's view. “You need to leave now,” he warns. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure you don’t get away again.”

Toyoma’s taunting smirk grows. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Eraser,” he chuckles. “See, I followed you here for a reason: to make sure you never stop me again. If I keep you alive, that means you’ll always be after me and I can’t have that.”

Slowly, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a long fish knife that glints in the moonlight cutting through the window. “I’ll make this quick,” he growls before pouncing at Aizawa over the coffee table.

Aizawa is just as fast. He immediately flings one end of his scarf at Toyoma and entraps his wrist, gripping it. Toyoma grunts in pain as Aizawa begins to twist his arm, causing him to drop the knife. With his other free arm, Toyoma attempts to free himself by yanking on the scarf but that only gives Aizawa the advantage to fling him into a nearby wall. Obviously not expecting it enough to use his quirk, Toyoma hits the solid wall with a loud thud, causing a framed picture to fall as he hits the floor.

Aizawa moves quickly. He takes the knife from the floor, snatches the phone charging in the kitchen by the microwave, scoops you up, and races to Eri’s bedroom which he finds is open. He barges into her darkened bedroom, slams the door shut behind him, and hurries over to Eri’s bedside. She is already awake and out of bed, balled up beside her bed and shaking in her Mickey Mouse PJs. When Aizawa notices that her little horn and red eyes are glowing–things that haven’t happened in months–he suddenly has the blinding urge to kill Toyoma right then for scaring his little girl.

“Eri,” he says, startling her. She instantly turns to him, the glow of her little horn dimming as well as her ruby-red eyes. “D-Daddy?” She fearfully stutters. “What’s going on? Is there an earthquake?”

“Yeah, baby,” he quickly replies as kneels down next to her, lowering you into her arms. You latch onto her immediately. He also hands her the phone from the kitchen, already having trained her to call for help––either Mic, Hitoshi, Mirio, or 911. “I need you and your cat to stay in here, okay? Lock the door, keep the phone near you if you need to call someone, and don’t go near the door until you hear me tell you to open it. Understand?”

Eri frantically nods but grips his arm when he begins to stand. “W-where are you going?” she yells, panic in her little voice. “Daddy, don’t leave!” She begins to cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Aizawa feels his heart tear in two as he presses a hand to her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I’ll be right back, pumpkin. Just stay here with your kitty, okay?” He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead, doing his best to keep back his tears. He needs to protect her. "I love you so, so much,” he whispers.

He doesn’t stick around for long to hear Eri respond to him. He quickly storms out of the room and locks it behind him. As he does, Toyoma has found his footing and is now searching for his knife. When he sees Aizawa standing there with his knife behind his back, his eyes widen crazily. “There you are!” he cackles. “I thought you had pussied out on me.” He cocks his head, eyeing the door behind Aizawa. “What’s in that room behind y–“

Before he can finish his sentence, Aizawa is leaping toward him and tackles him to the hardwood floor. Once they fit the floor, Aizawa scrambles to straddle Toyoma, squeezing his muscular thighs around him and pinning him to the floor with his weight settled on Toyoma’s chest. With a grunt, Aizawa brings the knife up to drive down into Toyoma’s right pec, but Toyoma's upper torso begins to sink into the floor, trying to escape Aizawa’s attack.

Aizawa quickly grabs Toyoma’s leg, stopping him from disappearing entirely. He wastes no time driving the knife into Toyota’s thigh, earning a high-pitched roar of pain. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, bitch,” Aizawa growls before taking the knife out. Blood spurts out of Toyoma’s new wound, staining his dress pants. Aizawa goes to stab him again in the same place but Toyoma surprises him when he suddenly rises from the floor as if practicing a sit-up and headbutts Aizawa in the nose. Pain explodes throughout his nose bone, causing Aizawa to drop the knife.

The few seconds of Aizawa letting down his guard allow Toyoma to throw him off of his body. Aizawa tumbles onto his back but manages to recover. He quickly rises and fights Toyoma off when he attempts to charge at him with the knife, angrily roaring as he does. Aizawa grips both of Toyoma’s wrists in his hands, trying to force him and the knife away. He grunts from the force of holding Toyoma back, staring at the tip of the knife in his face. The harder Toyoma pushes, the more Aizawa has to push back and his knees begin to buckle.

There is suddenly a knock at the door and the sound of pro hero and professor Vlad yells through the wood. “Aizawa?” he calls. “What’s going on in there?” Aizawa doesn’t answer, too distracted by Toyoma and the knife. Toyoma’s face is red and twisted in rage like the ugliest dog Aizawa has ever seen. This guy isn’t playing.

But neither is Aizawa. Realizing he has Toyoma right where he needs him, he begins to stare into his eyes and quickly rummage through his mind to draw out his energy. “No!” Toyoma cries, realizing what’s happening. He quickly drops the knife and disappears into the floorboards much to Aizawa’s dismay.

The knocking at the door continues, but Aizawa ignores it. He quickly grabs the knife and breaks it in half, scattering the pieces on the floor.

He then busies himself searching for his opponent, whirling around to face each wall. “Where the fuck are you?” he hollers. “Come out here now!” Vlad continues to frantically knock on the door, calling for him. He hears Nemuri too, which means everyone can hear what’s happening behind his closed door. He doesn’t have time to feel apologetic for waking the others.

And he barely has time to prepare for the blow that Toyoma gives him when he suddenly emerges from a nearby wall. Aizawa caresses his jaw which is now severely aching. He turns to elbow Toyoma in the face but finds him gone. In a flash, the villain reappears from behind Aizawa now and kicks him hard in the ribcage. It feels like the wind is being knocked out of Aizawa’s body and a fire has been lit in his ribcage all at the same time.

He doesn’t have time to recover when Toyoma suddenly slams and shatters something against the back of Aizawa’s head. Like a fallen tree, Aizawa tumbles onto the floor on his stomach as pain explodes on his scalp.

The world looks blurry and sounds muffled now, including the voices coming from the door. “Shouta!” Mic’s voice drifts through the front door now, urgent and scared. “It’s me! Open the door!”

Toyoma appears in front of Aizawa, his shoes the only thing visible. Aizawa’s eyes slowly roll up to face his cruel smirk and the broken framed photo of him and Eri at the aquarium. “Can’t even take my quirk,” he coldly laughs. “But I guess the element of surprise always works for someone taken off guard.” He drops the framed picture and steps on it, the glass crunching under his shoe, as he kneels in front of Aizawa. “But you’re also a weak old man, Eraser,” he whispers.

A warm liquid drips into Aizawa’s eyes. He realizes that he is bleeding. The world blinks in and out, dark spots beginning to coat his vision. However, he can still see Toyoma pick up the pointed half of his knife and hold it up near Aizawa’s scalp.

“Sorry to do this,” he says, not at all sounding the least bit sorry. But before he can drive it through Aizawa’s head, a flash of black zooms in front of them and jumps onto Toyoma’s face.

Aizawa watches as you vigorously claw and scratch at Toyoma’s face, causing him to scream bloody murder as you tear his face to shreds. He grapples with your furry body, trying in vain to get you off of his face. “Get off!” he screams. “Get the fuck off of me!” You yowl and scream at him, flashing your fangs as you continue to claw at his skin like its paper, creating terrible, bloody wounds that will surely need stitches.

Finally, Toyoma manages to throw you off of him and you go soaring behind the couch. He falls to his knees and begins to twitch in pain, blood furiously dripping from his face. ‘Good kitty,’ Aizawa thinks to himself. It is the only coherent thought he can produce as he begins to fade farther away from reality. He’s losing too much blood he knows, and he will soon lose consciousness. Maybe he’ll die too? He doesn’t know.

The only two things he thinks about in those fleeting moments of consciousness are Eri and you. Your smile. Your eyes. Your voice which he begins to hallucinate is right in his ear. “Aizawa,” you whisper to him. “Shouta, wake up. Don’t close your eyes, okay?”

He even believes he feels your touch, your warm hand cupping the back of his head while the other caresses his face. Are you really there, he wonders? Or is he simply dying?

Though muffled, he hears the sound of his door slamming open and multiple voices shouting, yelling. He doesn’t feel your touch anymore. “Shouta!” Nemuri cries out, scrambling to help him.

“What the fuck happened to him?!” Vlad demands.

“Someone go get Eri!” Mic urgently yells.

Aizawa hears Nemuri’s quick footsteps as she leaves for Eri’s bedroom. He feels Mic beside him now, knowing it’s him by the scent of his cologne. “Shouta, stay with me,” he softly urges his friend. “You’re gonna be just fine, okay? You’re gonna be just fine…”

Those are the last words Aizawa hears before darkness finally comes.

***********

When Aizawa awakens moments later, all he sees is a bright, blinding light overhead that is way too bright and unnatural to be the sun.

‘Oh, fuck,’ he thinks in a panic. ‘I’m dead, aren’t I? That motherfucker killed me.’

He blinks rapidly at the bright light illuminating above him as his vision begins to clear. When it does, he realizes that the light is not one that is at the end of a tunnel or some spirit guide leading him into the afterworld–it’s a light attached to a tiled ceiling. His hearing begins to sound more crystal too. Surrounding him are the sounds of methodical beeping and distant chatter.

Once his eyes adjust, he looks around at his surroundings. A room that isn't his own lies in wait for him with white walls, a small TV hanging overhead above a sink and tiny kitchenette, and muted grey furniture–an armchair and a couch sitting by a large window overlooking the clean, cut grass and trees blossoming with yellow flowers behind Mic's head.

Wait…Mic can’t be dead too, can he?

“Mic?” Aizawa croaks out which results in a series of coughs and an awful burning in his ribcage. As he hacks up his lungs, the beeping he heard before gets faster. He realizes that it's a heart monitor. He’s not in heaven–he’s in a fucking hospital.

Mic, who was reading a book, quickly flings the book aside and goes to his friend’s aid. “Hey, Sho’,” he softly says, rubbing Aizawa’s back. “How do you feel?” Aizawa licks his lips after all the coughs are out of him, groaning at the ache he feels in his ribs. “My throat’s dryer than a bitch,” he grunts.

Mic quickly goes to the kitchenette and gets a paper cup of cold water. He carefully hands it to Aizawa who tries to sit up as much as he can but even that makes his chest burn and his ribcage ache. “Don’t try to move too much,” Mic says, bringing the cup to his lips. “The doctor said that villain took a big hit at your ribcage.”

Aizawa can tell. He slowly sips the water, feeling somewhat better now that he isn’t parched anymore.

“Anything broken?” he asks. Mic shakes his head. “Luckily no, but they had to give you stitches for the gash in your head and clean up some bruises. They also bandaged up your upper torso so try to breath slow. Nothing is life-threatening, but the doc is still running some tests. He’ll be happy to know you’re awake.”

He gives Aizawa another sip of water before plumping his pillow for him like a good, attentive servant.

As he does, his words process in Aizawa’s still slightly dazed mind. He looks down, finding wires taped to his wrists and a hospital gown adorning his body. “How long have I been in here?” he asks, suddenly panicking. “Where’s Eri?”

“Relax, relax,” Mic soothes him so he doesn’t set off the heart monitor again. “I sent Eri down the hall to the vending machine. You’ve only been in here since last night. It’s about 10 AM now.”

Aizawa sits back against his pillow, letting the information process in his frazzled mind. He’s been here since last night? “What happened to Toyoma?” he asks. Mic gives him a blank stare. “The villain.”

“Oh, we called the cops and they came running,” Mic explains. “The entire campus turned into a chaotic mess. Everyone was awake at that point. Nezu and Nemuri came to the hospital with me to ensure you were okay, and the police chief called earlier to give me information to pass down to you.” He pauses to give Aizawa another sip of water. “The villain–Toyoma–was arrested and is being held for questioning right now…with no bail, might I add.”

A sigh of relief leaves Aizawa’s body. That’s good, at least. “How’s my dorm?” he asks, afraid to know the answer. Mic sheepishly smiles at him. “Well, since it’s a crime scene now, you won’t be able to go back for at least two or three weeks, but Nezu is offering you an apartment near UA for the time being. So far, Eri and I haven’t been back to UA. We’ve just been here.” He motions over the entirety of the hospital room.

“We?” Aizawa parrots. “Eri’s been here this whole time?” He can’t help feeling unhappy with this news. The last place Eri needs to be in is a fucking hospital. Mic doesn’t show any kind of alarm to Aizawa’s anger. “She didn't want to leave you, Shouta,” he protests. "I tried to get her to come back to my dorm but she–“

“And what about Y/N?” Aizawa interjects. “Where is she? Does she know?” Mic’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Y/N isn’t here. The last time I saw her was last night in your dorm room. She was already there by the time we got Vlad to bust down the door. He didn’t wanna do it since it counts as UA campus property.” He rolls his eyes behind his glasses.

Aizawa scowls at him, perplexed. “Y/N was already in my room?” he asks, utterly confused. Mic slowly nods, just as confused. Your voice comes back to him telling him to keep his eyes open, your warm hand cupping the back of his head. So that wasn’t a hallucination. That was real. You were really there, coaxing him to hang on. But…how?

“That’s impossible,” Aizawa says, trying to reason. “Before Toyoma came, no one was in my dorm last night except for me, Eri, and–“

“Daddy?” a tiny voice whispers from the doorway. Aizawa and Mic turn to the doorway, finding a little girl with her locks of silver hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing overalls over her shirt. She holds a jukebox and a pack of cookies in her hands as she gapes at Aizawa, her eyes wide.

“Eri,” he softly says, a smile curling on his lips. “You got those cookies for one, huh?” She immediately drops both items and runs to him, scrambling onto the bed. She is careful as she wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his neck as she wails. “I-I thought you were dead,” she hysterically sobs. “I-I thought you left me!”

Aizawa holds her close, thanking God that she’s safe. “Never, pumpkin,” he coos. “I’d never leave you. I’m just so happy you’re safe.”

He cradles her head to his chest, ignoring the burning and aching of his body. This pain means he’s alive. It means that he can recover and have more time with Eri, Mic, and everyone else he loves. “Everything’s gonna be okay, honey,” he shushes his sobbing Eri. “I promise.”

But despite the joy he feels, even he can’t decide if he’s telling Eri this to reassure her, or if he’s telling himself this to reassure himself.

Especially when your absence is all that is on his mind. This only gets worse for him when a nurse suddenly appears in the doorway holding a vase of the most beautiful bunch of pink flowers in a glass vase. “Oh, you’re finally up!” she cheerfully says. “That’s great because I’d rather you see your gift with your own two eyes. I’ll just leave them here for you and go alert the doctor.”

Once she lowers the flowers on his bedside table and leaves, Aizawa examines the beautiful flowers and finds a tiny white card tied to a ribbon around the neck of the vase. There, he sees a message and your name:

I’m so sorry for how things turned out. Please make sure you rest up and I look forward to seeing you once you’re out of that bed.

-Love, Y/N

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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sharonisthebettercarter · 7 months

Text

we need to have an honest conversation about hostile attribution bias, honesty, and bullying.

@deliciouskeys i've had enough of this shit. you wanted to piss me off. now i'm pissed the fuck off.

hey, hiiii. friends of hers? critics? whoever you are reading this and willing to hear me out, i just wanna start by saying don't hate on her or anyone for this. don't send harassment, don't send anon hate, don't even unfollow her if you do read this all the way and find yourself upset with the topics discussed or her actions.

or maybe you wouldn't anyway, and you've already decided i'm insane, fine. but if you are friends of hers, don't barrage her with verbal abuse of any kind even if you are disappointed or disgusted, i'm not about that. and good friends won't just coddle and take your side to enable the bullshit, but they won't try to hurt you when you're down either

and to clarify what this is? it is a harsh criticism of ongoing behavior i have faced from her behind the scenes. or out in the open i suppose but mostly unseen or dismissed.

yes, i have the motherfucking receipts. i've tried to condense them to what i found most relevant to the topics at hand without clipping the interactions so much that they would give a biased misrepresentation, but all conversations as of this moment and to the best of my knowledge are still available to view in full context. mine certainly won't be deleted.

i may have some bad takes sometimes cause i'm as perfect as anyone, which is to say NOT AT ALL. but i'll readily admit that and the fact that i work on it, CONSTANTLY. and before anyone decides to dig through my shit to see if they can find dirt on me IRRELEVANT to this situation to DISTRACT from what's being called out?

all i ask is a fair chance and moment of your time to show you what i've been through, because it's something she never gave me from day one. and bear in mind please, that i am pissed off because it's gone on long enough and now she's trying to drag my friends into it while CONTINUING TO LIE BEHIND MY BACK and feign fucking ignorance.

no more.

deliciouskeys? you. yes you, i am addressing you directly this time. i gave you a peace offering with the mike sully meme, and you just kept going.

since i poked my head into the boys fandom, you have been hostile to me, LIED about me, put words in my mouth, accused me of hostility towards you, assumed my intent while not only withholding the benefit of a doubt, but consistently. consistently putting me down and insulting me as some sort of estranged fandom villain who only exists or popped up to oppose you or ruin everything.

i'm not a fucking cartoon character, i am a person. i do not exist to supplant you or whatever weird shit you keep imagining me to be that makes you act like this.

almost every single thing i say to you, instead of actually LISTENING or i dunno, READING IT AT FACE VALUE, you take. hyperanalyze. and immediately give it the WORST interpretation you can. and that's if i'm lucky.

i'm not here for fandom wars and shipping bullshit. i'm not here for your false dichotomy fantasy. i'm here to be a bullshit shipper and have fun and try to get others to be more open and have fun too. maybe throw in a psa here and there for the things i find important.

i'm not here to get fucking bullied either or to watch others get bullied. you can take your assumed hostility and narcissistic PROJECTION and shove it straight up your ass if you think i'm going to tolerate it.

and what is 'hostile attribution bias'? it's this shit.

oh, and you don't have to assume it anymore. i'm fucking hostile. why am i hostile? oh... at this point, i KNOW you KNOW. but not everyone else does, so let's just lay it all out and let others draw their own conclusions. hm?

this was what set you off, right? the automatic assumption that this was someone i knew, looking out for me? i suppose that's possible but that doesn't mean i know exactly who it was or that i put them up to it.

and y'know, i might have even said that anon was a bit harsh and still given you the benefit of a doubt. anon was ANGRY and that's clear, but plausible deniability is so wonderful, isn't it?

but you've gone beyond that point. it wouldn't be the first time someone's noticed your behavior, and i can guarantee that. our first conversation was on my post about the comics and what they meant to me, sparked from an interaction i had with another fan of the show who refused to read the comics but still insulted them directly to me.

the bottom piece is from the post, the top would be the snippet of conversation with the other person prior. all of these are highlighted with slightly adjusted coloring for ease of understanding who's who. and granted, you could argue that i jumped the gun in my first response to you, but then you accused me of being hostile towards people who allegedly read and disliked them. and i had done no such thing, i literally was not addressing those people at all.

that was the first time you put words in my mouth, lied about what i said, and 'villainized' me for 'attacking people' made of straw i might add, when the post itself SPECIFICALLY STATED:

MISCONCEPTION.

so not the people, but the IDEA. an actually legitimately incorrect idea given context. i could go into a rant about how the comics cover one of the single most important and detrimental concepts to humanity (the war machine) and how american media is so piss watered down, propagandized and censored for babies and pearl clutching old people (and before you clutch your pearls over me 'attacking' babies and the elderly, i am not. i am criticizing AMERICAN MEDIA and PURITAN MENTALITY) that the comic itself was relatively tame outside of the american world view bubble, but that's not the point here, is it.

the 'many many' actually refers to people off of tumblr too, though i'm sure there's a fair share here of that mindset as it's found everywhere with everything. even then, i don't condemn the people. minds can be changed for ideas, that was what i was trying to do. maybe i need better methods and i can admit that.

still you chose to lie to my face or what, attempt to gaslight me?? whatever it was, it was enough for someone ELSE to step in and literally ask if you were BULLYING me.

and me, being the naive fucking moron that i am and thinking we ended on a nice punny note and the conversation wasn't so bad STILL gave YOU the benefit of a doubt.

did you extend the same courtesy to me later on? well, let's see.

no. no you did not. snippets of a convo from an anon ask you got on a proposed canon butchlander from when i tried to join in, you immediately accused me of things i have never said or done or even implied. and when i called you out on it, you immediately apologized (good on you, not included here but i DO acknowledge it and DID appreciate it) and i thought, "oh cool! we must be explaining ourselves to try and better understand each other so this doesn't happen again."

only for you to then backtrack and jump back on that ASSUMED HOSTILITY shit you seem to just LOVE huffing. but just for me i gather. maybe a couple others that i haven't seen or don't know about.

considering this is just the stuff i DO know about.

moving on.

you have questions? oh, what a cowinkydink, i have answers. if only you had just ASKED ME DIRECTLY INSTEAD OF PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH AND LYING.

but to give some clarification to the numbered ones.

love the framing here. OF COURSE, WE are ONLY here to be a NUISANCE. must be nice being a real human who can interact with others instead of solely "bother" them. if you'd actually read the post, you might have seen it was about the BULLYING itself, not the bullshit that apparently makes you rabid enough to be a bully. great use of being obtuse.

stop putting words in my mouth. stop fucking lying about me. stop assuming my intentions. stop painting me for your weird ass personal agenda or vendetta. stop making up bullshit about me when you haven't taken two seconds to get to know me. i did no such thing as 'slur the cishets'. proof is in the fucking pudding.

ahhh... i understand why you don't block people. and i think i'm understanding the insidious behavior and bullying too. you're disgusting to people who you don't want to see the content of so that they'll block you while you get to pretend you're still on your little high horse of being the "less petty" or "bigger" person. and that way you don't have to see their content anymore, right? having your cake, and eating it too. it's smart. it looks good on you as long as people don't see the behavior, like you might actually want to solve problems.

although, if i'm to understand all this correctly, you don't want to given the continued hostility towards me regardless of what i do or say. am i getting this, more of that delectable plausible deniability? or am i giving you too much credit? do you even want the benefit of a doubt at this point? because you stated before you'd rather be considered evil than stupid.

oh, my mistake, "disgusting" than "ignorant". let me not do what you do and put words in your mouth. clarify for me, if you want to.

personally, i think ignorance is more forgivable than malice because at least the uninformed can learn better, while those with ill intent will seek to harm again, but to each their own i guess.

and if you actually have brain damage over a nonsensical but ultimately harmless shit joke online, i'd suggest seeking actual help from a doctor because that isn't normal. but i'm going to be generous and say maybe it was a bit much or gave you a recurring nightmare or something, i don't know you, in which case yeah, get help if you need it. i take mental health very seriously so i'm not joking or being sarcastic here. happy healing and sorry for the trouble if that's the case on this specific thing.

but oh! you just don't want to see it, right? TOO BAD BITCH, I GOT MORE TO GIVE AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME!!

and i don't have a problem with you writing your personal views about a pairing, any pairing. if that were all you had done, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation or, if you don't care i suppose i wouldn't be screaming into the void.

but you explicitly stated your point of view was "pretty common", that defaults my view as "uncommon" or in other words, "others" me and those who like bottom billy. don't you dare deny that when you know for a fact it's true.

then citing reasons for why you believed your view was more "accurate". you then went on to claim you were "baffled" when if that were true and you were actually interested in TRYING to UNDERSTAND? YOU WOULD HAVE JUST FUCKING ASKED ME DIRECTLY.

not that i would owe you an explanation or apology, or anything. but i'd have been NICE enough to try and answer anyway to the best of my ability. here, i'll do it now.

i'm not a big fan of bottom homie for the same reasons i'm not at all a fan of (show) homewell. apart from the whole superdick/compressing anus thing, narcissistic abuse/grooming and exploiting someone's trauma for a toxic kink is not only a huge turn off for me, it's super fucking triggering based on my experiences and what i have been through. i've had enough people looking down on me and telling me they "know what's best for me" while trying to rob me of my humanity and use me for their gain.

the funny thing is that i relate to homie in that sense but consider myself a total bottom who also LOVES the 'dom mommy' in certain context, but i also share a lot of similarities with butcher as well and know they both have a lot of very intense differences from me. and homie has a fucking vibrator for a dick. you CANNOT make me want to miss a chance for that, it's just not going to happen. and if i ever want to explore any form of 'grooming' kink from a personal place? i'll stick to thanos and mistress death, thanks.

i also don't find toxic masculinity sexy, that's a red fucking flag for me more glaring than the entirety of homelander, i find POSITIVE masculinity far sexier and true 'top' like. MM has the most of that in my opinion and is the sexiest man on the show, besides the guy who plays black noir under the mask.

i also fully understand the kink on the other end, y'all wanna baby him cause he's never had a mommy and longs for some kind of nurturing parental love, and y'all also wanna fuck him cause he's hot. so ya smash the two together and embrace the infantilization kink (which is seriously not my thing)

and listen, more power to ya. if that's what you like, enjoy it. i'm not judging. i just don't have the same fucking taste and i'm entitled to that. i don't understand why you have to comment on it or be "baffled" by the idea that people can be different from you.

for the record, i don't want to smash the two ideas together, i want to help homie SEPARATE and DEMUDDLE the legitimate problems and confusion in his brain that makes him so vulnurable to women's manipulations, and help him grow the fuck up without wanting to fuck his own mother (if he hasn't already) or keep him baby minded forever. i want to untap his potential and see the man he can/would become depending on circumstance.

because i like redemption and character growth and am a sucker for second chances regardless of liking dark media, and there's a huge difference between "i like you" and " i like that you like me".

that requires a more careful handling than anything suface level, but regardless i don't enjoy exploiting trauma kinks or reinforcing toxic masculinity any more than i would enjoy yiff or snuff. i wouldn't judge someone for having the taste as long as no one real got hurt. but that doesn't mean i have to have their taste.

stop kink shaming me or being "confused" by my preference, i haven't done the same to you. and before you pretend you haven't or that i have.

if you were "seriously trying to understand" you would again, ASK ME DIRECTLY instead of this roundabout bullshit where you talk about it and 'how confused or tired' you are, but can't be bothered to take two fucking seconds to JUST ASK for a more serious answer beyond willem dafoe.

if i wanted to shame you for having a kink, i wouldn't be subtle about it. but i wouldn't anyway because i wouldn't even shame those who have a rape fantasy because i have one and have written and read plenty of it. i file it under 'horror pr0n' with a number of other things, and not every form or 'flavor' of horror pr0n that exists is going to be for everyone, much the same as fucking regular horror. but if it's FICTION, it shouldn't matter.

i understand that and if i judged others for having different tastes or acted... well like YOU, that would make me a hypocrite.

and your friend got it PERFECTLY on the first note. and then decided to enable the bullshit yet again by subscribing to the bane of human unity, tribalism. thanks for reinforcing the idea that this HAS to be a dichotomy WHEN IT'S NOT.

a little healthy teasing and competition? i'm game. it's too bad that's not what this was.

i am not your fucking enemy just because YOU decided i was, YOU do not get to decide that for me. but i'll give them the benefit of a doubt and say they were 'just joking', right?

that's ALL it ever is. "just jokes". but JUST when you or "your side" do it. it's not like you've ever been derogatory and petty about "your side" being the "good side" of fandom.

if you have to constantly reinforce and self assure how "good" you are compared to "others" specifically not part of your niche bubble?

you're an asshole who's not actually "good", full stop. if you have to measure your self worth based on what others do or comparing yourself to them, actually seek help because that's not healthy. just my two cents

but if you want to get technical, NO ONE IS RIGHT AND NEITHER BILLY NOR HOMELANDER IS TOP OR BOTTOM IN A TRADITIONAL SENSE, not just because opinions and preferences can't be right or wrong. because butchlander isn't fucking canon, isn't going to become canon, and as far as we know, both characters are confirmed 100% STRAIGHT within the show with toxic masculinity issues a mile long and would never wanna touch each other like that with a 10 foot pole, and homelander's shown exactly ZERO interest in actually being pegged thus far, so that idea's a headcanon.

even herogasm showed us that 3 on fucking 1 STILL wasn't enough to take him down and homie freaking out over a bruise from an unfair challenge of 3 on 1 because it had logically been a very long time since he'd been hurt makes reasonable sense on a basic surface level. he's then over it by the time maeve makes him bleed and carries on bleeding, and now butcher's dying and is the most vulnurable and literally weak because he's sick of the bunch, so... headcanons? headcanons are fine but let's not forget reality and then laugh at the people who remember it.

and if you had just asked me why i even brought up lovely amazing beautiful cishet women (not at all sarcastic, see above purple posts), instead of YET AGAIN. ASSUMING MY INTENT AND PUTTING A LOAD OF CRAP IN MY MOUTH. you can have that back by the way, what the actual fuck is wrong with you??

or for clarification on why i brought it up? i could have TOLD YOU MYSELF. because unlike SOME PEOPLE, when someone just ASKS a question or gives a neutral or even heated response? I DON'T ASSUME HOSTILITY OR TAKE IT PERSONALLY FROM THEM LIKE IT'S A FUCKING SPORT.

fact (and correct me if i'm wrong): majority of people participating in shipping fandom are cishet women.

this is a simple fact, it doesn't mean anything beyond that, i specifically said both times there's nothing wrong with this.

a majority of people are cishet, so this is to be expected. it still doesn't mean there's anything wrong with the people.

fact: society has issues, ideas, and expectations that affect and harm us all. cishet, or queer. and these issues will and do present themselves in fandom and fan fictions whether we realize that or not. heteronormativity would be one of those. misogyny is another.

and one of my kinks is challenging that, or at least the way i see to challenge that while dunking on redpill idealogy and toxic masculinity because i fucking can.

and i just LOVE how you tout about having the "pReTtY cOmMoN" perception which newsflash, YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO HETERONORMATIVE IDEAOLOGY IF YOU THINK TOXIC MASCULINITY IS A REASON A MAN WOULD NEVER BOTTOM. you'd be surprised what people could get up to behind closed doors. but then you turn around and not only put more words in my mouth, enable anon to put words in my mouth, discourage getting a direct answer from me, accuse me and my friends of being the type to randomly accuse someone else of doxxing??? wtf even is that.

and of course. given your 'pretty common' perception being the total opposite of heteronormativity, it MUST mean that society has resolved all of its issues and come to accept queer people exactly as they are in all forms with no expectations or interference whatsoever, oh yeah. places like florida or uganda just totally don't exist. the u.s. isn't on the verge of becoming an actual fascist hellhole for us, and it is TOTALLY just... no one oppresses us. no one.

ESPECIALLY not the cishets.

and despite all the evidence to the contrary, you especially have done nothing wrong here and its all in my head. is that right? can you clarify for me? do you think that my situations have put zero pressure on me in my day to day life? on my friends' lives? do you think you didn't add to that? do you think you and company are the only ones that feel or react like humans?

imagine being so far up your own ass you tell the queer HOW to queer. or at least be a GOOD queer, right?

oh, i'm sorry let me not put words in your mouth. you were of course only laughing at me behind my back for the 'anti-cishet' things i never said.

and no. OBVIOUSLY i wasn't saying any of the shit you accused. i was saying i prefer SUBVERSIVE themes when i do my tops and bottoms and a more detailed look at that can be found in my purple all over responses or just the posts themselves, but if you still want to ask me anyway, i'll answer to the best of my ability.

and what a coincidence that despite you understanding top/bottom not just being related to penetration and some people will feel certain dynamics may be reductive, how ironic that you couldn't possibly fathom that as one of my main complaints.

you don't WANT to actually understand. you just wanted a circle jerk of confirmation bias.

this anon hit the nail on the fucking head. and you wanted to fight them?? i could have overlooked this but i wanted to touch on something really important because i don't know what anon may have seen but i once saw you answer an ask about homelander's redeemability and you cited "tough love" as a means to get there.

and as a former addict and narcissistic abuse survivor (specifying for context), i can tell you first hand "tough love" is not a real thing, and it's not discipline either because that requires teaching and providing tools for rehabilitation. but don't just take my word for it.

from a psychological perspective and to hear actual professionals go over the concept? "tough love" not only DOESN'T work. it is an excuse to be nasty and abusive to someone under the guise that you are only doing it to help them, when all it really does is make you an abusive fuck.

this would be why the SHOW had HOMELANDER of all people saying it, why what billy did to ryan is presented the way it was with HUGHIE of all people, the guy who was at the time dealing with a huge wad of toxic masculinity issues up his ass, 'got it'. and even BUTCHER'S DAD is presented as the piece of shit that he is who gladly passed on his curse to butcher like it was a 'gift'.

even the comics got this when they present butcher doing his scumlord over 9000 move to hughie and annie saying "cruel to be kind" about his own bullshit. no. no no no. he did NOT do that for hughie's well being. he did it for himself because he was a selfish prick.

and i want to be clear. i am being an asshole here and i fully recognize that. that's for ME to feel better because i am fed up with your bullshit. because you have spent your time poking and prodding me for a hostile reaction. well congrats motherfucker. you got it.

and there ain't NO fucking love there.

i won't be your enemy. but i am NOT your friend either. clearly YOU wouldn't want that anyway.

but because i always have to add in that disclaimer for basic human decency? EVEN WITH HOW I FEEL and what the actual science says about "tough love", i would still never tell someone they can't use it in fiction, presented as a toxic kink or whatever the fuck else. even if it triggers me. even if i have a thousand different reasons to criticize it and voice that in a separate space.

people can do whatever the fuck they want and i can't control that. neither can you.

but i don't have to engage with the content or speak positively on it or keep my mouth shut, and i'm not gonna harrass people or pull the kind of insidious bullshit you do either.

at the end of the day, this is fiction. and if you feel the need to run an entire fucking smear campaign about me over fiction and preferences??

stop lying about me

stop putting words in my mouth

stop talking about me behind my back

stop predetermining who i am for me

stop assuming hostility when i will flat out tell you my intent and you can just ask, that doesn't just go for me.

stop fucking gatekeeping and gaslighting.

I DON'T HAVE A DISHONESTY PROBLEM LIKE SOME PEOPLE.

and fuck you.

neither me nor any of my friends or these anons are crazy and i will not sit around while you try to fucking gaslight me or anyone else. try it again, i fucking dare you.

bottom billy lovers existing is not an attack on you. it never was. you don't own the tags. FUCKING DEAL.

this behavior? is UNNACCEPTABLE.

as for fandom? a few more things i want to cover. i couldn't have said it better than a friend of mine who while a little hectic and crazy sometimes, has been nothing but a sweetheart<3 that i just want to encourage and motivate to art or post pictures of her billy butcher kitty babygirl incarnate but unfortunately due to circumstances may be regressing back into her shell.

a message i will never stop promoting, whatever iteration it comes in, whenever it comes up.

i may disagree with what you are saying or doing, but as long as you are not harming anyone, i will fight wholeheartedly for your right to say or do so.

that is the philosphy of true freedom, THAT is what i subscribe to. and it pisses me the fuck off when i see people trying to punish or hurt people for things that hurt no one. we don't get to decide how other people want to live their lives. we can only navigate and hope we might find a friend along the way.

and THAT is the single greatest picture of captain america ever fucking created. no i will take dissenting opinions.

in regards to assumed hostility or hostile attribution bias, a more lighthearted and easily digestable demonstration is below.

youtube

gais... just don't do it. don't automatically assume that someone means you harm or pain simply because they disagree with you. this is what leads to more problems. this is what leads to human tribalism. this is what divides us. this is what destroys us. this is what leads to wars. fandom shipping bullshit or otherwise.

the fucking stupidest invention of humanity, fought over goddamn unholy wads of paper and scribbles of ink because people couldn't accept that their ideas weren't accepted by everyone else, and anyone who didn't fall in line got the axe. or alienated. or excommunicated. or accused of being a witch. or whatever.

but this is the kinda shit we need to nip in the bud at the most basic level we can, every time we can.

it's called intolerance of the intolerant. and it's how we stop hatred from fostering and the intolerance being tolerated and eventually taking over.

because assumed hostility? it IS intolerance.

people are not made from ideas, it's the people who make or break the ideas, not the other way around. and ideas can change.

that should never be seen as a bad thing because it's necessary for positive changes and better understanding as time goes on.

challenge yourselves and the way you think, listen to newcomers and welcome them, have healthy discussions, learn to agree to disagree. it's not that hard.

and i know, i get it. it's not easy, not that simple either. everyone's on edge, people are sickly addicted to hatred and anger because they are EASY. giving in to them doesn't require self control or any form of discipline, it is as simple as instinct. it IS instinct. but if humanity has ANY hope of moving forward?

we HAVE to learn to give people the benefit of a doubt. we HAVE to learn to listen to each other, *actually* listen and hear *exactly* what others are saying. HAVE to learn to identify the difference between a differing *non-hostile* opinion and actual *intolerance*

because the world has already seen what happens when we FAIL and eventually we WILL run out of chances to get it right.

please at least TRY to give the benefit of the doubt in an appropriate situation.

i'll lead by example.

keys? even you. even now, i'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt DESPITE how you've treated me AND my friends now. because MAYBE you were actually key in the sketch and just having a bad day each time we interacted or MAYBE you have some sort of trauma getting triggered whenever you see my shit or we interact or whatever the fuck it could be, MAYBE you are feeling the pressures of a self discovery coming out journey and it's manifesting badly (yes i did notice that and if this is the case i would still wish you nothing but good will and luck with that, not sarcastic), or some combination, there's a million reasons and i don't know you, so i'm not going to assume or say anything for certain.

unlike some people.

but i don't think you're stupid. on the contrary, looking at your posts, my first 'assumption' was that you are actually very well educated and were just enjoying having fun and being silly. later and based on some things i saw, it occured to me that your education/upbringing may put you at odds or at a disadvantage with connecting with people online or having them understand you, that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or them, it just means you're speaking different languages.

even the "tough love" thing could be a miscommunication/malapropism. it could also be internal denial because you had a loved one do that to you and still haven't come to terms with the actual abuse you were experiencing because "they knew best"

i've been there. but maybe i'm the one who's projecting just to give you the benefit of a doubt. is it fair for me to take out my own frustrations on random people? fuck to the NO. which is why i TRY regularly to keep that shit in line and my life private.

so i absolutely will not excuse you for being so blatantly dishonest about me either behind my back or to my face because even if you do think i'm being hostile (when i'm not), there's no excuse for that. no, i wouldn't excuse myself either.

that needs to stop in a general sense, and i know you KNOW you are doing that because you'd have to *actually* be the biggest fucking illiterate moron on the planet to not know at this point.

especially when i reached out to you before to try and resolve this calmly and you ignored me and then continued lying about me, yucking it up with anons and buddies like high school mean girls. officially. unironically. instead of doing an ounce of self reflecting.

and i didn't include those messages, but the continued disingenuity and callous misrepresentation is there. and especially the carving into my character to define me however you want without giving me a voice to speak for myself.

stop it. you know it. i know it. maybe you think i'm some country bumpkin cousin hick fucker who happens to conveniently be queer but is remarkably stupid or an easy target.

and maybe i am stupid for ever giving you the benefit of a doubt, but you don't get to rob me of my humanity or basic courtesy.

because YOU'RE human too. and you have a right to your thoughts and feelings and opinions, and i get that, and i support it

even if by some fucking bizarre coocoo for cocoa puffs alternate reality, butchlander were to become canon the way I saw it? i wouldn't gloat or celebrate or try to rub it in your face.

I would encourage you to keep liking what you like and keep being yourself, maybe even harder than before.

even knowing you wouldn't do the same for me. at least from personal experience. see any of the above. and if you think i'm a self righteous prick for it, so fucking be it.

but if you're going to be an asshole? at least own the fuck up to it.

oh, and by the way? i now headcanon that billy butcher once a month puts on a full body gimp suit and with ball gag to do some strange kinda unholy shit with fruit OR veggies (never both), and it HAS to be a waning crecent moon, because i fucking can. and you can't stop me. ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

gais... don't immediately assume hostility. please. i know tone can be hard to interpret through writing or typic and emojis help, and yeah, i know i can jump the gun too. but i try to take things told to me at face/basic value or read them in a neutral tone and i think it helps too.

but we should never be judging anyone before we know them.