#I hate hate hate how it feels growing back and I’m too tired to maintain anything

[asexualasshat]

Sometimes my mom gets annoyed with me that I don’t shave my legs and one of her reasons is that it’s not attractive and it might scare off a potential partner. Mom it’s not gonna be my hairy legs scaring them off.

It’s gonna be the asexuality or the ptsd or the vaginismus or my sense of humour or my other mental illnesses or my aesthetic or the fact that I spend my free time playing rollercoaster tycoon and reading fanfiction or the fact that I’m mean to men or how I’m too scared to kiss a girl or just like my general auru or

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[goingmerryfics]

Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk

Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.

Shanks

Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between

Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion

Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained

The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe

Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm

While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned

Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain

He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk

But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue

You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you

He doesn’t touch you

It’s painfully silent for a while

Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension

“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”

You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours

He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it

He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe

“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

You do

You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms

Buggy

Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here

Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it

Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through

But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another

Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating

Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though

Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life

Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though

He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal

“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”

He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose

He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin

He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago

As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious

He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again

It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again

“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place

“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”

He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose

He looks like a damn mess

It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you

he pouts up at you and you cave

He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long

Mihawk

If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it

Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you

Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes

He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?

But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is

Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt

Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book

This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away

“Darling, we need to talk right away.”

Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night

The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone

So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge

Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning

But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability

He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does

And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are

If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.

“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”

It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place

You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence

He can work with that

He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small

He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect

[hyperactively-me]

Princess!reader finally slipping up and insulting King Ghost by calling him a murderer, or saying that she hates him for that reason. King Ghost finally understanding why she doesn't like him. I need the angst and drama aaaA.

In the dimly lit chambers of the royal quarters, a heavy silence settled. King Ghost sat at his desk, surrounded by the flickering light of candles, lost in the weight of his responsibilities. He had always carried the weight of the crown with solemn grace, ruling his kingdom with a firm hand and an unwavering dedication. Ruling with a strong hand was necessary for Kastron to survive, earning the respect of his subjects and the loyalty of his council. Yet, despite his outward strength, there was a void within him that he couldn't quite fill – the strained relationship with his own wife. 

You kept him at a cold distance that seemed impassable. He could feel your eyes on him, could sense the tension in the air whenever you were in the same room. He yearned to bridge the gap between you, to understand the source of your resentment, but it remained unspoken. He knew that you resented him for taking you away from your home, for throwing you into this role that you never asked for. 

That evening, during dinner, you were absentmindedly pushing around your food with your fork. Your posture was tense, your face scrunched up, lost in thought. 

Ghost clears his throat, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

“Oh, this question again,” you snap. 

Being immediately met with your hostility, he prepares for a blowout argument to occur. 

“Can I not ask how my wife is doing?”

Your gaze hardened, your fingers curling into fists. You slam your fork down, springing up from your chair.

“Your wife,” you scoff. 

“It’s what you are, are you not?” 

You don’t say anything. 

“Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about? We’ve been playing this game of back and forth and I’m growing tired of it.” 

“You want to know? You really are asking me this? Fine, I'll tell you.” Your voice trembled with suppressed emotion, a volcano on the brink of eruption. “I hate you for what you do.”

If he wasn’t paying attention before, he definitely is now. He sets down his fork softly. 

“Tell me what I do.” 

His simple response, his nonchalance, his ignorance of the whole situation, of your feelings, enrages you. The anger that had been simmering within you finally bubbled over, and you couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. Your voice cracked as you unleashed the storm that had been building up for far too long.

“You’re a murder, a killer. You’re a murderer and I can’t stand the thought of being married to someone who has so much blood on their hands.”

Ghost's posture stiffened, his own anger simmering beneath his usually controlled demeanor. “You speak as though I enjoy it. As though I revel in the violence.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humor. “Maybe you don't revel in it, but you certainly tolerate it, don't you? You justify it as the cost of maintaining your power. Well, I can't stand it. I can't stand the sight of you, knowing what you've done.”

His gaze bore into yours, the tension between you like a physical weight in the room. He opened his mouth, searching for words to counter your accusations, but you interrupted him. 

“And not to mention, I’m here now. Yeah, I’m all of a sudden the queen of your kingdom, and everyone expects me to tolerate it and to know what I’m doing. I have no fucking idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

Ghost's eyes flashed with frustration. “You think I don't carry the weight of every decision I make? You think I don't question myself, every night, about the lives lost under my command?”

Your laughter was harsh, cutting through the air like a blade. "Your remorse doesn't wash the blood on your hands. And it certainly doesn't—”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about, do you?” he cuts you off, the interruption slicing through the air. 

His voice is low and strained.

“You don't know the weight of these decisions this kingdom has had to face. You don't know the sacrifices I've had to make to protect this kingdom, to ensure its survival. Every choice I make, every life lost, it's a burden I carry with me every day.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words penetrating the walls of anger you had built up. You looked into his eyes, seeing something raw beneath his exterior. For the first time in a long while, you saw Ghost not as a cold king, but as a man – a man burdened by the choices he had made.

“I never wanted you to see me like this. I never wanted you to be exposed to the violence associated with me, and I sure as hell never wanted you to despise me.”

“You’re too good for me, you don’t deserve to be in this kingdom with me. So I tried my best to shield you from this side of me, from the violence associated with Kastron. I want to work toward a better future, not only for the kingdom, but for us.” 

You take in his words, understanding the weight of it. You’re going to be here for a lifetime. You’re not going anywhere. And who are you if you back down from a challenge? No, you’re a fighter, and you’ll go down fighting for what you think is right until the day you die. 

“I don’t know if I can just…forget everything,” you say slowly. “And I’m not expecting you to.”

“But, I can’t live the rest of my life here resenting you. It’s exhausting. I mean, fuck, I’m the queen of this kingdom,” you shake your head. 

A deep sigh escaped your lips, your shoulders sagging as the weight of your anger began to lift, replaced by a complex mixture of emotions.

"I don’t want to resent you," you admitted, your voice softer now. You twist the wedding ring on your finger. Ghost pretends not to notice.

“How can I close this distance between us?” Ghost pipes up with a calm tone. “How can I be better for you?”

“I… I don’t really know…” you say. “I just want to get to know who you really are. Who Simon is.”  

He’s quiet. 

“I could say the same for you, you know. I want to know who you are as well.” 

You nod slowly. “Okay…”

“After all, we do have a lifetime together,” he grunts. You pick your fork back up and take a bite of food. You think while you chew, taking in the last few moments. 

“I hope, with time, we can find a way to…overcome this. Together.” You nod your head solemnly.

Silence settled between you, a tense quiet that held the hope of change. The journey ahead was uncertain, a path fraught with challenges, but as you looked at him, you saw not just a king with blood on his hands, but a man willing to confront his past.

The anger that had ignited your words was still there, but it was tempered now by a glimmer of understanding, a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to stand together against the darkness that haunted both of you.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[aphrodieties]

Tw: mental health issues, mentions of abuse, war

Hi, how to manifest with extremely hard circumstances that prevent me from forming long term decisions?

Every single day something bad happens. It's tiring and it's eating my soul away. I am literally crying right now because I when I was writing this ask, the tumblr ask page refreshed and I lost everything that I wrote, and I put my fucking heart asking for advice from someone who I trust, only to be disappointed. I fucking hate technology.

It's something small, but that's just my life, at this point I'm just hyper sensitive, my bed is extremely uncomfortable, I lost $100 today, my family sucks and is abusive, my body feels like it's rotting because of chronic pain and probably something else, but I don't have access to health care, so who knows? Im not allowed to sllep for ong healthy periods of time, so my mind is a painful mess. My clothes are too tight, I probably have psychosis and the world is in completely chaos, specially in my country because there's a revolution because our election was rigged.

90% of my awake hours are depressing, spent miserably like a slave to my "family". So how to identify with a state that it's the complete opposite? I can't even be on a truly desired state for more than a few seconds, then it's back to this world, and manifesting to be mentally healthy feel like I'm sisyphus.

I'm also trying to manifest a genuinely good kind world with no war, bigotry, poverty and abuse. But since I'm have been a direct victim from those things, it feels so hard.

I know it's possible, but do you think those few seconds of fulfillment in the 4d are enough and more important that everything that I've been living through? Perhaps it is?

I’m so sorry you’re going through such a painful time. You’re carrying so much, and it’s completely understandable to feel overwhelmed by your circumstances. What you’re experiencing is not a reflection of your worth or potential—it’s just a state, and states can change, even when it feels impossible. Let’s focus on how to navigate this in a way that doesn’t overwhelm you further. First, recognize that you don’t need to force yourself into long-term decisions or perfect states of being right now. The few seconds of fulfillment you’re able to access in your imagination are enough because they represent a shift, however small, toward your desired reality. Even a flicker of imagining something better holds immense power, especially when things feel darkest. When you feel crushed by the 3D, try to simplify the process. Don’t pressure yourself to maintain the feeling of the wish fulfilled for long stretches—just visit it when you can. For example, as you lay in bed, imagine yourself resting in total comfort, wrapped in peace. Even if it’s just a fleeting image, allow yourself to savor it. Don’t worry if you can’t sustain it. Each moment in the 4D plants a seed, and seeds grow even when you’re not watching. As for the chaotic circumstances around you—your family, your country, your body—remember Neville’s teaching that there is nothing to change but self. This doesn’t mean blaming yourself for your circumstances but realizing your power to shift inward, no matter how small the step. When the external world feels overwhelming, retreat inward and remind yourself that the 4D is your sanctuary. You can build safety, health, and love there, even if the 3D looks the opposite. Finally, be kind to yourself. You’re not failing, and you don’t need to do this perfectly. Even with everything you’re going through, your few moments of imagining peace, health, and love are heroic acts of creation. Trust that they matter. Trust that they’re enough. And trust that even if your faith feels small, the power within you is limitless. Keep going, even if it’s one tiny moment at a time.

[pumpumdemsugah]

Hi so this is gonna be pretty long and I’m looking for advice. I’m a black girl who’s 18 years old with 4 type hair. Long story short I’ve been through all the phases with trying love and embrace my hair. Back in middle school, I used to watch 3 type curly hair videos and complaining why my hair isn’t mimicking the same hair texture and nearly came to the point of hating my natural hair texture believing it was “Impossible to manage” and “too hard to grow”. My mom would constantly hide my hair in box braids or cornrows and gaslight me on how my hair isn’t made to be let out and if it is, she would always try to slick it back with gallons full of gel or do wash and go hairstyles to make it have a loose curl look. She always washed and braided my hair and never gave me the chance to do my own hair. Now that I’m older and more mature, I’ve come to terms with my hair and I’m learning to manage it on my own, now realizing 4 type hair isn’t even hard to take care of, the problem was me copying a hair texture that wasn’t mine. I’m trying to wear my hair in normal Afro hairstyles and I feel confident and get tons of compliments from other people but my mom and dad make fun of my hair and tell me I look “crazy in it”. My mom would tell me not to leave it out before my hair breaks off (cause it’s currently winter for me) but even in the summer she says the same shit. I’m so tired of box braids, I’ve worn them my whole life and I just want a break from them but my mom won’t leave me alone.

Aww I'm sorry you have to deal with that. It can be hard to build self confidence when your parents are picking at you. When I first started looking after my hair and trying things out, people straight up called me crazy. I'm not really sure how it didn't hurt my feelings because I'm very sensitive but I think it was knowing and affirming that what I'm doing to my hair is making it softer, longer and healthier so teen me would tell myself " they can think that with their dry ass hair " and eventually I started saying it to people lol my hair was juicy and moisturised

Maybe you can try twists or mini twists. Type 4 hair can hold twists for a long time and looks really cute and works well in winter. It can be an easy style to maintain and is similar enough to braids maybe your parents might leave you alone so you can continue to build more hair confidence. There're actually some really good mini twists routines on YouTube and this one woman wears twists all the time

Sometimes Black parents do not want to see things our way. They're so stuck on what they think is right it will take years for them to admit they're wrong. Sometimes all you can say, it's my hair and my problem and politely walk away, they might start to get annoyed and back off

I get money is always an issue and idk how old you are but this is why moving out for uni, even just for a year can be transformative. Not having that negativity in your ear for a year can help so much to the point the negativity doesn't stick

My hair getting a lot longer was what permanently shut people up but that's not exactly a solution

Keep pushing ❤️

[returnsandreturns]

re-working the grumpy/sunshine eating disorder recovery romance

“I understand it’s upsetting to hear,” Ella says, patiently, “but it kind of feels like you’re upset with me for having a childhood straight out of a SVU episode.”

“What?” Riley asks. “God, no — just — I don’t understand how you’re so. . .so. ..”

“I’m going to guess based on our previous interactions,” she says. "Obnoxious? Fake? Ella, if I could get away with killing you for talking at that volume this early in the morning, I would do it?”

“Did I say that?” Riley asks, wincing

“In your defense, I was being very loud,” she says, smiling, “and it was very early.”

“I’m such a dick,” he says, faintly.

“I interpret it as about 25% being a dick,” she says, lifting her head up as the wind picks up a little, sending her curls flying, “and 75% trying to make everybody think that you’re a dick so they’ll stop inviting you to stupid little town events and you can maintain your status as town hermit.”

He squints at her.

“You’re inexplicable,” he says, with the slightest hint of a tired, genuine smile that makes her stomach do something absolutely horrific. Butterflies. She doesn’t get those. “You know that, kid?”

“I feel like I’m pretty explicable,” she says, “but I guess there are a lot pieces to put together to get there.”

Riley’s smile grows a little before it settles into something sadder, eyes searching her face before he looks away, saying, “I know that saying I’m sorry is a useless thing to say when it comes to what you went through, so just—imagine that I said whatever the comforting version of that is, okay?”

“. . .that was actually pretty damn comforting,” she says, nudging him a little.

“You’re not fake at all, are you?” he asks, after a moment, like he’s been working it out in his head. “I thought the whole—walking on sunshine, consummate morning person, good girl schtick was a schtick but you’re just. . .like that. I don’t think you could walk out of all the bullshit that life has piled on you and still be able to fake. . .this.”

He gestures vaguely at her and she smirks.

“It’s not like I’m not fucked up,” she says, sighing. “I just. . .I woke up one day and decided to take as many buses as I needed until I hit ocean. I could either figure out how to live or walk right in and I picked the first one. I’m not gonna let everything I left behind eat the rest of my fucking life away. I can’t put any more energy into hating everything.”

Riley stares at her, looking surprised.

“Did I strike a chord?” she asks, unable to put the smirk away.

“Don’t get cocky,” Riley says, rolling his eyes.

She kicks her heels a little, looking out into the grey sky, the choppy water on the rocks. There’s a storm coming and the wind is making her shiver in old jeans and a too big t-shirt. Riley eyes her skeptically when she glances up at him, like they had the same thought at the same time.

“I’m supposed to give you my jacket now,” he says. “Aren’t I?”

“The townsfolk will talk,” she says, voice lilting.

“They already talk,” he says, dryly, shrugging off his jacket and cautiously putting it around her, like he’s trying not actually touch her. “Better?”

“Better,” she echoes, fluttering her lashes at him exaggeratedly.

“I’m taking it back,” he says, plucking at one of the sleeves, and she laughs and leans to the side.

“Absolutely not,” she says. “You’re repairing some emotional damage of mine right now, dude, don’t ruin it.”

“Well, fuck, if it’s that useful,” he says, sighing and wrapping an arm around her, letting her lean into him heavily. She knows that the scent of old books from his store isn’t strong enough to make him smell like that but her brain still imagines it. In reality, it’s one of those manly body washes that smells like a forest, which is honestly a close second. The tendency to smell like a forest is one of few redeeming traits men have in her experience. She opens her mouth to say something along those lines but Riley’s face is content as he looks ahead and she pauses.

Ella’s never met a silence she was comfortable with.

She’s really fucking comfortable right now.

[borathae]

jimin GROW UP 🙄 DAMN! you manipulative insecure lonely miserable bitch!

jimin moves like an abuser and i’m not playing like i hate to say it. i know he was a victim, but now he’s victimizing others and i’m not about that. if he don’t clean up his act, imma start forcing vamp poison down his throat. truly i’m tired of jungkook being sad bc of tae 😡 i know seokjin and hobi gon be mad. yoongi is probably gonna be pissed too. and if im this fucking mad, i can imagine how pissed OC is gonna be.

u know what jungkook! word to shawn mendez bc i can treat u better than he can.

the juxtaposition of how two of the most important people in tae’s life treats him is so interesting. you have jimin, his best friend and literal proclaimed soulmate, be insecure and jealous, more concerned w keeping tae at his side and willing to hurt everyone (even tae) in the process. then you have oc, his girlfriend, encouraging him to maintain his bonds with other people, crying tears of enjoyment when she sees how happy he is with jimin, smiling when she sees him with jungkook. oc is truly a beautiful soul and just wants everyone happy. even you, jimin, you fucking fool.

now, even though i am pissed with jimin right now, i do understand why he is the way that he is. he literally has no one else but tae, while oc has an entire support system outside of tae. she has her friends hobi, jin, and emma, she has her own soulmate yoongi, she has (friend? lover?) jungkook. jimin has no one. meanwhile, tae is the same as oc in regards to a support system. i understand jimin feels threatened and doesn’t want to be alone, but is his loneliness really more important than tae’s happiness? he’s being extremely selfish right now.

don’t get me wrong, i do want jimin dead right now. but lonely bastards are a fucking nuisance, and that’s what jimin is right now. maybe if he’d reach out and try to form bonds with other people, with tae’s support system, he won’t feel left behind. maybe if he wouldn’t push everyone else away, he won’t worry about being left alone whenever tae’s attention isn’t on him for five fucking minutes.

literally i’ve felt the way jimin has felt before, but you know what i did? i tried to befriend my friends’ friends. i love my friends and trust their judgements, and if they love someone, maybe i can love them too. it’d do jimin well if he adopted this way of thinking instead of being a dirty lowdown FREAK.

jimin moves like an abuser and i’m not playing like i hate to say it. i know he was a victim, but now he’s victimizing others and i’m not about that. if he don’t clean up his act, imma start forcing vamp poison down his throat.

JFADJ MOOD hahha no but I 100% agree with you. Jimin's been acting like a fucking cockhead ever since he came back. Like what happened honey? it's like he saw that Tae moved on with his life when he died and is now trying to destory everything tae build just "to make sure he has space for him" LIKE BRO

ALSO I LOVE THAT COMPARISON BECAUSE IT'S SO FUCKING ACCURATE OMFG

now, even though i am pissed with jimin right now, i do understand why he is the way that he is. he literally has no one else but tae, while oc has an entire support system outside of tae. she has her friends hobi, jin, and emma, she has her own soulmate yoongi, she has (friend? lover?) jungkook. jimin has no one. meanwhile, tae is the same as oc in regards to a support system. i understand jimin feels threatened and doesn’t want to be alone, but is his loneliness really more important than tae’s happiness? he’s being extremely selfish right now.

this this THIS! It honestly "explains" why Jimin acts the way he does. It doesn't excuse it though and he really gotta think about himself for a moment because honey you're not being funny rn

maybe if he’d reach out and try to form bonds with other people, with tae’s support system, he won’t feel left behind. maybe if he wouldn’t push everyone else away, he won’t worry about being left alone whenever tae’s attention isn’t on him for five fucking minutes.

YES! THIS! I AGREE SO HARD OMFG!! like if he only realised that there are other people wanting to be his friend if only he stopped being so jealous all the time. Like even OC has been trying time and time again to befriend him and he always manages to fuck it up one way or the other like bruv please 😩😩

[lutherfordd]

The Recipe for a Perfect Morning Run

They say you should start your morning with uplifting energy. That’s the secret to a good day, they say. And I’ve mastered it. Every day starts the same: the same perfect routine, the same perfect execution.

I wake up at exactly 5:30 a.m., no alarm needed. My clothes are already laid out the night before. A quick stretch, a glass of water, and I’m out the door. My morning run is just as precise—a loop around the neighborhood Garden, a brisk pace past the Houses, and the grand finale at the Park. There, I reward myself with a hotdog from Ben’s stand.

Ben’s hotdogs are good—not amazing, not world-changing. But they’re reliable. A staple. And that’s what matters.

Routine. Perfection. Control.

This morning is no different. The air is crisp, my strides perfectly measured. The Garden looks as pristine as always, dew still clinging to the flowers. I round the corner to the Park, my stomach already anticipating the familiar smell of Ben’s grill.

But when I arrive, something’s wrong.

There’s no hotdog stand.

The spot where it always stands is empty, as if Ben had never existed at all. My chest tightens, but I force myself to keep walking, to maintain composure. This isn’t a big deal. It’s fine. It has to be fine.

I sit on a bench to rest, though my legs refuse to stay still. My hands twitch, my foot taps against the dirt. The unease won’t settle. This is just a small break in the routine, I tell myself. Nothing to worry about.

Beside me, an old man reads a newspaper, his posture relaxed, his face weathered but calm. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t acknowledge my presence. But after a few moments, he speaks.

“You ever wonder what it’s all for?” he says, his voice low and rough.

I stiffen, unsure if he’s talking to me. I don’t respond, keeping my gaze fixed ahead.

“You live your life thinking you’ll get it all right eventually. That you’ll wake up one day and the regrets will be gone. But they don’t leave. They just sit there, waiting for you to notice.”

I clench my jaw, refusing to engage. But his words press against me, peeling back the layers I’ve worked so hard to build.

“I lost my son,” he says, almost to himself. “Pushed him too hard to be perfect. Didn’t know when to stop. He grew up hating me, but I kept pushing. Now, he doesn’t even remember who I am. And you know what? I deserved it.”

His voice cracks, but he keeps going. “Funny how you can ruin someone’s life and still wake up every morning, isn’t it? Still eat your breakfast, still breathe.” He chuckles bitterly. “But I’m fine now. How about you?”

The question slices through me, and before I can stop myself, I respond.

“I’m not fine,” I admit, my voice trembling. “I’ve spent my whole life pretending everything’s fine. Like if I say it enough, it’ll be true. But it’s not.”

The words pour out now, unstoppable. “I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I’ve pushed people away, hurt the ones I cared about. And now... now I don’t have anyone. Not really.” My hands grip the edge of the bench as I exhale shakily.

I pause, my chest tight. “Except for Ben.” I laugh softly, the sound bitter. “He doesn’t even know what he means to me. He’s just... there. Every morning, with that stupid hotdog stand. And it’s the only thing that feels right. The only thing that doesn’t feel broken.”

My voice grows quieter, more uncertain. “I thought I was okay. But I’m not. I’m just... tired.” My throat tightens as I fight the lump rising there. “Ben doesn’t even know me, and I don’t deserve to know him. But he’s all I have left.”

The old man folds his newspaper deliberately, the sound crisp and final. He stands, adjusts his coat, and pats my shoulder lightly.

“You seem to care a lot about Ben,” he says, his voice softer now. “I’m sorry for what happened. The accident this morning really was tragic.”

The ground crumbles beneath me. My heart races, my chest feels like it’s caving in.

I sit frozen as he walks away, his figure disappearing into the distance. My thoughts swirl violently, but the world around me remains eerily calm.

Eventually, I stand. My legs feel heavy, but they carry me forward. Past the Park, past the Garden, past the House.

The route is broken, my perfect morning shattered.

And yet, I keep running. Because there’s nowhere else to go.

[mediocre-daydreams]

congrats on 100 followers!! i love ur writing so much and u 100% deserve it!

i feel like

“you flinched” + “are you afraid of me?”

with tasm!peter or any marauder you write for :)

angst with happy ending because i’m angsty but not that angsty y’know :/

-🌞

hellooo 🌞!! i'm so so touched by your message; every time i hear stuff like this my heart just melts. i did something quick for this one; hopefully the ending is happy enough for you. i was lowkey sad when writing this, but i just kept telling myself "you're his shot of espresso, you're sunshine," etc etc and even though angst comes concerningly easy to me, i'm determined to produce something fluffy in the future!!

i know you'd never

pairing: tasm! peter parker x gn! reader

warnings: arguing, angst and asshole peter (temporarily), hints to bad parent-child relationship, swears

w/c: 1.8k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you even listening to me?” peter scoffed, running his hands through his hair and tugging hard. it was a habit he’d picked up recently; being spiderman was growing more time-consuming and juggling school, his social life, and his superhero responsibility was leaving peter irritable and exhausted.

you nodded aggressively to place emphasis on your response. you didn’t feel like fighting today. *not that you felt like fighting with peter ever.) today had been particularly rough—you’d already quarreled with harry during english when you’d clashed over character interpretation and fussed over mary jane’s boyfriend when he’d made her cry in the bathroom.

“i- i’m sorry. yes, i’m listening,” you gulped, scratching your hands anxiously as you tried your best to maintain eye contact with peter.

 you could feel yourself shrink as the apparent power imbalance intimidated you into breaking the eye contact you had been fighting for. you were sitting timidly on the corner of peter’s bed while he was standing and looking down at you, upset.

“then why the fuck did you- god, you knew my showing was next week! i’d told you about my schedule too! so why. have you lost. my camera?” peter seethed pacing back and forth in his room.

“i’m sorry! obviously, i didn’t mean it! i don’t know what you want me to do; if i knew where it was, i’d give it to you!” you defended yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. as much as you didn’t have it in you to fight, you’d never been the type to let yourself be demeaned or attacked.

“well, i have a right to be angry! i let you fucking borrow the most important thing i have because you wanted to take pictures of your stupid fucking friends, and now my camera is gone. i have the darkroom booked for tomorrow and i don’t have any goddamn pictures to develop. do you know how hard it was to find an opening?”

you lept to your feet, sick of peter’s unwarranted disrespect. “don’t talk to me that way!” you threw your hands in the air in exasperation with a loud huff.

peter narrowed his eyes at you, examining your face, eerily quiet. you stared right back at him, challenging him to try and continue yelling at you.

instead, peter began to stalk forward, slowly, like a silent panther creeping towards its prey. you tilted your head, unfamiliar with this certain movement. you imagined it might be something peter did while donning his spiderman suit. now he was using it on you.

with each step peter took forward, you stepped back. it was a game of cat and mouse, and you were the rodent obviously losing. when you bumped into the foot of the bed, your knees buckled and you stumbled forward into peter’s chest. he took you by the shoulders and your eyes widened from the unexpected force.

“p-peter?” you choked, eyes flickering between peter’s fuming ones. “peter, let go of me,” you whimpered, mind taking you to darker places you’d never wanted to associate peter with. 

you’d had enough fighting in your life. parents, friends, people you’d trusted, and internal battles that’d taken years to overcome. you were tired. you hated yourself for being the reason that you and peter were fighting; you two rarely fought.

peter closed his eyes, jaw clenching. when he opened them, he let out a long, shaky exhale to calm himself down. but stepping back, the claw-like grip of his fingers on your shoulders releasing, didn’t stop him from jutting an accusatory finger out at you.

“you. you- i don’t know what you’re doing here. bold of you to run off to mine just because you aren’t getting along with daddy and mommy. you can’t just… use me like that. i’m not your therapist, or someone you can take advantage of and use their stuff, or an endless supply of forgiveness. i’m- jesus christ, you make me so fucking mad somet-”

you flinched. hard. the last thing you wanted to do was show even more vulnerability or make peter feel like he’d had some sort of effect over you, but you couldn’t control it. try as you might, you’d never been confrontational. you’d never even been good at pretending to be.

your voice cracked as you apologized for flinching, citing it as a gut reaction and nothing that peter himself had triggered. peter knew better, however.

“i- oh my god, i’m so- shit. shit, shit, shit.” the anger dissipated off peter’s face in a heartbeat, his outraged expression melting into one of shame and concern. he moved to touch you, which was his and your to-go way of comforting each other, but hesitated midair. it broke his heart to realize that his touch, the one thing you’d always trusted to keep you safe, was now the thing you feared.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands.

“no- baby, look at me. please,” he begged, voice wavering in a way you hadn’t heard since the last time you and he visited his uncle ben’s grave. your heart fell to your feet and managed to shatter into pieces on his carpeted bedroom floor.

“i’m the one who should be sorry,” he sniffed. cautiously, you peeked through your fingers and saw a regretful face before you, nose tinged pink. “i didn’t mean- god, i’m-” he stuttered, rubbing his eyes furiously. you were afraid he might rip out a few eyelashes.

“are you scared of me?” he whispered, so terrified that it almost sounded like a whimper. that did it for you. you’d never heard peter make a sound like that before.

your hands dropped from your face and slowly found a place on peter’s forearms. you took a steeling breath before forcing yourself to lock your eyes with his once more, something you’d been struggling to do this entire time.

“i- i’m not scared of you. i know you’d never…” you sighed, feeling a flash of guilt as you remembered how you’d compared peter to a predator only moments before. he was never predatory. he was the one person in the world you trusted most.

“i’d never hurt you,” peter finished. “i’d do anything to make sure you never got hurt. that nobody hurt you, and that i’d never hurt you. purposely or accidentally or physically or- or emotionally, or, um, spiritually,” he blabbered, eyes darting across your face to search for signs, anything, that revealed even a hint of discomfort from you. he found nothing.

“i know,” you whispered, your gaze still locked firmly on him. “i’m sorry.”

peter squeezed his eyes shut. “don’t apologize,” he said after a long pause. “you’ve been apologizing this whole time. i should be the one apologizing. i yelled at you, and then i made you scared, and that’s my fault. i was the one who made you scared, so you shouldn’t apologize for being scared,” he insisted, his hand slowly—and finally—creeping up to cup your cheek.

you shivered slightly at his touch but leaned into it, craving the contradictory feeling of comfort and distress that his hand was bringing you.

“i had no right- nothing i said to you was okay.” peter sighed, looking anywhere but you. you continued to examine his face in worry. (for yourself or for him, you weren’t sure.)

“i’ve been so overwhelmed with school and spiderman and… other things, and i took it out on the one person who’s been by my side the entire time, supporting me, and that was so stupid of me, and i’m so, so sorry.” he stifled a groan. “and none of that was fair to you. you deserved nothing from the way i treated you. everything i said… it was all wrong. i don’t really believe any of that,” he reassured you.

peter felt a warm presence sink into the palm of his hand. it was a single tear. you’d lost control of the silent emotions that’d been heating in your face the entire time, and slow signs of hurt were beginning to leak from your eyes.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love. i’m so-” he choked out a laugh. “i’m so stupid sometimes and god, i’m the luckiest man in the world to have someone continue to stick around every time i fuck up, and you,” he punctuated his next words with butterfly kisses to the tip of your nose, “are the most generous of all.”

you broke from your trance, finding it in yourself to giggle softly, much to your and peter’s surprise. you’d never let anybody talk to you like this for no reason, much less peter, but you’d never hold a grudge against someone who was genuinely remorseful, especially peter.

he pulled away from you and you couldn’t tell if you wanted him to leave or not. he sat a couple of inches next to you on the mattress.

“y’know, the reason i was so freaked was because i actually… the film was pictures of you,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his feet. “and i freaked at you because i thought you wouldn’t get to see you which is so dumb and-”

you smiled wobbily. peter felt a soft set of lips press against his effectively silencing him. it was a quick, chaste kiss, one that peter honestly did not deserve, but he’d always loved you for your generosity. now was one of those moments.

“we all do stupid things,” you sighed, “like me losing your camera. but i swear, i’ll find it. or i’ll at least help you. and the fact that you took- you did your project with pictures of me, god, i’ll never be able to understand that.”

you rose, presumably to search around his room for the camera, before peter grabbed your hand more delicately than usual and looked up at you this time, pleadingly. you quirked your head in question.

“i don’t need my camera right now,” he practically whined. “i love the thing, but not nearly as much as i love you. please, let me help you understand. let me help you understand why i want to photograph you. why i want to immortalize you and remember you forever and let everyone see you the way i see you, like art.”

you melted simply from the way his fingers threaded themselves between yours like they were crafted just to hold your hand. you nodded.

when peter pulled you to his chest and peppered your face with kisses, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch this time, instead of pulling away. peter had always been your comfort, your home, your protection. he’d loved you for a year and he’d promised he’d love you for more. the fear that jolted through you for just a second was only momentary. his love for you was lasting, or in his words, immortalized in film.

you trusted peter enough to forgive him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff

[tartaglias-bunny]

I really enjoy your headcanons😍 I was wondering if you could do some cockwarming headcanons for zhongli, diluc, and childe please 🥺💗thank you c:

i’m glad you like them so far! and yes i can! i’m gonna throw kaeya in there too, just for funsies

❀ ཻུ۪۪┊cockwarming; headcannons & drabbles

- ̗̀➛ NSFW WARNING || 18+

✿ pairings:

diluc, zhongli, childe, kaeya 

✿ author’s note:

i really hope you like these headcannons! i might do another set of headcannons before i take a break and finish the childe x reader fic i’ve been working on! so i hope you guys are excited for that 💕

✿ work in progress:

- ̗̀➛ sub genshin character x reader

- ̗̀➛ childe x reader (smut)

diluc

i think diluc is a really private person

like he values the intimate moments he gets to have with you and prefers not to share/let anyone see the side of you that he gets to see

the side that’s for him and him alone

so he probably won’t have you cockwarm him in public

diluc probably will have you cockwarm him after you guys have sex

he just won’t pull out because he relishes the feeling of the warmth your cunt provides him

your ribbed walls enveloping his cock in a warm hug

if you’re cockwarming him after sex then your back is probably pressed against his chest

and his arms are hanging loosely around your frame

he’ll pepper the side of your face with kisses, all the way down to your shoulder

while his fingers trace random figures on the side of your hip

another place diluc will have you cockwarm him is in the bath tub

or a hot springs if it’s a private one

if you guys are at the hot springs or in the bath, he prefers it if the two of you are face to face -with your chests flush against each other

it’s just easier to hold you in his arms that way and because he wants to get a good look of that cute face of yours when he starts to lower you down on his cock

that and he loves to see your cheeks darken when he’s fully sheathed inside your cunt

kaeya

kaeya is definitely the type to have you cockwarm him in public 

the thrill of getting caught is just too exhilarating -that, and he just loves to tease the shit out of you

he will probably have you nestled on his lap in his office

he’ll “innocently” ask you to come sit in his lap while he does his paperwork, only for it to lead to something else

“I can’t help it, you’re just too tempting.”

he’ll start kissing the side of your neck while his hands begin to make their way towards your inner thighs -his fingers delicately dancing over your soft skin 

it’s a never ending tease

the light touches will make you want more, but he’ll never give it to you until you admit it

he’ll touch every single part of you, except the parts where you need him the most

he’ll work you up until your cunt is throbbing in anticipation and your breaths are uneven from frustration 

there’ll be a shit eating grin on this mans face when he finally has you where he wants you

he’ll trace the outer shell of your ears with his lips, stopping at the base to nibble on your ear lobe 

“You’ll let me put it in, won’t you baby?”

and just like that your whole demeanor crumbles and you give into his desires

he’s a cocky little shit too

he’ll make you do it yourself

Kaeya’s eyes darken with lust as he watches the [h/c] girl slide her panties down her legs -taking the lacy material from her to shove them in his pocket for safe keeping, his blue like orbs glimmering in delight at the prominent wet spot that had formed in the middle.

Taking her hands in his, Kaeya guides them towards his belt buckle, allowing the girl to undo his pants.

Sliding the zipper down all the way, [f/n] pulls Kaeya’s boxers down just enough for his erection to spring free. Wrapping her hand around the base of his member, [f/n] gives his cock a couple strokes for good measure -making sure to give the tip extra attention, just how he liked it.

Positioning her legs on either side of him, the [h/c] girl got ready to lower herself down on his cock; her hands pressing against his chest for support, whilst Kaeya’s made their way to her hips -getting ready to guide the girl onto his cock.

Just as the tip of his dick prodded her entrance, Kaeya tightened his grip on the girl’s hips, forcing her to stop.

“Other way baby girl, I still have work to do.”

With a blush on her face, [f/n] does as she’s told, turning her body around before she’s finally allowed to sink down on her lover’s cock.

Her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his cock slowly pushing passed each crevice of her cunt, her pussy spasming in delight as his member filled her to the brim -the tip of his cock nestled perfectly between the folds of her cervix.

bonus :

he’ll probably be teasing your clit every now and then, trying to see how much you can take before you cum

thats is, if he even decides to let you cum

his favorite thing to do is tease you when someone enters the room

he’ll bounce you up every now and then to “rearrange” your position, but in reality, he just wants to feel your cuny clench around his cock

oh and remember your panties? you’re probably not getting them back anytime soon, so you better pray that the bottom of your dress doesn’t blow up on your way home

childe

like Kaeya he is also a cocky little shit

he loves to have you cockwarm him in public

especially if there are lots of people around

what can i say, he just loves to tease his precious ojou-chan~

“Not so loud ojou-chan, you don’t want anyone to find out what we’re up to don’t you?”

“Heh? Don’t tell me ojou-chan is secretly a pervert who enjoys being watched.”

a lot of outsiders will think you two are the cutest couple in the world with the way Childe always insists for you to sit on his lap -holding you close as if he’s never going to let you go

but what they don’t see is his semi erect cock perfectly nestled in between the juncture of your legs

childe is a dirty talker

he won’t touch you at all

once you’re fully sheathed on his cock, he lets his mouth do all the magic

the descriptive images he’s able to put in your head makes your cunt throb in anticipation and he can feel it

he loves knowing that he has this kind of effect on you

childe loves showing you off, but he also hates when other guys stare at you like they’re undressing you with their eyes

“Heh, look at that guy over there staring at us.” he points out, pressing a soft kiss against the girl’s shoulder as he kept his eyes focused on the male.

Tilting her head slightly to the right, [f/n] glances over at the man who was sitting two tables away for him. “Eying you as if the Jueyun Chicken on his plate isn’t enough,” he growls, before refocusing his attention towards the girl on his lap.

“If only he knew what was going on underneath.” he teases, his fingers playing with the hem of her dress, “Or maybe he does?”

[f/n] could feel the heat rush to her cheeks at his words, “You enjoy being watched, don’t you ojou-chan?” Childe smirks, resting his chin on top of her shoulder.

“That’s not true.” she meekly retorted, her mind hazy from how long his cock had been nestled inside her -the ginger had stayed idle for so long, the poor girl was just dying for him to move.

Desperately wanting to feel his cock drag along the inner walls of her cunt -wanting to feel every vein of his shaft rub against her.

“It’s not? Then tell me why your cunt spasmed when I told you he was watching us?”

zhongli

okay so imagine cockwarming zhongli as he’s telling one of his stories

most of the time he likes to maintain a professional look when he’s telling his stories, but he just can’t help himself when it comes to you

he’ll allow you to sit on his lap as he speaks and answers questions

every now and then you shift in his lap to fix your postition, sitting in one spot for so long can get tiring, you feel?

his eyes will slightly widen at the feeling of your ass unintentionally grinding against his crotch

pressing you firm against his lap, he’ll try to get you to stop moving

that way his little friend over here can stop growing

but it doesn’t really work out for him

because now the only thing he can think of is how good your ass feels against his dick

the limp muscle slowly starting to come to life at the friction you provided him -along with zhongli’s imagination

this is the only time this man begins to stutter when telling his stories or answering people’s questions

he has to try his best to keep his expression as neutral as possible once he feels you unzipping the zipper to his pants

his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching his fists once he starts to feel you sink down on his cock

from afar, it merely seems as if you’re getting up to position yourself in a more comfortable position

the feeling of your textured walls rubbing against the sides of his shaft make his balls twitch in anticipation -he wants more, no he needs more

but he can’t have his way with you just yet

an amused expression paints your features every time you clench your cunt around him

the soft grunt he lets out along with the sharp breath of air he intakes is like music to your ears

“Just wait till we get home.” he lightly growls into your ear

[scarofthewind]

Could I request for Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt (and anyone else you may want) on how they’d react to cumming very quickly, like they’re having a stressful day and haven’t dont *it* in a long time and it just happens. :) thanks

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I really liked this one....very spicy! Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, R18+, heated make-out sessions, mentions of oral, face-sitting, pet names

Characters: Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees and Bo Sinclair

word count: 2.05k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Thomas Hewitt: 

“I need you to go upstairs for me, pretty girl,” Thomas’ voice sounded darker than you remembered as you walked through the front door, letting your workbag rest against the coat rack. Your lover didn’t give you a moment to speak before he was trudging back down the steps of the basement where you heard a male beg for his life. 

With a sigh you obliged, running your hand down your stiff neck and wondering if you needed to take some time off work. You felt like you hadn’t seen Thomas, kissed him or even touched him in forever and it was starting to get to you. You both hated the fact that work had you going overtime and that he was doing busy work with stuff around the acres of land he had to maintain. All you wanted was to spend at least a full day with him where there was no work, just love making and talking. 

Making your way to the bedroom, you shut the door as the man started screaming, the familiar sound of Thomas’ chainsaw going off as you took your clothes off piece by piece and set them in the laundry hamper, reminding yourself to do laundry when you could. You moved sluggishly towards the shower, pulling the curtain back and turning the water on, getting it ready for both you and Thomas who you could hear bounding up the stairs as the water warmed. 

Strong arms covered in blood wrapped around your middle and chapped lips pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. “No more overtime and I’m taking next week off,” you told Thomas who hummed in response, pulling back to loose his clothing before following you into the warm shower. “I missed you so much,” you said softly, your heart aching at your words as the male stared down at you with a knowing feeling.

“I didn’t go anywhere, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead to which you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips, letting the water run over his red-stained skin. “But shit did I miss you too,” he growled against your mouth, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip while his hands felt up your body. One of your hands traveled down towards his cock, palming it gently and feeling it twitch to life before you began pumping the shaft gently. 

Thomas’ lips worked hungrily against yours as he pressed you against the shower wall, cupping your cunt with one hand before slipping past your lower lips and delving into your aching pussy. A soft cry left your mouth and Thomas felt himself snap at the feeling of your walls sucking on his fingers so tightly. Just the thought of what your pussy would do to his cock made him cum and he pulled away from you, apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry it just been so long and-”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” You say softly, bringing his lips back to yours. “It’s not like you can’t get it back up, right?” You smirk against his mouth and let out a shriek when he pulls you out of the shower and takes you to the bed, moving to lay between your legs and bringing his mouth to your sopping cunt.

Bo Sinclair: 

The man was practically tweaking when you walked into the house, Bo immediatley springing up from his spot on the couch and making his way towards you. “I’m sorry I’ve been too stubborn to apologize for our fight last week but please, please, please forgive me.” Bo was frantic, his pupils blown wide and an obvious tent in his shorts that made you bite back a smirk. 

“I can’t get off without you, I can’t sleep, I can barely eat because you know I can’t cook-”

“Bo, please stop talking.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose before pulling him upstairs to your bedroom, him still babbling about useless things the whole way. As soon as you get into the comfort of the room, you shut the door behind you and turn to face him. 

“I mean I can’t even get close to finishing, it’s like my dick’s broke-” you cut him off by grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Taking his hat off and throwing it to the floor so you could run your fingers through his messy hair, you felt him relax against your touch, his hands pulling your body against his. “Please,” he groaned and you obliged, moving him over to the chair by the window and letting him sit down before climbing on his lap and unzipping his pants, spitting in your hand before pumping his shaft slowly. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, hips bucking at your touch while his head was buried between your breasts. “That feels so good, baby, just like that,” he let out a string of curse words while you continued your actions, running your thumb across the tip a few times while feeling a familiar wetness grow between your legs. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Bo panted, his hips moving along with your hand as he came in thick white spurts to which you wiped on his shirt. 

“That was quick,” you teased, watching him glare at you before he moved, having you seated on the chair with your legs hooked on his bare shoulders when he removed his stained shirt. “You don’t have to, Bo.” You said, watching him shake his head and pull your pants down along with your underwear. 

“I told you didn’t I? I’m a starving man and I know good eatin’ when I see it,” he winks up at you before slowly making his way to your glistening cunt. With the way he works your body like a finely tuned instrument, it doesn’t take you long to finish either and by then, he’s hard and ready to go again.

Michael Myers: 

The air was knocked from your lungs the moment you walked through the front door as Michael shoved you against the wall, lips pressed against yours feverishly as his teeth practically clicked against your own. “What the hell, Michael?” You struggled to push the larger man off, moving slightly to the side and wiping your mouth from the wetness of the kiss. 

“I haven’t touched you in over two weeks, do you know what that’s doing to me?” He growled, pressing himself against you, your back one again meeting the wall. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of finally getting off after two straight weeks of overworking yourself and barely getting to see your ‘very busy’ serial killer lover. 

You let out a gasp when his teeth pulled at the skin on your neck, leaving various bite marks and bruises on your already sore body. “Calm down, you’re gonna kill me,” you whimper, feeling one of his hands dip between your bodies to rub your clothed pussy, the feeling still making you weak in the knees. “Bedroom, now.” You ordered, moving out from under him and not bothering to look back, knowing he was following you up the stairs. 

It didn’t take but a few seconds before you were topless, your bra still uncomfortably holding your breasts into place while you were shoved on the bed, Michael crawling on top of you faster than you could blink. Once again, his lips found yours and one of his hands found purchase on your neck, lightly thumbing over the dark marks he left there earlier while his tongue delved into your awaiting mouth. You could feel his cock straining against his pants as he slowly ground it along your pant-clad cunt, your panties becoming remarkably uncomfortable with how wet they were. 

A soft moan of his name left your lips when he slipped his hand from your neck into your pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down enough for him to feel how wet you were. “Oh fuck,” he grunted, his chest heaving as his hands stilled and his lips moved off yours. You stared up at him in confusion as he quickly stood up, stripping himself of his pants and boxers, cursing at the copious amounts of cum that coated his now softening cock. 

“That’s new,” you tease, watching his ears turn red before he curses again. “Don’t be embarrassed, we haven't’ done anything in a while so it’s natural.” You assure him, watching him roll his eyes before moving to lay on the bed. 

“I don’t need this from you, just come here.” He grunts, getting comfortable and curling a finger at you. 

“I don’t get it, I’m not gonna ride you when you’re soft, it’ll-”

“Not my dick, Princess,” he said with a smirk, moving his hair from his face and running a hand along his mouth, his tongue licking his lips. “Come take a seat, I wanna taste you.” You didn’t have to be told twice.

Jason Voorhees: 

It felt like their were a million things on your mind, but that he wasn’t one of them. Lately with work and your family, you’ve not been able to go out and see Jason all too much and it was starting to worry him. Did you grow tired of him? Did you find someone better?

He missed your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your body, your lips, your cunt; you name it and he was yearning for it. He hadn’t gotten off without you there since before he met you and he wasn’t about to do it again; it didn’t feel right to. So imagine your shock when you come through the cabin door, announcing your arrival and nearly getting tackled to the floor by your giant lover. 

“Jason, I missed you too but I can’t breathe,” you laughed, feeling him loosen his grip on you before cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss, his tongue swiping across your lip. A soft sigh leaves your lips and you drop what you have, shutting the door with your foot and ridding yourself of your coat, not caring where it falls. 

Jason can feel the bulge in his pants start to grow and he’s sure you can to by the way you run your hand over it. A shiver runs through his body before he yanks you over to the couch, wanting to be inside you as quickly as possible. “I missed you so much,” you whimpered against his lips when he lays you down gently, his frame moving between your legs and settling against your lower half. With a soft kiss to your palm before placing it on his heart, Jason told you that he loved you without having to speak before bending down again and reconnecting your soft lips with his. 

The cabin was quiet except for the soft pants and moans that came from the two of you as Jason practically humped your leg, his hands groping at the mounds of flesh on your chest while his lips worked wonders on your neck. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute and just as you were about to start peeling clothes off, Jason shot up and practically fell off the couch. “What? What happened? Is someone here, do I need to hide?” You asked with swollen lips, watching him hold one of the couch pillows against his front. 

“Jason what’s going on? Are you okay? Were we going too fast?” Your eyes never left his face but he stared at the floor as the gross, wet, warmth of his cum pooled inside his boxers, his pants showing a wet patch on the front to which he hesitantly showed you. he was ready to be teased but when you told him to come back to the couch, he did. 

“Look at me,” you said, gently cupping his face which was blushing a pretty shade of pink. “It’s alright. We haven’t been together in a while and you didn’t touch yourself while I was gone did you?” When he shook his head you smiled at him softly. “It’s natural to get worked up like that, it doesn’t mean we still can’t have any fun.” You whispered to him, watching his eyes narrow at you slightly before he grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you to the bedroom; challenge accepted. 

[awesomefringey]

Hi Sabine, hope you’re doing well. I’m watching the fandom fall apart and I’ve only been here a year. I’m shaking my head that in just a year, actions by these boys we fell in love with have driven away so many fans. It makes me sad. I’ve watched as many accounts I started following here and on Twitter as I came into the fandom just fall away disillusioned, never to return. NOT unlarrying, just deciding to not give them any more of their attention. It makes me sad.

Hi nonnie, I’m so sorry that the fandom space you created for yourself by following certain blogs and accounts, has become so unreliable for you. I hate to see my friends and moots frustrated too.

I’ve been away most of this week (a bit on and off prior too) and will be for another two, so I don’t have a front seat in this fandom and to what you’re experiencing right now.

But to me, longer than that, maybe since Harry filmed the most lifeless version of “Golden” for the Jingle Bells Ball in 2020, which we now know was around the time he signed for DWD, and Full Stop had drafted out what we now know as the most tiring movie promotional/bearding stunt of his career - there’s been a shift in everything. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Harry’s fully in on it, but I’ve got the feeling Harry’s insight on his fanbase is based on reports from his management who will use mere stats of engagement but won’t get into the “mood” behind online traffic. I have the feeling Harry is absolutely unaware how foolish he looks to so many, and that he would comment on spitgate - of all things - confirmed it to me.

Louis on the other hand, would still wear a golden H on his shirt for his 160k (possibly physically more) worldwide viewers of his livestream concert in December 2020 knowing Harry would kick off Holivia two weeks after, and Louis would still choose Harry’s tattoos fan art as canvasses on Spotify for the “Walls anniversary” more than a month later.

So I personally experienced Louis as the comforting one, I was leaning on him for carrying us through this shit. Until he wouldn’t anymore. Latest when he signed with BMG and committed to a certain image, a certain genre and a certain clear promotional narrative for himself. Louis still loves to play mind games with Larries, the Houston/Seattle/28 days apart/bluegreen shirt coding is cute. Yet, Louis also used a fan’s kid to try and end any doubts about his fatherhood within his newly growing fanbase of very young Louies on TikTok.

It’s been a very calculating move by his team and it proves, not only Harry is going to remain closeted but so will Louis (and his efforts can secure it with or without a gf).

And I think with that realization a lot of fans aren’t willing to stay. Either because they joined the fandom to be around for “the end” and just don’t see the fun anymore, or because they don’t feel like Louis and Harry actually want our support at this point. (And millions of other reasons, I’m just using the most common ones.) And while I won’t miss the first, the latter are the most passionate and invested ones. Those are the ones I follow too and it’s heartbreaking to see them stepping back from exhaustion. Especially the bigger accounts on here get sooo many anon asks, so many unfiltered angry, sad, doubting messages, most we don’t even put out there. Being exposed to so many different emotions in your inbox can be thrilling and exciting most of the time, but also super tiring on low days.

I think to step back for a bit, taking a break when you need it, is absolutely fair and crucial to maintain your health. We underestimate the hard work it is, to be an active member in this fandom. The amount of time we spend on here while having a real life and school and jobs, the stress we go through, the emotional rollercoaster day in and day out, the ever lingering fear of missing out… I feel breaks are wonderful too, because they allow us to remember what led us here to begin with, the pure love we have for both. So I hope those accounts/bloggers you’ve seen leaving, might return stronger too one day. Either way, I hope you’re ok! 💜

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦.

𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪 (+𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 18+ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1.5𝘬

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘰𝘺𝘴/𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺/𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘪 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘮𝘸𝘢𝘩.

“man, fuck you, the horse you rode in on, and your weak ass dick! just leave me the fuck alone.” you spit, arms crossed as you shoot the man in front of you a glare hot like jet fuel.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

izuku midoriya is one of the sweetest people to grace the earth

there’s no doubt about it.

but know he is not afraid to put yo ass in a fucking headlock and pound his way into you, voice thick and raspy as he asks you just who the fuck you think you’re talking to.

he’s grown up quite a bit since high school

and refuses to get bitched by anyone, especially his own girlfriend.

a saccharine smile inches across peony pink lips, spreading over porcelain teeth

“you uh... you wanna repeat that, honey?”

you know you’ve made a mistake

he’s got that look in his eye, ravenous and wicked

“look...izuku, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap like that—“

“that’s not what i asked. i asked you...if you wanna repeat that.”

would definitely strap your ankles to a spreader bar, reveling in the way you continue to writhe against it

only to cry out in desperation once you realize that the more you struggle, the wider your legs go

or he’ll make you cry as you struggle to form a coherent apology, words choppy from the the remote controlled vibe is sending shockwaves through your heavily sensitive clit

he’d kneel above you, smile wide and innocent as he turns it up to the second most powerful setting, hard-on growing at the sight of your head lolling back while you try to appease him with sorry after sorry

“i-izuku—fuck, fuck! mmh— it’s too much....please, please, ‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it, ’m too sensitive—please just let me make it up to you baby—“

“all you gotta do is say the magic words sweetheart, and i’ll give you what you need.”

yeah, he’s one of those motherfuckers.

“remind me who’s pussy this is, and this’ll all be over with.”

“god, fine!! it’s yours okay! nobody else’s..now please, please fuck me izuku, i need you—“

doesn’t hold back for a second when he’s staking his claim all over your body, a calloused thumb roving over your clit gently, mindful of your sensitivity but edging you closer and closer to a fifth orgasm

happily smears strings of thick, sticky cum all over your stomach to mark you as his

and doesn’t hesitate to lick it off the supple, soft skin of your torso, the milky white substance congealing with transparent slippery saliva

he grasps your face firmly, fingers pushing your cheeks inwards and causing your spit slicked lips to jut out in a pretty little pout

“open.” he mutters before dripping the salty concoction onto your awaiting tongue, a throaty groan rumbling in his chest as he watches you happily swallow every last drop

“good girl.”

the aftercare is immaculate, izuku taking his time to wipe you clean so tenderly, lips pressing against each and every bruise, your body pliant as he whispers sweet reassurances into your sweat soaked skin

“much better now, right?”

you nod, eyes heavy as you sink into the warmth of his chest, hands clinging to him like he could disappear at any moment

“happy i could help you relieve some of that tension honey.”

“but talk to me like that again, and i promise you that’ll be the last time you call anything about me weak, especially how i fuck you. got it?”

prepare to be not only throughly sore the next day, but to have to conceal fingerprint shaped bruises on your hips and thighs

takes pictures of your fucked out face to have for future incidents where you decide you wanna talk like you have zero home training

and isn’t afraid to flash katsuki one or two whenever he gets to talking about how he could take you from him.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

“so that’s how you wanna act, hm? if you needed some dick you should’ve just fuckin’ said so instead of always runnin’ your damn mouth.”

he whirls you around, pelvis pressing into the small of your back, rivulets of sweat beading at the base of your neck from his close proximity

he’s such a glutton for putting little bitches like you in their place.

blade sharp canines dragging against the curve of your neck, pathetic attempts to maintain your resolve falling from unsteady lips

“the hell’s wrong with you—you already know i’m with izuku...i’m not doing this shit to him again—”

but you were already gone when his lips slotted against yours, body throbbing at the contact

now izuku was a good lover, a giver, a pleaser at heart

always putting your enjoyment above his

but eventually one grows tired of slick tongues and curved fingers, pretty whines and gentle kisses

you wanted “fuck you”s, spit flying along sick expletives hurled at your bowed, desperate figure, sweet sticky semen coating your throat after it was abused and stroked as though you were a piece of plastic.

and as luck may have it, katsuki was more than willing to provide.

yet today you’d had enough, his subtle touches when you passed one another had garnered izuku’s attention; you’d reassured the male that it was nothing to bother with, that the two of you were just coworkers.

at least when his balls aren’t in your slutty fucking mouth, thick bubbled spit dripping onto your home screen as you text izuku that you’ll be home late for “stir-friday” once again.

the best sex was on days like today, when you got just a little too reckless at the mouth

when you needed a not so gentle reminder of who’s leaving you breathless all hours of the night

takes his time with you, fingers teeming with a slight brine as they’re sloppily thrust into your mouth with a “shut the fuck up talking to me like you don’t know who the fuck i am.”

degradation? baby, you’ve met the man.

“wanna act like a bitch, that’s fine. just don’t complain when i leave you limping like one, got it?”

you’re shoved atop a desk, it’s contents forgotten as katsuki latches onto a tit and proceeds to leave mark after mark, striving to rid any trace of your lover

panties tugged to the side, fingerpads waltzing up the length of your—no, his pussy

kisses down your sternum and the plush skin of your stomach, flipping you opposite him before snaking his tongue between your southernmost lips, devouring you like a man starved

but doesn’t let you cum, not yet anyway

“katsuki—please, i need it, don’t fucking tease..”

hates when you whine because it chips at his hard exterior, he’d give anything to pull another cry from you

“beg for it then. you had so much to say earlier, eh? go ahead and put your mouth to better use, fuckin’ slut.”

spanks you while he eats it from the back cause he can

and don’t even get me started on his size kink

lives for making you feel small against his large stature and even larger ego

“damn, you’re tight...thought deku would’ve broken you in a bit more for me by now—”

his pace is angry and unforgiving like his mouth, leaving you no mercy when he finally takes his place between your thighs

“that’s it...take that shit. don’t run...come on, tell me who’s dick you go dumb for, say it—“

“yours! j-just yours, never ‘zuku. fuck! m’ so fucking close please, please—“

cant fill you up like he wants, but settles for painting your body with splotches of white, watching them mix with your now-purpling bruises

and when izuku calls your phone on the hour to ask when you’ll be home, that cocky fuck answers

“relax. your little girlfriend and i are at the office with some reports, she’s so damn uptight...been on my dick this entire time. “

“should probably loosen her up more, maybe she’d be less annoying.”

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

he secretly loves it when you get like this

while dabi loves the rush of tossing around some brainless slut with a thing for fucking mass murderers

pussy was much better when it came with a little resistance, a little push back before he got what he wanted

“dabi come on..let her be. i’m sorry sweetness, this guy botherin’ you?”

his counterpart, keigo, was a top tier scumbag with grade-A looks, words mingling with a dulcet voice that could turn water into wine if he pleased

sienna wings bristled against his shoulder blades as he leaned down, an arm coming across your chest casually, bent over the back of the couch

“don’t call me that shit. actually, both of you are bothering me.” you grit, a hand swatting away tanned nimble fingers that were slowly making their way towards a breast

“see what i mean kei? she’s being a fucking brat. can’t stand bitches like her, always thinking they’re too good for guys like us.”

dabi takes a seat to your left, cyan eyes raking over the curve of your hips ravenously, staples gleaming in the bar’s gentle yellow glow

he was going to have so much fun breaking you in.

“ i think i know what her problem is....somebody just wants a little attention, right? hell, look at how she’s dressed...”

keigo’s eyes have taken on a darker energy, a hand winding around the width of your neck and squeezing lightly

“i don’t want anything from either of you assholes—wait, the hell are you trying to—ah!”

taking advantage of your pliant state, dabi’s hands begin to roam over exposed skin, a scarred set of hands slithering up your top

his abrasive fingers tweak your nipples roughly, rolling them between a forefinger and thumb with a lustful glare

“come on...don’t you want us to make you feel good? tell us you don’t want us to cream you like a fuckin’ twinkie, and we’ll leave your bitchy ass high and fucking dry, just like this.”

you hate them, the last thing you want is for either of these douchebags to be what gets you off

but god do keigo’s lips feel like heaven on earth when they’re against your pulse point like that, and dabi’s profuse experience shows in the way he manipulates your body to make you sigh in ecstasy, fingers slipping past drenched lace with ease to tease your sensitive clit...

“we—we shouldn’t do this out here, someone might see...s-shit, ah fuck—”

“so what? don’t want everyone to see how much you like getting double teamed?” keigo taunts, tongue darting out to soothe the harsh bruise he’d finished sucking into the skin beneath your ear

“nah, i think we’ll take you right here. besides, it’s just us and the boss man tonight. ‘should let him watch though, maybe he’d learn a thing or two about what a good fuck really looks like instead of that hentai shit.”

“so...you in or not? my hand’s starting to cramp.”

you nod, the motion serving at the catalyst for a number of debaucherous things that would soon happen to your body

marking is an absolute must

keigo’s practically feral once he knows you’re his to play with, love bites littering the expanse of your tits, neck, even the inside of your thighs

dabi marks you too, but he’s not nearly as nice as keigo, leaving handprints all over your ass, each one accompanied by a harsh yet tolerable burn

you can thank his quirk for that

they’re sloppy and they know it, dabi’s spit creating web-like strings connecting your pussy lips together, the metal barbell wedged between tongue muscle retreating from beneath your trembling thighs

meanwhile keigo’s reveling in the way your spit coats his dick in an effortless gloss, a hand keeping your head steady as he drives into your throat with reckless abandon

the saliva making its way down through the valley of your breasts while you struggle to breathe, eyes watering in both panic and pleasure as the two use you like a toy

they take turns, metal and heady sweat flood your tastebuds when dabi takes on keigo’s previous stance

dabi certainly makes sure you give his balls special attention. it doesnt enhance his pleasure, he just likes seeing you get so nasty for him.

not so high and mighty when you’re gargling the dick of one of japan’s most wanted, are you?

keigo’s dick reaches depths you didn’t think possible, tip prodding your innermost spots and making you sputter pathetically around dabi’s length, eyes burning as you try to control the heat in your lungs

“nah nah nah, don’t get all teary eyed now—thought it was “fuck us and our weak ass dick”? hm? well this weak ass dick’s makin’ you choke like a two dollar whore, and keigo’s about to pump that sloppy cunt full of cum...still think you’re better than us?”

you’re tossed between the two men like a ragdoll, until your body’s spent and you’re bred so good that you drip with their mix of fluids every time you shift a little

the men don’t hesitate to compliment your endurance, praising you for being “such a good little fucktoy”.

which in dabi’s words, is the closest you’ll ever get to a “sorry for bothering you”.

𝘢𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘸𝘢:

let me tell you a thing or two about shota.

he has no time, or tolerance, for bullshit.

between his atrocious sleep schedule, nightly patrols, and his day job as a high school teacher, he doesn’t have the capacity for mind games

so when you’d snapped on him like that, he did what he felt like was the most logical thing

he left you alone. he wasn’t about to get into some childish argument all because he didn’t give you the reaction you’d wanted over a dress

aizawa’s not a reactive man by nature

so when you’d purchased the sultry number, seams tight and neckline waivering on indecent

he’d merely hummed at the article of clothing in approval, committing the sight to memory before going back to finish reviewing his lesson plans for next week

which to you, wasn’t good enough. you wanted him to exhibit some sort of lust, something that made you feel like you still had him in the palm of your hand

it wasn’t like the two of you weren’t having sex, no not at all. but you wanted to feel like he wasn’t just attracted to you, but craved, desired, was desperate for your touch every now and again

and when he’d given his...lackluster feedback, you exploded, the two of you briefly exchanging words before you’d said that. shota was in no mood to argue, so he excused himself from the room to continue his work

“sorry if i actually want to, you know, feel desired by my own boyfriend? god, it’s like you don’t even look at me anymore.”

that comment stung, even recalling your wounded tone made his heart ache

was he really not paying attention to you?

but, unsurprisingly, the feelings of anger didn’t abate. just what made you think you could play these games with him, the two of you were grown, you knew if you wanted something all you had to do was ask—it made no sense

steel pen tip digging into the hurried scrawl of kaminari’s essay....if you could even call it that, he rose from his desk, relieved his tense neck from the presence of hair by knotting it into a high ponytail

beginning to strip as he made his way toward your shower

you wanted him to look at you? alright. he’d do exactly that, and then some. just remember, be careful what you wish for.

“shota? look... i’m sorry for how i acted earlier. i should’ve just communicated how i felt instead of blowing up on you like that, i just get frustrated with how much you work and how we never see each other, and it makes it hard for me to—mmph!”

he meets your lips with a subdued roughness, hands splayed across your hips, water trickling across stiffened knuckles while he fumbled and scoured for any piece of you he could manage to grasp

“you said you feel like i don’t look at you anymore.”

“lets fix that. i have a proposition for you. if you manage to hold eye contact with me for however long it takes for you to cum, my body’s yours to do whatever you want with.”

“however...look away for even a second, and i’ll have no problem reminding you just how much you can take before you’re begging for me to fuck you. you know how...efficient i can be. sound fair?”

now something he’d alluded to, but never said about this little agreement? there was no way for you to win.

on days where his exhaustion levels weren’t at an all time low, he’d find himself lapping at the slightly acidic, rich nectar between your thighs for hours and hours on end

so what made you think you even had the resolve to maintain eye contact the entire time?

you lose, though that was to be expected

and shota couldn’t be happier about it

now while it’s practically canon that he’s into bondage, let’s switch things up a bit

honestly, he’s the type to love proving a point.

he’ll make you ride his dick, not letting you stop for a second even though he’s practically in your stomach at this point

bad at it? he doesn’t care. your knees are giving out? not his problem.

“sho-please, i can’t, ‘s too big...fuck—“

“damn, and to think i had ‘weak ass dick’ before. now you can’t take it? pick a side sweetheart, your desperation is showing.”

he’s not incredibly vocal in the bedroom as that’s just not who he is

but makes an exception when it comes to making fun of you

“come on, you can swallow more than that, right? tch. you’ve gotten lazy.”

is another one of those “take a photo for future reference” type of people. but he’s respectful of not only your privacy but his own, and keeps it in the hidden photos folder of his camera roll like a sane adult.

he had to learn the hard way about the importance of concealing scandalous materials that one time hizashi was using screen sharing to suggest a new learning course during a staff meeting

only for the blonde to scroll and several pairs of eyes in the room to be blessed (or cursed) with the sight of a rather ecstatic looking woman bent in a position that would make a gymnast blush

also likes to give you sloppy, shallow half strokes to drive you to the point of insanity before spreading your ass cheeks and molding your body to the bed beneath you

“you wanna know what i was thinking about when you walked out with that dress on? hm? i wondered... ‘how long it would take before we used it as a cumrag after i was done with you?’ i thought about doing this.”

oh, and by the way, there’s a mirror above your bed for a reason. but we’ll get into that some other time, won’t we?

[bubbledumbbinch]

Heya! Congrats on the 100+ followers!! Your writing is really good and I enjoy reading your works!

If you dont mind, what would be your headcanons on the TWST dorm leaders of what prefrences they have for a S/O? Like what would they want in an S/O? (Also Im sorry if this has already been asked Im also kinda new to your blog as well ;w;)

Hii!! And thank you 🥰🥺💕 that means a lot to me!! I hope you stay and continue to enjoy yourself here!This hasn’t been asked before so I hope you enjoy!!! ;w; I hope you all enjoy I had a fun time (and a difficult time) writing this out! I think I made it too long, again ;w;

I made this SFW uwu just some fluff!!!! But please keep in mind before you follow me, I MOSTLY POST NSFW works.

Warnings: slight story spoilers for episode 5, for Idia’s part, if u squint

Pairings: Dorm Leaders x Reader

I put things under a cut for length!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would probably want a partner who does well in school - at least someone who tries to! It would go against his own desires to do well in life if he has a partner who doesn’t have the drive to succeed like he does.

He isn’t particularly fond of people who have a lot of potential yet waste it on being lazy. Like I said before, it goes against his own morals.

I also see him wanting someone fun-loving! Riddle grew up in an environment where fun was essentially taboo so he would be drawn like a moth to a flame to someone who has so much energy in them. Remember one of his best childhood friends is Che’nya so he would probably not hate the idea of joking around and being silly once in a while!

Someone who would love sweets like him! Not too often so he could maintain his shape, but someone who would love to indulge him once in a while!

Riddle would love to see an S/O who makes time for him and the unbirthday parties that Heartslabyul hosts! He feels like a good dorm leader and seeing you make an effort to come makes him feel like a great boyfriend too!

“Ah, Y/N, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it today.” Riddle sighed to himself in relief. He feared his rose would come to the party late. “Ah, sorry Riddle! I was late because I was studying for Professor Crewel’s exam but I lost track of time!” You breathed out, a bit exhausted from running.

The redhead only nodded and smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it, my rose. We’ve only just begun the party, so no need to fret.” Riddle’s gentlemanly ways never failed to make your heart soar. “No no, I’ll make it up to you! I’ll bake you a tart sometime, you’ll let me right?” You playfully nudged at your boyfriend’s arm and smirked.

Riddle could only blush furiously. “Th-that would not be a bad idea. I suppose I would accept the gift graciously, dear, but only if we can cook it together. I believe it would be beneficial to both of us to learn!”

Leona Kingscholar

Someone who loves to nap with him like all the time

Leona would definitely want someone who is willing to praise him a lot. Growing up he never really had that and felt like he was overshadowed by his big brother, so this guy needs validation like crazy. Tell him how strong he is, how much you love him, how warm he is… he’ll scoff and look away but you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He secretly loves it.

I feel like Leona would like bratty tsunderes, for some reason. He would be the perfect teasing type for them and I think I can just picture Leona and his S/O getting into play fights that lead to something more, if you catch my drift.

Someone who can be “refined” enough for show so that when he brings you home to his family, they can accept you fully. The last thing he wants is his family pestering him about how his potential mate isn’t a good fit.

As tough as he may be he def wants someone at the end of the day to stroke his head and calm him down after a long and stressful day.

“Oi, herbivore, come here and be my pillow.” Leona’s gruff voice broke the silence of his room. He was sitting up on his bed while you studied on his desk. Giggling, you made your way into his bed, crawling over to where he was. Leona pushed your torso down gently and started nuzzling his head on your chest, and you could feel the vibrations coming from his body that was like a low growl. Or was it purring?

“Of course, anything for my big strong boyfriend, the best Magift player in the school, my one and only love~” you endlessly praised him, smiling at him as if he were a rare diamond. Leona only huffed as he wrapped his muscular arms around your form, effectively preventing you from leaving.

“Tch…. Damn right….” Leona mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me more while I start drifting to sleep?” Leona smirked. Running your fingers through his hair carefully, you obliged, feeling Leona’s breathing become more calm as you continued.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul would ALSO want someone who praises him, due to his years of being bullied. Call him beautiful, smart, tell him he’s the most cunning man on campus. He EATS IT UP. This man will swear on his life for you.

He also would want someone who has the ability to work hard… what? The Mostro Lounge needs extra workers sometimes! Azul thinks that if he can own the lounge, manage contracts, AND study hard for school, his S/O should be able to match him!

I can see Azul absolutely praising/spoiling his S/O too. Since you give him so much happiness in his life he should pay it forward, no? What would you like, a new dress/suit? A new piece of jewelry?

Someone !!! Loyal!!! Azul wants someone who he can feel secure with in a relationship, so he probably wouldn’t want you to flirt with anybody else since his insecurities will SPARK UP like crazy!

Azul wants someone who loves him for who he is, unconditionally!

“Angelfish… hello, good evening. I’m sorry if I am a bit more tired than usual, I just finished with ordering more inventory for the lounge and dealing with some paperwork.” Azul sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You dropped your bags on one of the chairs of the VIP room and walked over slowly to your octomer boyfriend. Bringing your arms to his shoulders, you slowly begin to knead and massage his arms gently. Azul groaned at the contact, muscles aching.

“How is this, Azul? I know how hard you work, you deserve to take a break too, sometimes…” you spoke gently into his ear, kissing the shell of it. The contact gave him slight goosebumps. “Ah, I would love to but, I have so much more to do… I know it’s going to be a late night for me, so why don’t you head on to sleep?” You tsked, upset with his answer. “I know it’s late Azul, that’s why I’m here. You know, if you keep doing this you’ll get wrinkles, right?”

“Ahem! Well. Then, this might be a good place to stop if that’s the case…” Azul huffed, standing up quickly to retire to his room, you in tow.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim wants someone who is cheerful! They may not be a ray of sunshine like he is, but I honestly can’t picture him with someone smug/gloomy. Kalim might be dense but he isn’t THAT stupid. I think he would be able to notice if you were upset which makes him upset.

Someone who is down for anything, Kalim would love to take you on a ride on his magic carpet at random hours of the day so be prepared to drop whatever you’re doing if you want to appease your impulsive boyfriend!

A fun loving person for sure, who isn’t super self conscious about what people think. If he asks you to dance with him he would really love for you to join! He wouldn’t want you to say something like, “oh, but I’m a bad dancer…” Kalim would shake his head and ask you why you would say that! It’s all about having a fun time together, right?

A patient lover is what Kalim would want as well, someone who’s kind, too. At the end of the day when Kalim is ready to sleep after his crazy antics, he wants a partner he can be able to lay next to and feel like himself.

Someone who loves him even if he weren’t rich, Kalim would want someone for their personality and not materialistic things or beauty. Kalim sees someone for their heart ! (*´꒳`*)

You yawned heavily while rubbing your eyes. Was that a tapping noise coming from the window? “Ugh…. What time is it?” Checking your phone, you saw it was 1:30am. You also had a text from Kalim.

*tap tap tap*

You groggily walked over to the window and opened the curtains to see Kalim sitting on his magic carpet with the biggest grin upon seeing you. Opening the window, you giggled lightly. “Good evening Kalim, fancy seeing you here so late.”

“Hi, Y/N!! I woke up and felt bored so, you wanna join me on a night ride around campus?” Kalim practically beamed at you, even this late at night. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. The boy’s positive energy also transferred to you, effectively waking you up.Stepping onto the carpet from your window was your answer. After getting situated, you kissed Kalim’s cheek and held his hand. “Of course Kalim, I would love to.”

Vil Schoenheit

Someone who can tough out his callous words and treatment. Vil might be a bit much, but the reason why he does this is because he does it with the goal of ultimately helping you. He only wants to see the best out of people, including but not limited to his little sweet potato!

Someone who is patient. He knows he checks who the most beautiful person is quite often and he doesn’t do it to annoy you, it’s just for his own personal validation issues. Lay a hand on his arm, back, or head to give him praises and let him know he’s beautiful to you no matter what.

Someone who is willing to pepper him lightly with kisses (not the face though, he has makeup on!). He definitely eats it up and loves it so much, he feels like you are treating him like a king. He’ll pay that back tenfold and give you beauty treatments, it’ll feel like you’re at the spa on a weekday!

Vil is constantly posting on Magicam, depending on whether you’re comfortable enough to be posted on there he would want to make sure you are okay with him constantly taking photos to be posted on there. Whether it be food you cooked, matching couples outfits, or even pictures of you without makeup, be ready to face comments of all sorts coming from his fans.

“Mira Mira on my phone… Currently, who is the most beautiful of all?” You heard Vil speak outside of his room. Currently you sat on the small chaise at the foot of his bed. Vil told you he needed to step out for a second, so you could get ready for bed now. After putting on your sleeping clothes, Vil finally came back in, seeming more irritated than before. His eyebrows furrowed and his body looked tense.

“Vil, are you alright?” You questioned him as you made your way to his bed, slipping under the covers. Vil only sighed and exchange a quick “Mm.” as he changed into his pajamas and came to join you. He was turned so his back was facing you and he was a bit distant. You knew he didn’t get the answer he wanted when he got those search results back. You didn’t know how to convince your boyfriend otherwise but you decided you needed to talk to him.

“Vil, darling…” you spoke gently as you nuzzled closer, your chest pressing into his back. Your arm wrapped around him to pull him closer, to which he responded with finally relaxing in your touch. “You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me, Vil, I don’t know if you realize how lucky I am to have such a loving, caring, and talented boyfriend like you. Your beauty is simply the cherry on top of the person I fell in love with. To me, you’re perfect. I love you.” You ended your tangent by placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder, dozing off.

You couldn’t see Vil but he trembled lightly as tears silently fell down his face. “Thank you… I love you too, my sweet potato.” Vil whispered into his pillow. With you, he always felt like the most beautiful person.

Idia Shroud

Personality wise, I don’t think Idia would be picky. He’s a shy person and honestly would be surprised he could get an S/O at all! So is Ortho!

Speaking of Ortho, Idia wants someone who is kind and loving to his little brother. Knowing his partner loves his brother would only make him fall for you harder!

Probably someone who would give Idia his own space until he finally felt comfortable and wanted to take it further, he would prob take a few days to even kiss you!!!

Idia wants someone to be his player 2 :) like actually, come over and game with him and he’ll probably be the happiest boy ever.

Big big bonus if you love anime, cosplay, gaming, etc. It’s one thing to be an otaku like Idia but when he has a partner to fully indulge in his interests with?? It’s a win-win situation for everyone! He wants to do a couple cosplay one day if he gets the courage to ask you.

Someone who won’t pressure him too much. If you remember how Riddle pressured Idia into trying to speak publicly, you know how much of a scary situation it put Idia in, even though he was able to do it. Stressing him out is just gonna make him unhappy :(

Someone who enjoys spending as much time inside as he does! I’m not talking a hikikomori but someone who wouldn’t be opposed to staying inside with him 99.9% of the time lol

“Y-Y/N-shi, would you like to g-go on a date with me soon?” Idia fumbled with his fingers, looking away as he asked you. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Idia, this is the first time you asked me to ‘go on a date’. Don’t tell me, are we actually going out somewhere?!”

“Eek! D-don’t be ridiculous, Y/N!!” He almost screeched the words out. Suddenly he pulled out a couple of VR headsets with hand controllers, and handed one to you. “Fuhehe, I just made a bunch of simulation locations. We could go to the park, a restaurant, even an amusement park..!” He grinned showing off his teeth.

You giggled at Idia’s enthusiasm, loving the way he gets after speaking about his own creations. “What a wonderful idea, Idia. Maybe we could take Ortho to the ‘amusement park’ too? We’ll be a big family.” You mused. Idia’s face brightened and a faint pink tinge covered his cheeks.

“F-family, huh? Ah, Y-Y/N-shi…. That would be n-nice…” Idia blushed as he considered what the future would bring for the both of you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus would also mostly not have preferences on a person’s personality. Like, he wouldn’t say something like: “I want someone shy vs someone bold.” Anything his child of man does is interesting to him and he’s entranced by you!

That being said, Malleus would not tolerate rudeness, disrespect to him, Lilia, or his fellow dorm mates, etc. He may love you but he values those bonds more, especially Lilia’s and his grandmother’s.

Malleus wants someone who is willing to teach him human tendencies, since he is curious about them. Malleus will also probably never stop asking you about your life in the previous world, and listen passionately as you describe the hobbies you had, family members, etc.

As long as you continue to love and treat Malleus like a normal person and with kindness, he will continue to love you endlessly. He’s so unused to it that he will feel so special as you only coo in awe instead of fear away, if he showed you a magic trick or maybe donned more of his draconic features like his tail or long claws.

You walked with Malleus under the bright moonlight in the woods near Ramshackle dorm. His height and charm never failed to impress you. And his face, he was so very handsome. His striking green eyes always made you feel hypnotized and his horns were so well taken care of, you almost wanted to reach out and-

“Hm, Child of Man… you do know it’s quite rude to stare, yes?” Malleus chuckled and suddenly broke the silence, making you gasp. “Ah, sorry Tsunotarou. I-,” searching your thoughts, you just couldn’t think of anything quickly enough. “I just couldn’t help myself. You’re very attractive.” You murmured, admitting defeat.

“Oh? Do I not intimidate you, my dear? Usually humans and even other fae fear my features and tend to shy away…” Malleus looked down in thought as he continued walking. You wrapped yourself around one of his arms as he walked, effectively stopping him in his place. “Well, you don’t intimidate me! I like being around you, so, let’s keep it that way. I want to stay with you for a long time so don’t get too tired of me okay, Malleus?”

Hearing you say his given name only made the fae’s heart beat harder in his chest. Surely you knew what you did to him. He smiled down at you, green eyes softening in your gaze.

“I assure you I won’t, little human.”

[probably-haven]

I’ve been thinking about Childe a lot recently- because my friends slander him relentlessly and other than one person who kinda semi-likes him I’m the only one who actually likes his character.... and I know I’ve slandered him a fair amount myself but just- 

-

He was a child. 

A child - No ‘e’. No puns. No jokes. Not this time. 

He was only fourteen. 

-

His story described him as “frightened and hesitant” prior to his time in the abyss. All he wanted was an adventure of his own. To make an adventurer of himself, the likes of which he had heard so many times in the stories of his father. To be like him. He didn’t even go seeking the abyss or any kind of grave danger or incredible power, he was just a naïve little boy, running away from home with almost nothing in chase of a story of his own. 

And yet he was fated to fail, and everything went south almost immediately. Lost in the freezing cold forest environments of Snezhnaya, he was completely alone save for the wild animals on his trail. And by an unlucky roll of the dice - or perhaps because in that moment, his desire and drive to survive, to live, to get back to his family, was so strong that even the abyss itself took notice - the world he knew was stripped away. 

Scared and vulnerable with only a shortsword for protection, Ajax was torn from what already would have served to be traumatizing enough for the child, and thrust into something immeasurably worse. 

Described as “a bottomless crack in the earth’s surface,” “the endless possibilities of another ancient world,” and “the darkest corners of the universe;” the abyss is not a place that ordinary people are meant to survive.  Now I could go on about what the abyss may be or who the swordswoman might be or what might have happened to him, but the point is: it doesn’t matter what happened, his trauma is trauma nonetheless and its not in his control nor is it his fault how his brain decided to process it. Regardless, I think “endless possibilities” within the “darkest corners of the universe” speaks well enough for the severity.

Even without this however, it is important to note that for three months of what logically would have driven anyone to or past the brink, he had one consistent point of relative safety in the form of the swordswoman, a person who while training him for destruction, was also deliberately manipulating into him “the ability to stir up endless havoc.” 

Placed in an extremely traumatic situation like this and being manipulated by one he would have been forced to see as an anchor of sorts, simultaneously holding him together and molding him into the twisted version of himself that she wanted him to be; Realistically, Childe is more a victim than anything else.

And he returned - still only a fourteen year old child - to his home. 

Now an interesting point: based on the wording of his character story, it seems as though when he came out from the abyss, his new demeanor actually unnervingly reflects his hopes when he ran away, implying that the swordswoman very well could have used his own ambition as a cruel mirror to shape him based off, or used them merely as an additional manipulation tactic. “He acted as if this world revolved around him, and as if battle existed for his sake.” Almost as though he were truly the protagonist in an adventure story of his own, just like his father before- or perhaps that’s what he was made to believe. 

Regardless, Childe quickly gained a reputation for havoc, chaos, and violence, as it followed him and he spread it wherever he went, just as he had learnt to do during his time in the abyss, constantly seeking that unpredictability, the thrill of combat. 

And this continued until he went too far, and in response to this, the father that he admired so greatly sent Ajax away into the strict military environment of the Fatui. The idea was that the highly strict environment of training for the literal military, would “hone his son’s temper.” Not dampen, or control, or reduce in any way, but “hone” - to sharpen it, to refine and perfect it. And he watched “fully-armed troops getting the stuffing beaten out of them by a mere child.“

He was only a child. 

Everything he went through in the abyss and all the changes he went through himself, only to be shipped into military by the family who could no longer handle dealing with the effects of what he experienced... 

And he was just a kid. 

-

oh but they honed his temper alright. Not only was he entered in this military training like his father had planned originally, but soon after, the young child was selected and placed within the official ranks of the Fatui themselves under the guise of being a punishment.

Told to work his way up the ranks from the bottom, the Fatui “honed” his temper and penchant for combat towards the purpose of serving the Tsaritsa, encouraging these tendencies that would only continue to grow stronger and more apparent with time as a result of their actions, which was exactly their intent. These, psychologically and neurologically, were the key years for his mental development.

And once again the young Ajax found himself the victim of another’s subtle manipulation.  Until he was Ajax no more. 

-

Childe has been under the constant task of further proving himself since enlisting in the Fatui, and once he gained the recognition of the Tsaritsa, the only next possible way of doing that was by comparing his skills to others. And thus far, he has exceed in this time and time again, so with the evidence before him his arrogant confidence in his abilities is by no means unreasonable. Nor is his tendency to express friendship and varied other things through combat, it’s only natural after besting others in battle became his main source of acknowledgement throughout his younger years. 

He’s fiercely loyal as well, to the point where - were his sense of loyalty not so shrouded in his delusion of what loyalty is meant to be - it would likely border on codependency. He also doesn’t seem to have the greatest understanding of social cues, as expected with his combat-oriented upbringing, and tends to have an unnerving aura to a lot of the things he says that he doesn’t seem aware of. 

His loyalty to the Tsaritsa rings true, and seems to be his highest priority above all others, an ideology that, once again has been drilled into him since the age of 14. However, despite this, he is disliked and avoided even by his fellow harbingers, and often kept out of their true plans in a way that clearly shows what low opinions they have of his abilities in certain areas. 

And yet, through it all, he still maintains his own set of values and seeks to make genuine connections which people, which while these efforts may be unsuccessful in most cases, and these values far in between - It still firmly shows the strength of his character which, though in fragments, managed to remain as a part of who he is in spite of his circumstance. 

-

And i get that he’s memeable and slanderable and easy for a lot of people to just hate outright, i really do but sometimes it feels like a lot of people only ever see him at surface value and a lot of people dont even know his story and even fewer still actually consider the implications of that background. He was literally a child soldier - that and even more; “endless possibilities” more.

I have nothing against Childe slander, genuinely - but eventually, when it reaches a certain extent...

It’s not bad, I’m just tired.