#I think I’m cringing

[candiiee]

ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴀ ꜱɴᴀᴄᴋ *ೃ༄

Izuku M. x female reader (aged up!)

summary: you get hit by a love quirk, and poor Izuku gets smothered with your love and affection

warning: horny reader, swearing, M*neta, reader ready to rail him

an: based off a c.ai bot. Crack. Idk what spurred me to write this

————————

You were out on patrol, your fellow heroes in training Red Riot and Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight at your side. You were all after a villain, who had some weird love quirk that made people overly affectionate and, well, horny… you couldn’t have that happening obviously.

You leaped at the villian, a kick aimed at the head, when suddenly, he touched your leg with his hand swiftly, and you felt something tingly spreading through your body, and you fell limp.

Kirishima’s scream could be heard in the background, and last thing you saw was black boots as your vision faded to black.

You woke up in your room, eyes hazy and vision blurry as you came to. You felt..weird. And hungry.

Izuku started to make himself a sandwich, having been craving it for quite a while and hadn’t found the time to make one. Suddenly you walked into the kitchen, stumbling a bit.

He greeted you, smiling a bit. “Hi L/N!” You and him weren’t friends per se, but you were on good terms, and he definitely didn’t find you attractive. His eyes met yours, and he could immediately tell something was wrong.

Your pupils were heart shaped, face flushed and eyes half lidded, a hungry look on your face.

Izuku blinked in surprise, breaking the eye contact. She hadn’t answered, instead walking over. This was creeping him out.

Though from what he could tell, she was under some quirk’s effects. Suddenly he felt a weight behind him, arms snaking their way around him, pulling him flush against her.

He went red, while he had hugged a girl before, the unexpected sensation of a behind hug was startling. “H-hah?! L/N?” He managed to say, his hands moving frantically.

This wasn’t real. The girl he had liked was hugging him. This isn’t real this isn’t real, He thought, turning redder and redder.

“Hello Izuku-chan!” What you said muffled as you pressed your face into his back, your hands slipping under his shirt, causing him to flinch and deeply inhale as your hands touched what they could reach.

He started to stutter, trying to put together a sentence, as he suddenly let out a squeak as he felt your hands caressing his toned torso, pinching his skin. If he endured any more of this he would explode.

He somehow managed to pry your sneaky fingers away from him, turning around to face you, grabbing you by the shoulders and holding you at arm’s length.

“L-L/N! What was that!” He stuttered, feeling slightly disappointed to lose the warmth of you.

You tilted your head, gazing at him hungrily. “I wanted a snack.” You coo, eyeing him up and down. He swallow thickly, “O-oh..uh..I can..make you a sandwich?” He asks nervously, feeling hot under your gaze, looking away.

You hum, “Nah. How about..you?” You say, shamelessly drooling and a million different, ahem, positions running through your head.

At your words his grip on you tightens, his nails digging into your skin, but not that it hurts too bad. “H-hah?! M-me?! A s-s-snack?!” The poor freckled boy managed to say, not sure if he heard that right.

Him? A snack? Impossible.

You nod quickly, then blurt out shamelessly. “I want your babies. Cute green haired babies. Pleaseeee?” You ask, somehow removing his hands on you and jumping into his chest. “Please fuck me.” You continue to say, and he just about dies.

It’s too much. The seductive look you’re giving him, and he faints, blood gushing from his nose, face beet red.

You look down at him, and lick your lips. He just made your job easier. “Hehe.” You giggle, “I’m gonna fuck him today!”

—————

The second he feels someone’s hands on him, undoing the knot of his gym shorts he immediately slaps their hands away, and finds himself staring at you.

You huff, “Oh come on!” You whine. You look oh so disappointed, your snack was ready! How could he take it away?!

He rapidly blinks, face red as he fumbles to retie the knot. If he hadn’t woken up in a minute, he would have found his dick getting devoured.

He doesn’t know what to say. And how has no one entered the kitchen?! “L-L/N!” He whines, “D-don’t d-do that!”

You pout, “But whyy? I wanted a snack! Why you gotta take it away..” you grumble. He swallows, finding his thoughts drifting to very, very impure thoughts. He shakes his head, mentally slapping himself.

“N-no.” He managed to say, and wanting to cringe at how unserious it sounds. While the thought of doing anything with you does excite him, you’re not in the right mind. But darn the face you’re giving him is making him almost crumble.

“We can’t.” You frown, crawling onto him, and he turns redder as you straddle him. “But I wanna fuck! Please?” You beg, your bottom lip quivering.

Izuku is praying someone walks in so he doesn’t give in to you. And someone does. But oh gosh. Anyone but him. Mineta is drooling. “Fucking? Count me in!”

You frown. “Oh fuck no. Your ass? Hell no.” You hug Izuku, pushing his face into your boobs, still straddling him. “You’re not fucking him, I’m fucking him!”

Mineta sputters, looking ever so jealous at how snug Izuku’s face is, nestled in your cleavage. “Him? I want to do the dirty with you! Is this about that one time I said that one thing? I didn’t mean it!”

You glare at him, hugging Izuku tighter as he turns redder and redder. “He’s mine! Fuck off.” Mineta grumbles, and reluctantly leaves. You pull away from Izuku, his face oh so red, and look at him, so much heat in your gaze. And you whisper,

“Now where were we?”

[anna-scribbles]

last one i promise(<—lie)

[levemetal]

Someone had to do it.

I hate myself. 150 notes and I’ll make a Mujiu version.

[yooo-lets-go]

Sometimes it’s hard, it's hard to tell

[boobilby]

This is a joke about how when I first saw evbo fan art I thought he was Martyn

[eggyeggyves]

I’m just drawing this because I was prescribed testosterone today and will be starting it soon. 🥹

[bread-that-draws]

Flowey’s so funny and has me so fucked up like he’s a talking flower. He tries to kill you upon your first interaction. He is ten years old. He is damaged beyond repair. He’s a flower named Flowey. He’s become friends with every single character. He’s killed all of them countless times. He knows everything about everyone. He doesn’t care anymore. He takes care of his mom when she can’t take care of herself. He’s killed her before. He doesn’t care if you kill her. He thinks she’s trying to replace him. He just wants to be himself again. He wants to destroy everything. He hates you. You’re the only one who understands him. He wants his best friend back. He’s terrified of them. He believes in kill or be killed because he died by giving mercy to the wrong person. He believes himself to be the wrong person. He doesn’t understand when you show him that kindness he showed others, even when you know he could kill you for it. He’s tried every route. He asks you if you have anything better to do when you try to do the same. He’s a direct reflection of the player. He’s a fucking talking flower named flowey and his only voice line is by Ronald McDonald and his officially licensed plush does a little dance for you

[strawbubbysugar]

The base Y/N design for my soulmate AU!!

[blossoms-phan]

many people are afraid to be real lovers. dan and phil are not

[deviouz]

jason todd is a thick thigh and chubby tummy lover. i will not be accepting any criticism

[nicksstrongrugbyarms]

(Apparently) unpopular opinion: heartstopper is not cringe 💁🏼‍♂️ it’s just not.

Like can queer people just be happy and in love without everyone calling it cringe? God. Just sit down and let us have this.

[omoriisstruggling]

levi sketches for all the love on the last post :D

references below!

[luna-the-cretar]

“It sounds like someone stirring a pot of Mac and cheese”

Derek: *makes that exact sound*

Me, a headphone user:

[lylahammar]

I think a vastly underrated form of anti-capitalism/fascism/discrimination is radical self acceptance. Like just accept being “ugly.” Fuck beauty standards fuck beauty products fuck trends fuck diet culture fuck fitting in fuck “beauty is pain” mindset fuck “healthy things have to taste bad” fuck skin care fuck plastic surgery fuck filters fuck trying to appeal to beauty standards that profit off of your insecurities just exist outside of what the system demands of you. Leave your acne gain weight wear the same clothes forever learn to view what society deems as your “flaws” as an anarchist symbol of power and freedom

[deswhomst]

See You Again (Will I?) — @black-brothers-microfic — WC: 1366 | Warnings: implied (sacrificial) suicide

Hogwarts circa June, 1978.

“Regulus,” Sirius said, the name foreign on his tongue, the sound wrong in his ears.

The younger boy gave a short nod. “Sirius.”

Oh—his own name sounded wrong, too.

It was a well-established fact that Sirius hated the Blacks and that included the hollow shell of a brother he once knew—who was now staring back at him with a razor-sharp gaze.

Regulus used to be such a soft kid—annoying and snobbish, yes, but polite and sweet, too. It was like Sirius had blinked one day and Regulus had shattered into a mosaic of broken glass, all jagged edges that threatened to leave the deepest cuts. A part of Sirius knew that he had missed out on his brother’s life by his own choice but he couldn’t help the wound that opened up in his heart at thought.

Sirius decided to speak up. “I’m leaving.”

Regulus raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

“I mean—” Sirius grimaced at the wording. “Hogwarts. Seventh Year done and whatnot.”

“A bit surprised, if I’m being honest,” Regulus said. “I always imagined that you would get expelled.”

Why did he speak like that? Absolutely zero emotion on his face. He had changed so much in the last two years—him arguing with Sirius and being a little bitch was much better than … whatever this was.

“Yeah, well,” Sirius shrugged, passing him a toothy grin. “Came close once. Or ten times.”

“I’m sure.”

Usually, Sirius would be mean to Regulus. He would look at him and turn away in pure contempt. Today, however, with all the goodbyes and a war looming ahead, Sirius found himself overcome with a fondness for his brother that hasn’t been there in … six years? Longer?

Sirius has heard the rumors about Regulus already becoming a Death Eater. He knew that even if it wasn’t true, yet, that was still the path Regulus was heading down. That has always been his big goal in life. The thought of it brought back some bitterness but the more prominent cloud in Sirius’ mind was a heavy reminder that he would be on opposite sides of a war with his own brother.

He had no confirmation that Regulus had actually taken the Dark Mark and as long as he didn’t, Sirius reasoned, he had one last chance to say the goodbye they had put off for two years.

Sirius didn’t think much about it. Words were failing him, anyways, and so he moved forward, bringing his arm around Regulus in a hug that neither of them were prepared for.

Regulus went rigid instantly, his entire body locking up as if he had been petrified. The hesitation, the instinctive recoil, it all vibrated through Sirius’ own body, but then—slowly, stiffly—Regulus started to return the embrace. In all honesty, it was not much at all. There was no warmth—in fact, even under the glare of the summer sun, Regulus felt colder than ice. But it was there, he was there, and Sirius decided that this would have to count. It would have to mean something, and it does.

Sirius exhaled through his nose, gripping the fabric of Regulus’ robes for just a second longer before pulling back. His hands lingered on his brother’s arms, giving them a brief squeeze before letting go entirely.

“This is the last time,” Sirius said, voice not as steady as he had intended.

Regulus blinked, something flickering across his face but it was gone before Sirius could place it. “Hmm?”

“This is the last time,” Sirius pressed more firmly, “we will ever see each other.”

Regulus did not argue. He only nodded, paused for one second, then promptly turned on his heel and walked away.

This time, Sirius watched Regulus leave.

Knockturn Alley circa August, 1979.

Regulus stepped out of Burkin and Burkes, the replica of Slytherin’s locket safely tucked into his pocket. Time was moving slowly for him tonight, which probably made sense since he was quite literally on his way to trade his life for the real locket.

For someone who was about to die at eighteen, Regulus didn’t have much that he wanted to do. He wished that things had been different but, honestly, even without the war, Regulus Black would not mean anything to anyone. That was his reality, it was his burden, and he will rot the water with it soon.

Perhaps the universe wasn’t done punishing Regulus, though, because as he turned down an alley, he came face to face with his brother. The estranged, disowned brother he hadn’t seen in a year. The brother who was actively fighting against him.

Where the light bled into the dark, where the flickering streetlamps didn’t reach, that’s where Regulus saw Sirius again.

One last time.

“I don’t want to fight,” Regulus found himself saying, immediately, voice small. He was exhausted—bone-deep and soul-deep. There was nothing left in him to give anymore. “Please, Sirius.”

Sirius was accessing him carefully, jaw clenched tightly, but Regulus caught the hint of concern in his unforgiving gaze. He must look like a special brand of shit for Sirius to put aside his hatred.

“You look like hell,” Sirius muttered, confirming that theory.

Regulus huffed. “Don’t we all?”

Sirius didn’t smile. Regulus hadn’t expected him to. With that, a silence settled over them, and calling it uncomfortable would not do it justice.

None of it mattered, anyways.

Regulus was already dying.

He was dying, and Sirius hated him.

He was dying, and no one loved him.

“I know we’re on opposite sides,” he admitted, keeping his gaze fixed on the cold stone wall behind Sirius’ shoulder. “And I know what that means.”

“Do you?” Sirius’ voice was sharp, edged with something dangerous. Something awful, something hateful. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be here.”

Regulus shook his head, a bit desperate. “I do,” he hesitated, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “I don’t expect you to understand, but this—this is something that I have to do.”

Sirius’ expression twisted, frustration flickering across his face. “You’ve never had to—”

“Listen,” Regulus cut in, digging crescents into his palm. “I meant what I said about not wanting to fight. Please, Sirius, don’t be mean to me today.”

It was unfair. It was pathetic, too, but again—Regulus was dying so nothing mattered. What was Sirius going to do? Leave him again? Kill him more?

None of it mattered.

Regulus didn’t matter. He never had, never will.

“Reggie—”

And maybe it was simply the fear of dying alone or maybe it was the use of the nickname the Regulus hadn’t heard in years that made him pull Sirius into a hug in that moment.

Regulus had never initiated an embrace with anyone before—and he never will after this. This had been his last chance to do so and he has done it. Now, at least, Regulus can claim that in the eighteen years he got, he had given one hug.

It was warm despite his own inherent coldness. Unlike Regulus, Sirius didn’t hesitate before retuning it, arms circling around his shoulders. It was then that Regulus realized that he had grown taller than Sirius. The older Black seemed to have come to the same conclusion, his response being a tight squeeze.

In another life, Regulus would have teased him about this. In another life, Sirius would have been annoyed by this.

Regulus didn’t let go of his brother for what felt like an eternity. He wished that Sirius would ask him to stay, but how could Sirius know where he was headed? Would it change anything, Regulus wondered? If Sirius knew that Regulus was going to give up his life to bring down the Dark Lord, would he stop him?

Will he mourn him?

Will anyone?

“Alright. Alright,” Sirius sighed. He was the first to pull away and it had to be him because Regulus wasn’t brave enough to face reality again. “Stupid question but … are you okay?”

Regulus supposed that’s something he hasn’t done yet. Be okay. He pulled back further, shrugging.

“You were wrong, Sirius,” Regulus muttered. “This is the last time we will ever see each other.”

Sirius had left once, so Regulus had to be the one who left at least twice.

And for good this time.

Edit: Moodboard I made inspired by this

[fujii-draws]

Gates to infinity more like gates to crying like a little WEENIE