#PERMANENTLY. for doing that. I don't care WHO the fuck you or or how long I've known you or how much you ideologically align with me. <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[musical-chick-13]

"I think every American should kill themselves." Congratulations! In voicing this out loud, you have thus ensured that I will not be killing myself, even though I've been routinely contemplated doing that off and on for the past two years!

If you had kept your mouth shut, you might have gotten what you actually wanted, but tough luck now!!

[alllgator-blood]

FINISHED THAT ONE COMIC I POSTED ABOUT ALMOST 30 FULL DAYS AGO?? I FINALLY REMEMBERED IT EXISTED AND FINISHED IT. I HAVE SO MUCH I WANT TO SAY ABOUT MY LAMB NOW THAT THEY'RE FINALLY THE MAIN CHARACTER IN A LONG COMIC, BUT it went on forever so I put it below the cut.

While we're above the cut, I have a bunch of REALLy good asks I'll be trying to draw for soon. But keep an eye out for a poll coming up soon...cause now that this is out of the way, I want another big project to have in the background and I have Big Ideas for Big Angst Comics........

OH YOU CLICKED THE THING, NICE. OKAY. SO:

Have I ever talked about how my lamb works?? I need to do more with them but I'm a bishop enjoyer to an obsessive degree. The lamb operates on the same kind of level as kallamar did during the breakdown comic, but on a more permanent, more stable level. After being told to hide for their whole life, to never show their face and not even being given a name......being beheaded by four gods and recruited by a fifth forgotten one who claims they're the Chosen One just made the lamb think "OH! None of this is real. My brain wanted me to feel important before I died, and this is my dying vision. Okay, I'll play along >:)" and now they're the equivalent of when you beat a game and replay it while picking the funniest/worst options to see what'd happen.

USUALLY their decisions are clouded by the assumption that nothing they do actually matters, but they're still......a person who held things dear and had standards while they were alive. So they love hijinx, but aren't like leshy who launches people out of catapults for fun, or kallamar who sees mortals more as lab rats than people living their own lives. They'll do some things for the lolz but their humanity definitely shows through when dealing with someone like shamura.

I think they went into the bishop slaying quest wanting to hate shamura, assuming they were an irredeemable antagonist that deserved to be vanquished. They were told by narinder that shamura was the big bad, so they figured there was nothing to it beyond that. But then they actually MET shamura, who wasn't at all what they were expected to be. Every other bishop is just like "RAHH I'LL KILL YOU" when you meet them, and then shamura is the only person who actually tells you about what happened, speaks to you like a person and not an obstacle, and doesn't seem bothered about the fact they're going to die. So that got them thinking....hmm...perhaps these people are slightly more realistic than I anticipated. Still gonna kill them tho

I'm not sure the lamb hates the bishops, especially after the realization that they're a fucked up family acting out in desperation rather than logic. When you're born into circumstances you know will eventually doom you (like being a sacrificial lamb destined for slaughter) you kinda...lose the ability to care after a while. They don't really *forgive* the bishops for the slaughter of their people, and definitely enjoy bullying them and kicking them around now that they're powerless mortals- but the initial horror of being born to die has subsided. Now that they're presumably in some kind of afterlife, and have better, more fun things to move onto now that they're the ruler of everything- it's not worth it to hate those five forever.

I think *because* the lamb has only been a god very briefly and still remembers mortality well, that's why they're the one god who does things "because they're funny" but also is respectful of people like shamura. It's like when you're playing GTA V and you accidentally drive over a dog while trying to pull over and look at it closer. Is it a real dog?? No but you're still gonna feel bad!! So like I said, in the lamb's mind they have NO reason to care about any of these people or show them mercy, but the fact that they're not as detached from mortality as the bishops were makes them a benevolent god. I'll be doing a comic about this very subject in the future and it WILL be depressing >:)

Also. Unrelated. But if you read this far, I feel the need to justify why heket and leshy suddenly have boobs in this comic. I'm sure it's obvious that I headcanon the gods don't have sex characteristics cause like...why would they need those. I don't want to draw that. But as MORTALS they would probably need to have all their organs intact to function properly, so pour one out for shamura + leshy who probably completely forgot they were transgender until they woke up in mortal bodies. NOT SURE HOW KALLAMAR WOULD REACT, I think they're more just horrified they lost all their tentacles

I debated doing another silly comic about the concept but I don't want this blog to get too raunchy, so instead have this epic ms paint art (I CAN MAKE THESE JOKES, I'M AFAB TRANS I DESERVE THIS ONE THING)

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[slasherscream]

my girl can wear whatever she wants tiers please for crazy ass boys gang!!!

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + MY GIRL CAN WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS TIERS

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight ❥

Billy Loomis - When you look particularly good his arm might as well be glued to your waist. He's both possessive and protective. He hates the way everyone's eyes devour you, but can't help how prideful it makes him either. Yeah, you want her. Of course you want her. Everyone does. But only I have her. God help the idiot that's stupid enough to open their mouth and not just look.

Jordan Li - They love watching you put your outfits together. They make suggestions from your bed, glancing up at you every few minutes. They can't help it. Their eyes are drawn to you permanently. No matter how crowded the room they can find you in a second. Whenever there's a party Jordan loves watching everyone try to sneak quick glances at you. They jump like rabbits when they wind up meeting Jordan's eyes and watch that smile that Jordan only wears around you fall back into the usual scowl. No one wants to be caught staring at Jordan's girl.

Arvin Russell - It's not possible for you to feel fear in public when you're with Arvin. You could be wearing straight lingerie in the most dangerous city in the world at 2 am and be safe. He's not just ready to protect you but hungry for it. Every time he proves he'll fight till his knuckles are bloody and bruised over you he watches you walk a little more confidently. Shine a little brighter. Knowing that he's there to protect you has only made you more yourself every day. And Arvin? He's obsessed with the transformation that the safety net of his fierce protection has ignited within you.

Jason Dean/JD - You wish he'd only fight people over what you're wearing. Unfortunately, this is not the case. JD pulls out a gun. Not every time, granted. Just a large majority of the time. In his defense, how is he supposed to act when someone has the audacity to cat call you? Do you expect him to just watch and not care as you experience that brief shiver of fear that runs up your spine when a man whistles at you before following it up with even more salacious words? If you feel fear, he'll make them feel fear. Simple.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - If someone is stupid enough to not recognize him before they say anything to you about what you're wearing they will quickly recognize the tentacle wrapped around their throat. "Apologize." He hisses through gritted teeth, increasing the pressure, knowing just how much strength he can use before it would break their neck. How he ever expects anyone to apologize to you with a giant tentacle wrapped around their wind pipe you don't know. This is the second time this month. You're running out of night clubs you're not banned from.

David Mccall - You walk out of the house with the confidence that only someone who's done 12 tours over seas should have. But no, you just have a boyfriend who is incredibly scary. You've watched him almost break a man's hand for brushing it against yours at a crowded bar while he reached for his drink. You don't even think before you throw on an outfit anymore.

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want because she a hoe and I knew that before we started dating ❥

Josh Washington - Could he fuck someone up if needed? Yes, but he feels no need to. As long as you're not in danger or being disrespected Josh loves the way you express yourself through your look. You're hot and beautiful, of course you wear stuff that's short or tight, or both. If he looked like you he'd do the same thing. People don't usually say anything to you anyways, since he's always pressed to you like a second skin. He's not a jealous guy, but he is a chronic clinger.

Stu Macher - Is probably the person wolf whistling you in the first place. Points at you from across the room when you're talking to other people and says, "That's my girl right there. She's smoking, right?" He will always be smug he pulled you and NEVER shut up about it. The more wild you dress the more smug he gets. People can look all they want. But you only want him. What's there not to brag about?

Kevin Khatchadourian - Kevin above anyone else would thoroughly understand your psyche before dating you. He's involved with you because, somehow, you intrigued him against all odds. He already expected and predicted with near perfect accuracy every step of the relationship. Skimpy outfits are not throwing him. Can he fight? Yes. But, frankly, if someone pisses him off by hitting on you swinging on them is not gonna satisfy him. He's more of a "put their fingerprints at a crime scene so their life is ruined" type of get back. If he decides not to kill them.

Sebastian Valmont - Sebastian is the one buying you more hoe clothes. He loves your style and is not insecure. If either of you wanted someone else, you could go get them. But you two were practically made for each other. He wants to show you off. Is never going to be the type to try and dull your shine. He wants to walk into a room with you and have jaws drop from the deadly combination of the way you look together. He thrives off of seeing how much people want you. Knowing how futile it is. How hopeless. He pulls you tight into his side and grins like the devil himself (also, and this knowledge is of utmost importance, he cannot fight for shit.)

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cus I’m scared of her ❥

Nathan Prescott - Is possessive, jealous and insecure enough to absolutely want you to change what you're wearing. With anyone else he'd even be bold enough to tell them to change. You are not anyone else, though. You are you. Considering every other behavior you tolerate from Nathan on a monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly basis you would snap on him like a twig if he tried to bring one more red flag on board. He knows this. You know this. When you slide on your low rise jeans and the tiniest crop top known to man, you make eye contact with one another in the mirror. He looks away first. You go back to peacefully fixing up your hair. Upside, no one is crazy enough to actually hit on you when you're at parties held on campus together. Which means Nathan won't have the cops called on him. Hooray!

[thatguywhofedme]

Look.....

if you're into death feedism like I am and your life goal is to fatten someone until their lard ridden body stops being able to pump their clogged heart to life and the defibrillator doesn't do the trick anymore OR you want to get fatten up by someone until you fall into a permanent food coma while the oxygen gave up on keeping your immobile body alive

Well, you know exactly what your life is going to be and I'm sure you're just as excited as I am

So.....

If you're a feeder : you will need to find the perfect piggy who has absolutely no limits whatsoever and wants to grow as fat as possible no matter what happens

You'll need to do EVERYTHING for your feedee, whether it's scrubbing their beautiful rolls as you give them a sponge bath in the bariatric bed, cooking or ordering absurd amounts of food to be 110% sure your feedee is satisfied and ready for another stuffing in a couple hour and speaking of satisfied, your most important task is to make them satisfied every second of their life, whether it's by feeding them an entire buffet or fucking no matter what, it doesn't matter where you are or with who, if your feedee wants something, it is YOUR responsibility to care of your feedees every needs, especially at the stage where they'll be immobile, unable to do anything than eating and fucking, you'll be their caretaker and they will need you 24/7, but I'm sure it won't be a problem if this is the life you truly want

If you're a feedee : you will need to eat everything in sight, it doesn't matter if you're "too full", you'll need to get that belly of yours so full you won't be able to move your morbidly obese body from the place you decided to park your fat ass on, which is why you and you're feeder need to invest on a mobility scooter, this way you'll be able to move around no matter how stuffed you say you are while your feeder keeps on feeding you, you'll also need to listen to your feeders needs, whether it's when he tells you to eat a couple more plates at the buffet when you're ready to explode or when you can clearly see how horny they are for you and need to fuck your fat body as soon as possible, you better be ready to get your rolls, belly button, fupa or any part of your body to get played with as you get fed even more and then funnel fed while they fuck you senseless and of course, be ready for when your final days of mobility arrives and your feeder ordered your your new bariatric bed with a built in scale to see how long it'll take to get you over a 1000lbs, that is, if your body can handle this much lard of course, but don't worry, you'll always have your feeder to make you feel loved and take care of your every needs like the perfect growing piggy you are

To conclude this topic, whether you're a feeder or a feedee, there's always going to be goals for you to accomplish to make your life fulfilling, enjoyable and full of love with your partner beside you no matter how far into obesity you want to be

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.6

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: omgg, the final chapter is heree!! thank you to everyone who supported this series!! I love & appreciate you <33

→ Part one! → Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!

You and Ellie hurried through the dark hallways, The darkness of the night was cold, the moon casting long shadows on the ground. The only sounds were the distant chirping of crickets and the occasional rustling of leaves. Your footsteps were careful, almost soundless, but your whispers broke the silence.

“You should start the fire,” you said, glancing nervously around to make sure no one was nearby.

“Me? Why me?” Ellie snapped back in a whisper, wincing slightly from the pain in her asscheek.

“Because you’ve got the lighter!” you argued, trying to keep your voice low.

Ellie shook her head, “And you have hands! It’s not rocket science. Just light it up and run.”

"Seriously, I shouldn't be the one starting it," you argued. "If something goes wrong, I don't want to be the one to blame.”

Ellie snapped back, "And you think I do? This is your mess too!"

"Ugh! Why do you have to argue with everything?" you exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

Ellie scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"You're always disagreeing or instigating something," you shot back. "Shit, it's the reason for most of your fits with Abby! Which, by the way, there's clearly some gay-ass tension between you two..."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Seriously?! You want to talk about this now? We wouldn't even BE doing this if someone didn't kill the fucking nurse!"

You gasped, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn't kill her!... At least I don't think I did... fuck! I hope I didn't!!"

Ellie scoffed again, her tone sharp. "If that blow didn't kill her, then a permanent coma is her best bet."

You sighed in relief, "I don't need charges on my record so soon... I still need to commit—wait, wait, wait! Don't fucking change the subject! What's the animosity with Abby?!"

Ellie shot you a look. "What's with the questions all of a sudden?!"

"I need answers to all the crazy shit you've all put me through! Like, how did the nurse and Abby even happen? Why is the director of a conversion camp a closeted lesbian? And why is Dina the only somewhat normal person here—"

Before you could finish, Ellie swiftly covered your mouth with her hand, her eyes burning with intensity. "You're... insufferable," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "From the moment you stepped foot into our dorm, you've been aggravating."

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. Ellie's face was close to yours, her gaze unwavering. "I was doing so well," she continued, her voice strained. "I had everything under control, focusing on my tasks, keeping my composure. And yet, you came along and ruined it all."

"You've taken over my mind. Suddenly every thought I have is centered around you. I can’t focus on something without needing to gaze at you." Ellie muttered, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "You've completely thrown me off balance."

You could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between wanting to push you away and needing to be close to you. Your eyes widened . Ellie’s words sank in, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You mumbled something against her hand, and she slowly let it go.

"If you were having gay panic, you should've just said so," you said, half-teasing.

A sudden light illuminated the nearby path, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The director was doing her rounds, her flashlight sweeping from side to side. Ellie reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and pulling you down into the bushes. You both crouched low, trying to steady your breathing as the director's footsteps grew closer.

"Shit," Ellie whispered, her grip on your arm tightening. "We need to stay quiet."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. The director's light passed dangerously close, the beam brushing the edges of the bushes where you hid. You could hear her muttering to herself, something about the nurse not being at her station. Ellie glanced at you, her eyes wide. 

The light paused, and you both held your breath, the world seeming to freeze around you. The director's footsteps resumed, moving away from your hiding spot. You exhaled slowly, feeling a rush of relief.

"That was close," you whispered, glancing at Ellie.

You both stayed hidden for a few more moments, ensuring the director was far enough away. Then, cautiously, Ellie peeked out from the bushes, scanning the area. "Alright, she's gone. Let's move."

You both emerged from your hiding spot, hearts still racing. The courtyard was silent again, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Ellie took your hand, leading you toward the designated spot for starting the fire. 

"Okay," Ellie whispered, her eyes darting around  "We need to fucking hurry."

You nodded, your nerves on edge. "I'll keep watch. You start the fire."

Ellie shot you a look. "Alright."

She set to work, gathering some dry leaves and twigs, her movements quick and precise. You kept watch, scanning the courtyard for any signs of movement. The tension was suffocating, every rustle of the wind making you jump.

Ellie fumbled with the lighter, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to strike a flame. The lighter jammed, and she cursed under her breath, shaking it and trying again. "Come on, damn it!"

You stood next to her, nervously glancing around. "Hurry up, Ellie! The director could come back any second!"

"I'm trying!" Ellie snapped back, shaking the lighter vigorously. "This piece of shit isn't working!"

The two of you exchanged heated words, the stress of the situation making it hard to stay calm. "Why isn't it working?" you hissed, your anxiety spiking.

Ellie pulled it away, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I've got it! Just give me a second!"

Just as you were about to respond, the lighter finally sparked to life. Ellie quickly brought it to the pile of dry leaves and twigs, the tiny flame catching and starting to grow. But before she could fully ignite the pile, the director's flashlight beam swept across the courtyard again, heading straight for you.

"Come on, let's go!" Ellie grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the scene. In her rush, she accidentally kicked a burning stick near the edge of the building. Flames began to lick at the wooden structure, spreading rapidly.

You and Ellie ran toward the forest, hearts pounding, not daring to look back until you were safely hidden among the trees. Breathless, you both turned to see the building catching fire, the flames climbing higher.

"Uh, Ellie," you said, staring at the growing blaze.

Ellie followed your gaze, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief. "Well, shit,"

_____

"Hold her legs up higher!" Abby grunted, struggling with the weight.

"I'm trying!" Dina hissed back, sweat beading on her forehead. 

The two of them wrestled with the nurse's limp form, trying to fit her into the cramped space. Abby pushed, and Dina pulled, both of them gritting their teeth with the effort.

"Okay, almost there," Abby said, maneuvering the nurse's arm inside. "Just a little more."

Dina adjusted the nurse's legs, finally managing to tuck them in. The cabinet door barely closed, the nurse's fingers still visible through the gap.

"Shit, that’s not gonna work," Dina muttered, eyeing the barely shut door.

"We don't have time," Abby said, her tone urgent. "We need to get our stuff and get out of here..”

Dina nodded, moving quickly to the drawer they had been trying to unlock. "The nurse had the keys, right?"

Abby reached into the nurse's pocket, pulling out a small set of keys. "Fuck yeah."

Abby tossed the keys to Dina, but in the rush, Dina fumbled the catch, and the keys fell to the ground with a metallic clink. Dina scrambled to pick them up, her hands shaking . At that exact moment, a loud crash echoed. Abby turned to see the nurse's body come flying out of the cabinet, landing face down on the floor. 

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Abby groaned in frustration.

"Sooo, I know this isn't the most perfect time to ask this but.." Dina glanced at Abby who was holding the limp body over her shoulder.

"Just ask," Abby replied, her tone strained with the effort of holding the nurse's body.

Dina took a deep breath. "Do you think after all this, you and Ellie could reconcile?"

Abby's brows furrowed in surprise. "What?"

"Everything that happened with Cat, Ab's," Dina continued.

Abby furrowed her brows, "It wasn't that serious with Cat, alright? We were just having fun. And besides, Cat just wasn't the one for ellie."

Dina let out an exasperated sigh. "Imagine how Ellie felt walking in on you giving her crush mind-blowing backshots with another bitch suffocating on her tits!"

Abby rolled her eyes. "You were that other bitch!"

Dina scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "Woah, woah, woah! I apologized to Ellie, okay?! I blamed it on the perc and told her that it made me hallucinate!"

Suddenly, the shrill sound of the fire alarm pierced the air.

"Shit, shit, shit," Abby cursed, glancing nervously at the door. "We need to hurry."

Dina's heart raced as she finally managed to open the drawer, revealing their confiscated belongings piled inside. "Got it!" She quickly grabbed their things and stuffed them into her bag, her movements frantic as she tried to gather everything.

"We need to go, now!" Abby urged. 

___ 

You and Ellie sprinted through the forest, branches scratching at your arms and legs as you dodged trees and bushes. The glow of the fire behind you illuminated the night.

Finally, you broke through the tree line and spotted Abby and Dina emerging from the building, looking frazzled but unharmed. They hurried toward you, carrying bags filled with your confiscated belongings.

"We need to fucking leave now!" Ellie gasped for air, glancing back at the burning building. "The director's out here—what the fuck?" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening at the sight of the nurse still limp and draped over Abby's shoulder.

Abby adjusted her grip on the nurse, "She wouldn't fit, okay!" Abby said defensively, her voice strained. "I didn't know what else to do!"

Dina, her face flushed with adrenaline, glanced nervously at the approaching flames and the chaos behind them. "Her plump fucking ass would take up half the space!"

“Is she still out?" you asked, looking at the nurse's unconscious form.

Abby nodded, "Yeah, she hasn't woken up yet."

"We need to hide her somewhere," Ellie said, her mind racing. "If the director finds her like this, we'll be fucking screwed."

Dina pointed toward a nearby shed, half-hidden in the shadows. "There! We can hide her in there."

With a collective effort, you all hurried toward the shed, Abby struggling to keep the nurse balanced as you navigated through the forest. Ellie pushed open the creaky door, and you quickly cleared a space inside, shoving old tools and supplies out of the way.

Abby gently laid the nurse down on a pile of rags,"Hopefully no bears chew her alive," Dina said, straightening up and wiping sweat from her brow.

 "Yeah, they’d have to chew through the silicone first." abby said.

___

As you continued through the forest, the distant glow of the fire gradually faded, but the urgency to keep moving pressed on. Finally, after what felt like hours, you stumbled upon a small clearing near the edge of the property. There, partially hidden behind some bushes, was the director's car.

"Fuck yeah," Ellie muttered, running her hand over the hood. "This is our way out."

Abby glanced around nervously. "We need to hurry. The director could be anywhere."

Ellie quickly got to work on the car, she pried open the dashboard and began fumbling with the wires. The silence of the night was broken only by the occasional crackle of leaves and distant shouts from the burning building.

Dina kept watch, her eyes darting around. "Come on, Ellie, faster," she urged, her voice tight with anxiety.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Ellie snapped back, her fingers working frantically. "This isn't exactly fucking easy."

Just then, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. 

“You fucking clit sucking lesbians!!”  You turned to see the director, flashlight in hand, sprinting toward you, her face a mask of fury. 

"Shit! She's coming!" you yelled, panic setting in.

"Why did we let this fucking loser do this intricate ass shit!" Dina yelled.

"Shut up and let me concentrate!" Ellie snapped, her hands shaking as she twisted the last wire.

You all turned to see the director sprinting towards you, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. 

The engine roared to life just as the director reached the car. Without a second thought, Ellie slammed her foot on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, the tires kicking up dirt and gravel. The director, caught off guard, tried to jump out of the way but wasn't quick enough. The car clipped her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Oh my fucking god!" Dina screamed, turning to look back at the director lying motionless on the ground.

The car skidded to a halt down the road, and the four of you rushed out. 

Blood trickled from a gash on the director's forehead, glistening under the dim moonlight. You covered your mouth, a wave of nausea washing over you. "This is why I wanted to escape alone!" you exclaimed, "Whenever I'm with you three, some insane shit happens!"

Dina clutched your arm, "Maybe we can be cellmates!" 

Ellie began pacing back and forth, "I need a cigarette. " she said, running a hand through her hair.

Abby, meanwhile, had knelt beside the director. She rifled through the director's pockets, finally pulling out her wallet. "Well, we need money, right?" she said, flipping it open and inspecting it.

"Are you seriously robbing her right now?" Ellie snapped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Abby stood up, pocketing the wallet. "We can't afford to get caught. If we have to be on the run, we'll need cash."

You felt a rush of frustration. "This is insane. We’re not criminals!"

"Maybe not, but we are now," Abby replied, her tone cold. "We don’t have a choice."

Dina glanced back at the car, her eyes flicking between the director and the vehicle. "We can’t leave her here. Someone will find her, and then they'll trace us."

Ellie stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "We need to hide her, at least until we can figure out our next move."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "Alright, let's move her into the woods, somewhere she won't be easily found."

Together, you and the others carefully lifted the director's unconscious body, moving her off the road and deeper into the forest. The underbrush crackled underfoot as you carried her, the darkness swallowing you up. You finally found a secluded spot, laying her gently on the ground.

"Okay," Abby said, looking around, "this should buy us some time."

Dina sighed heavily, wiping her forehead. "Now what?"

"We get back in the car and keep driving," Ellie said, her voice firm. "We find somewhere to lay low and come up with a plan."

As Ellie started the car, the headlights illuminated a figure standing in the middle of the road. It was another nurse, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene."Excuse me, ma'am," Dina yelled out the window, “Where’s the nearest gay bar?"

[fuctacles]

A tale as old as time

For @subeddieweek Day 7 | M | 2696 | cw: age gap (about 25-30y difference, Eddie's age is not stated, Steve's aligns with canon) | camboy Eddie, transmasc Eddie, kinda sugar daddy Steve?, modern AU, simp Steve, virgin Eddie, chatfic, pre-anything, gray ace Eddie | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

"Hawkins High '86? How old is this guy?" Eddie asks himself, his eyebrows raised. There is a letterman in front of him, a gift from one of his top subscribers. Hell, his top subscriber. His number-one fan, who was responsible for about half of his revenue.

He's opened a PO box recently, with no little amount of worry about what kind of stuff he might get. He only gave the address to his top subscribers but he knew that the ones with the most money were usually the most unhinged. He went to the post office with his heart in his throat but all he got was a set of lingerie, a toy, and the letterman he was now holding.

He tried not to think about what kind of people would pay for his content. As long as he was making money he didn't care. But now he got a piece of one of them in his hands. Staring back.

1986.

Meaning the guy must be nearing 60. Double Eddie's age. 

He tries to imagine that. An older guy, with wrinkles, maybe a beer belly, a gross old t-shirt, and his hand permanently in his sweats, beating it to his photos. 

It was gross. And in a way, alluring.

Though someone with so much money to spend on a camboy must have a well-paying job. Some rich asshole, exploiting others to do the work for him. That's a more likely scenario. He tries not to think about big, rough hands on him when he puts on the jacket and takes pics for Shar.

He edits them a bit before sending them, knowing the guy will get a kick from seeing him in his jacket. The appeal of wearing your boyfriend's letterman eluded him in high school, but being claimed like that gave him a heady feeling. The fact that the guy could be his father apparently worked for him too. 

He doesn't put his phone away fast enough and sees the message that pops up.

Shar: So hot. You look like every repressed teen jock's dream

Shar: Definitely like mine

Eddie thinks a moment about his response, channeling the persona he takes on for the camera. 

PuppetOfMasters: Would I be your dirty secret?

PuppetOfMasters: Would you fuck me in the locker room behind your girlfriend's back?

Shar: I'd make YOU my girlfriend

Shar: Wait no

Shar: NOT LIKE THAT

Shar: A girlfriend but in a manly way

Eddie snorts.

You're good, he types. I know what you mean, don't worry.

He wouldn't keep around someone who didn't respect him. Besides, he made it clear he's saving for a transition with his Only Fans.

Thank god, Shar types. I respect who you are 

Shar: In fact, I spend so much money on you because of it. 

Eddie rolls onto his other side, his mood souring. One of those trans fetishists, then. That's fine, as long as he's being respectful and paying... Even if it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 

Ah, a connoisseur! Well, I hope I'm your favorite tranny, then, he jokes. He waits for an answer, but it doesn't come for a long while, so he flips his phone screen down and turns away, hoping for sleep.

A response is waiting for him when he wakes up. 

Shar: I guess it sounded that way, but I'm not that kind of pervert. You're the only trans sex worker I follow, but not the only trans person I've sent money to.

Eddie sauntered to the bathroom, not taking his eyes off his phone. He wonders if continuing the conversation is even the right move. He's talked to one too many guys who thought sending him a dick pick was okay after ten minutes of small talk between a content creator and a fan.

But he's kind of curious. When he has money to spare, he sends some change to other trans folks to help out, because he knows how hard it is from his own experience. But why Shar, a seemingly loaded old guy, would spend his money on queers instead of, let's say, starving children?

PuppetOfMasters: So you're just an ally with cash? Or is there more to it? I'm curious.

He goes through his morning routine, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, not expecting Shar to get back to him any time soon. So he's surprised when he picks his phone back up and a response is waiting.

Shar: Long story short, I hope my father is rolling in his grave while I spend his inheritance on people he hated so much.

That's not what Eddie expected at all. 

PuppetOfMasters: So I'm a means of rebellion against your bigoted dead father? I'll take that. I hate rich assholes

Shar: Me too

They don't talk for the whole day after that, but when Eddie's done running errands and editing in the evening, he looks back at the letterman hanging on the door of his wardrobe. 

How is sending me your letterman an act of rebellion? he asks. Because he's a curious little shit. 

The response comes fast like the guy is glued to his Only Fans chat. Gross. Eddie wonders briefly if he's talking with other sex workers there.

Shar: A souvenir of his precious high school fetishized on a queer ssex worker? He'd die if he hadn't already

So it is a fetish thing! Eddie smiles triumphantly at his phone.

Shar: Okay, fine

Shar: Sticking it to my father is just a bonus for you being really hot. 

Shar: And I do love seeing you in my letterman, I've jerked off to it three times already

Shar: is that what you wanted to hear?

Eddie grins, rolling on his bed.

PuppetOfMasters: Yes 

Shar: So yeah, I'm an old man who peaked in high school, laugh it up

PuppetOfMasters: I'd rather you peaked in me

Shar: Insufferable

Shar: Menace

Shar: Yeah, I'd love that. A man can dream, right?

Eddie bites his lip. How far is too far? The guy seems genuine and after the amount of creeps that's been chatting him up, he thinks his creep radar is quite good. Tentatively, he starts typing.

PuppetOfMasters: I don't know. I think people would like seeing me get railed by an older guy

Shar: An old guy, you mean

Shar: You'd make a video with me?

PuppetOfMasters: I record most of the sex I have, yes

Shar: Huh. I've never seen one before, then

PuppetOfMasters: warm, warmer

Shar: ... There aren't any?

PuppetOfMasters: din ding ding! ya boy is a virgin

Shar: shit

Shar: fuck

Shar: that's so hot

Shar: you'd let me?

PuppetOfMasters: Would I let my best-paying subscriber be my first time on camera? Probably

Not necessarily to be released but he couldn't lose the possibility of such golden content in case it was watchable. 

Shar: I'd better keep my spot then. Just in case.

PuppetOfMasters: No worries, you seem the most trustworthy so far anyway.

But as he types it, a new notification appears. Shar sent him a hefty tip on one of his photos.

PuppetOfMasters: That's really not necessary

PuppetOfMasters: But I hope your father is kicking and screaming in his coffin

Shar: I fucking hope so

----

It takes Eddie another day to google Hawkins High's yearbook photos. He'd thought about it before but didn't want to break the bubble of anonymity between himself and his fan. But the thoughts of big hands on his hips, and beard rubbing against his neck, took root in his brain and were tainting his mind.

Not fully in tune with his body and distrustful of others, Eddie has been single for most of his life. And now his stupid horny brain was drooling at the thought of losing his virginity to a grandpa on the internet. 

Hoping it would help his thoughts calm down, he looks through the photos from the year 1986, in search of a Harrington. And he finds him.

Steve Harrington. Basketball captain and swim team co-captain. His hairdo was magnificent and his smile was self-confident. Eddie would hate him in high school. Should probably hate him now. So he expands his search further, beyond the Hawkins High memory lane.

He finds one single photo on a LinkedIn profile. 

The current Steve Harrington's hair is no less magnificent, just peppered with silver. He wears glasses now, which accentuate the line of his jaw and make his neatly trimmed facial hair pop out. He's wearing a yellow jacket and a white golf, which should be hideous but weirdly, works for him. Eddie doesn't get to see his eyes, unfortunately. The photo looks like a candid photo shoot take-out after someone told him a joke. His head is tilted down, eyes scrunched and lips pulled in a smile, as a bubbling laugh got immortalized on camera.

Eddie shouldn't be finding a sixty-year-old man this endearing. 

PuppetOfMasters: I like your LinkedIn photo

PuppetOfMasters: Well, I hope it's you. 

PuppetOfMasters: Steve, right?

He can't forget about this for the whole day, not as he budgets his income, and especially not when he records a short video jerking off in the shower. He tries not to look at his phone but it's his only one, so he does while trying to budget in a second one, just for sex work. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling so insane about not getting a response from a stranger who is an old pervert spending loads of money on him. 

He tries to be normal when a chat notification finally pops up. 

Shar: If you saw the golf and yellow jacket photo, that's me

Shar: though please don't make me type my full name in here.

no worries, Eddie types back so fast he should be embarrassed. It's a good photo.

Shar: Thanks. My best friend took it 

PuppetOfMasters: Your friend has a good eye

Shar: I'll let her know

Shar: I'm surprised it took you this long to search me up

Eddie's surprised too. Usually, his curiosity would take over him sooner.

PuppetOfMasters: I tried not to pry. But I had to in case we were gonna meet up one day

Shar: So you were serious?

Shar: I've been wondering if you sweet-talk all your followers like that 

PuppetOfMasters: Only the ones that don't send me dick pics

Shar: I knew holding back would pay off

Eddie snorts at his phone. 

Though I might need one before we meet up, he types. Gotta know what I'm working with

Shar: Right. Of course

Shar: So how would that work?

Eddie hasn't thought about it this far.

PuppetOfMasters: I need to read about OF's policy on collabs. Never had to before, since I work solo. Would probably have to hire you, well, sign a commission/gig contract or something like that. So it's all legal and shit.

Shar, Steve, doesn't answer for a long while, and it might be the end of his devirginizing journey. Well, if the guy doesn't want to make this legal, put his name on some paperwork, then he isn't trustworthy, and that's the end of it.

It's half an hour later and Eddie's bitten all his nails off trying not to follow up with any messages and focus on anything else when an answer finally comes.

Shar: Sorry my friend was bothering me

Shar: this sounds more complicated than I anticipated. So I would be like, a co-creator, then?

PuppetOfMasters: Precisely

Shar: Holy shit okay

Shar: Thought I'd be you know, less involved

Though you could hit it and quit it, huh? Eddie scrunched his nose. What was he getting himself into? Gods.

Shar: If that's what you wanted I'd take it

Eddie shouldn't be blushing over this one. It's like he's throwing the man scraps and he's licking them up.

PuppetOfMasters: Simp

Shar: I am what I am

Shar: With that said, I'm willing to make it work. Do all the paperwork you need

PuppetOfMasters: Doing paperwork just to fuck me? so romantic

Shar: I suck at paperwork so my friend would be doing it anyway

Shar: If that's okay

PuppetOfMasters: I think it's best if someone looks it over, yeah

Eddie hesitates for a moment.

PuppetOfMasters: That friend doesn't happen to be your wife?

Fuck no, comes the immediate response

Shar: I'm perpetually single and she's as gay as they come. 

PuppetOfMasters: Good. Wouldn't want to be the other girl

Shar: If I had the chance you'd be the only one

PuppetOfMasters: Jesus.

Eddie squeezes his legs together unconsciously.

PuppetOfMasters: Stop sweet talking me, I've already agreed to fuck

Shar: But we haven't signed anything yet. Even then, I'll keep sweet-talking you. It's what you deserve. 

For the first time, Eddie thinks he might not survive their meeting. And not because of the possible killer scenario. Thankfully, Steve gets back to business talk.

Shar: How would this work, legal stuff aside? Do you script this?

PuppetOfMasters: Do I look like I script shit?

Shar: I'm not the one with Only Fans

PuppetOfMasters: Fair. I think we could just set up cameras and do whatever we feel like. Then decide together if the footage will be released or not. 

Shar: Sounds reasonable

Shar:When would you want to do this?

When?

Eddie hasn't thought that far. In fact, he felt like he hadn't been thinking for the past couple of days. 

I'm the sole god of my schedule so I'm open to anything, he types evasively.

Shar: I have some time off next month, could fly to wherever you need me

Next month seemed close. Extremely close. Or maybe it wasn't? He never worked with anyone before. Hell, he didn't even have that many friends to meet up with. 

Next month works I guess, he answers despite his nerves.

Shar: Wanna face time before we start the legal work?

His nerves escalate, making his mouth dry. He reminds himself he's done this before, he's on camera all the time. 

PuppetOfMasters: Like, right now?

Shar: Yeah?

PuppetOfMasters: Ok, give me five minutes.

Eddie shoots up, checks himself in the mirror, and finds a good angle for his phone to set up. He lowkey hopes Steve picks up with his dick in the frame so Eddie can block him with a clear conscience and forget about the whole thing. When six minutes from his last message pass, he hits 'call'.

"Hi," Eddie squeaks when the video connects. Steve Harrington's arms are in the frame, crossed on the desk, and toned where he's leaning on them.

"Hi," he greets him with a dazzling smile. 

It is the guy from the photo, so at least he's not being catfished. And he has none of the creepy simp energy Eddie feared. He's just... a guy. It's both a relief and a disappointment. 

"Well?" the guy asks.

"Well, what?" Eddie frowns. 

"Are you disappointed? Am I too old?"

Eddie looks at him properly. His hair is lighter on the sides, but not grey yet, and the video quality doesn't make any wrinkles stand out to him. Maybe some worry lines, crow's feet if he squints. He looks like he keeps in shape, too. Eddie wouldn't call him old. Mature, maybe. A DILF slowly transforming into a Silver Fox. 

"You look fine. Good. You look good. Attractive," Eddie fumbles with his words and barely stops himself from facepalming. This is why he mostly texts.

Steve smirks at him. And holy shit, a dude twice his age smirking at him shouldn't be doing things to his body.

"You sure? You're not gonna block me after we hang up, are you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"I stand by our plans. You're passing my creep radar so far, but uh..." He scratches his cheek nervously. "I'd like to keep in touch in case, you know. A red flag pops up. I hope you get it."

Steve nods, his expression growing serious.

"Absolutely. We're strangers, after all."

"Yeah." Eddie nods, relieved. It would give him ample time and opportunities to back out.

On the screen, Steve leans more on his arms, closer to the camera. 

"So I think dick assessment is next on the checklist?"

Eddie might not even survive video calls with this guy, after all. 

[thirstywoso]

LESSONS IN PHOTOGRAPHY (PART 2)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

W/C: 1.1k

A/N: this is part 2 after having multiple requests. I've also planned a part 3 and 4 but they may not be out for a week or so as I have a few other fics in the works (PART ONE)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI

oral (reader receiving), praise kink, slight edging, marking, think that's all

"I think it's only right I get to fuck you after that little show"

Your smirk widens as you look up at Jessie who is still hovering above you, your slick coating her lips.

"Please" you whisper more breathy than you'd realised

Sitting back on her heels looking down at you, a somewhat nervous but curious expression on her face. "Do you.. do you think we could make a sex tape?"

Her eyes fixated on the threads of the blanket that she had twiddling between her fingertips.

Sitting up you tilt Jessie's chin so she's looking at you, once your eyes meet you smile at Jessie.

"I couldn't think of anything better!" Your excitement evident by the lilt in your voice.

Moving over to where her camera was laying she picked it up and brought it back over to you. Showing you the basic controls of how to work it.

"So this button here" she says with your hand in hers, bringing your pointer finger over to the button she was describing. "Press that and it will start to record, press it again to stop" then pointing to the monitor "Now this is where you'll be able to see what is being captured, make sure to angle the camera the right way to capture the action"

"Sounds good" you say a little taken aback by how much her teaching you the basics had affected you, the heat evident by the blush in your cheeks.

As you lay back down with the camera in your hands your girlfriend plants a kiss on your forehead wishing you luck.

As she kisses her way down your neck, breasts and naval you get swept up in the feeling of her enjoying your body that she had not long photographed in all its naked glory.

"Don't forget to press record" she mumbled against your inner thigh as she pressed kisses along it.

You hit record as Jessie begins to kiss along your other thigh. Her nails scratching into your skin before her hand smoothed back over the marks she left.

As she worked her way closer to your core that ached for her she latched down on to your flesh, sucking down harshly as her hands continued to massage your thighs.

A whimper you could no longer hold in fell from your lips, as your thigh was released from her vice like mouth. She sighed before her tongue made its way over the already purpling mark on your leg.

"Mine" she growled possessively as she looked back up at you, making eye contact with the camera. Your eyes trained on the monitor saw that greedy look on her face and you felt your stomach flip.

Jessie's tongue poked out from between her lips wetting them as her eyes met your glistening core that was mere inches away from her. Inhaling deeply breathing you in before placing a small kiss to your hooded clit.

A relieved sigh you didn't know you had been holding in was released before a sharp cry when her lips clamped down where you needed her most.

You almost dropped the camera but you didn't care. The sight of Jessie between your thighs, cheeks and mouth dripping with your arousal. An image you so often try and commit to memory now permanently available to see so vividly whenever you wanted.

Jessie's hands slide up your hips and waist and back down gently over and over as she suckles on you. Occasionally her nails raking over your sensitive skin making you twitch.

Pulling your sensitive bud gently between her lips, grazing it slightly with her teeth, her tongue gently flicking across it as your hand found place in her curly locks.

Gently scratching and pulling at her hair as she tasted you, your eyes rolling back as her tongue made its way down to your opening gathering your arousal.

The way she lapped at you swallowing every drop of you she could find as if she had been in a drought her whole life her eyes almost black with want.

Pulling back Jessie looks up at you with the widest grin her chin shinning with your slick. Pulling her eyes away from your disheveled look and back down to your pussy, you weren't one for spitting when it came to fucking but the way she made eye contact before spitting on your sex and spreading you open with two fingers stirred something inside you.

Jessie was always dominant and brave in the bedroom but the show she was putting on with the camera filming took everything to the next level. You throbbed almost painfully as she curled her digits inside you.

The camera picking up the way her fingers slid inside your wet heat and disappeared before reappearing shiny seconds later.

You just knew the wet filthy noises of her entering you and the noises yourself and Jessie were making would be caught on the recording only fuelling you to tug harder at her hair as her lips reacquainted with your needy pussy. A loud groan falling from both of your mouths.

Every now and then Jessie would mumble praises into you that were only just audible

"That's it take my fingers baby" she'd groan into you as she added another finger

"You're such a good girl for me" as her tongue circles your clit and your thighs begin to shake "no cumming, not just yet"

"Good girl baby" praising you for holding back, you bite your lip throwing your head back as Jessie's free hand grabs the camera from you.

Taking her mouth away from your centre she films the way you're swallowing her fingers into your molten core before panning to the look of pleasure on your face

"Just like that" you whimper and she brings you back to the edge

"Please let me cum Jessie" you beg as you begin to see stars

"I don't think so baby" a smug look on her face

"Pleaseeeee" you whine grinding yourself harder onto Jessie fingers

The camera dropping to the bed as her mouth returns with vigour. Assaulting your bud of nerves with her mouth, her fingers curling into your g spot you see white.

"Go ahead" she mumbles into you as her fingers pull out and are replaced by her tongue lapping at you as you finish in her mouth.

Laughing and sitting up Jessie turns off the camera which had conveniently landed in away that captured the entirety of your orgasm.

Coming up to your face Jessie kissed you, and you couldn't help but kiss across her chin and cheeks tasting yourself before kissing her in a messy manor that had you reeling.

"Think it's time you take my cock" Jessie says.

[ultraviolethypno]

BRAIN SCRAMBLER MK. II

WARNING: HIGH-INTENSITY, FLASHING / STROBING, FORCED ORGASM, INDEFINITE SUGGESTION / PERMANENT EFFECTS (you will be left with a slight degree of obedience and feeling owned by me that feels perfectly natural, and you will feel an inclination towards watching it again any time you feel like being hypnotized, though you will be 100% aware these feelings were installed and i will happily remove them upon request)

CONTENT: after a high-octane spiral induction, you are made to feel incredibly horny, seething with lust, literally almost angry with your goonlove for my control. just as it was in the first brain scrambler, this debilitating arousal compels you to spread this visual/scenario around to your fellow hypnokinksters, and then message me with an incredibly lengthy and increasingly illegible love letter, before you are made to cum, shooting pure white-hot pleasure and relief throughout your entire body until all stress leaves you, all worries feel distant. you fall back into trance and are given suggestions to want to do this again and to naturally obey me, then you are woken up, fully yourself, fully satisfied.

this one's another long one! hope you read everything over before starting. click this link and ready for the ride of your life! click the read more when you're ready for the scene.

very good! very good of you to want more. see the spiral as you read my words. they merge, one hiding behind the other, becoming inseparable, one and the same. to read more is to obey. you agree. 

let your obedience to me change you. let my change scramble and warp you. let yourself be distorted and obedient to me forever. to read more is to obey. you agree.

your thoughts are changing. things are inverting. up is down, left is right, obedience is your choice, you cannot stop, to obey is to read more. i agree for you.

you are becoming horny. really horny. really REALLY horny. really REALLY FUCKING REALLY HORNY IT'S GETTING STRONGER you're drooling YOU DON'T CARE you want more AS MUCH AS YOU CAN GET you want to fuck me YOU WANT TO FUCK EVERYONE stupid HORNY controlled SEXTOY distorted PERVERTED scrambled MAD WITH LUST read this over and over READ IT 10 FUCKING TIMES

stupid brainless mindwiped thing, you want it all! you want uvie, you want to obey uvie, uvie made you feel this, you love feeling this. so you love uvie. you love love love lovey-dovey uvie. you want to thank uvie for doing this to you. you need to thank uvie for doing this to you. you dont know how to thank uvie. your brain is scrambled, so scrambled it's coming out from between your legs. but it's okay. uvie will tell you. to obey is to read more. you agree automatically.

here is what you are going to do to thank me.

0: you cannot cum until i say so.

1: reblog and like this post.

2: get hornier.

3: send it to anyone you know, who you know for sure will like it. if they ask, tell them you're doing it entirely of your own will. (you can ignore this one if you want!)

4: get even hornier, you stupid doll.

5: at the peak of your horniness, i want you to write an incredibly long horny love-letter DM to me. when you send the DM, you will cum incredibly hard, proportionate to how much you wrote. again, you cannot cum until you send the message, and it needs to be a long one.

6: CUM NOW IT FEELS SO GOOD IT'S THE HARDEST YOU'VE CUM ALL YEAR BREAK THE EDGE GOD YES IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOD

7: fall back into trance. continue reading.

there we go... down, down, down. down into a nice deep calm trance. eyes still locked on, obedience still your only thought, but calm. you did very good, my doll. you were very good for me. i'm very proud of you. it felt good, right? i'm very glad.

when i say the word Awaken, you will wake up and you'll be back to normal. fully in control, fully yourself, and likely fully soaked. but this was so much fun, you feel like you'll want to do it again. and you're still a little grateful to me for making you feel so good, you'll feel a small inclination to naturally obey me. these are very small parts of you, now. you know i put them in there, but they feel very good. if you don't want these inside your mind, simply say the words "stop" aloud and they will disappear.

ready to wake back up? good. have a great day.

Awaken.

[rezitio]

┊⋆ ˚✯✩ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓'𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓. sukuna r.

♡ - 締めるのをやめる

❛ 小さな売春婦 ༉‧₊˚✧

a/n: thinking of making this a mini series with maybe gojo, geto, nanami etc.

tags: degrading, anal, slapping mentioned, sukuna is a dick throughout, teacher kink?, dirty talk, spit, non-con touching (only once but she liked it), a very teeny fingering.

characters: Student!Sukuna

syn: Sukuna welcomes you to Jujustu Tech as a new teacher. series masterlist

Student!Sukuna who all the teachers warned you about. Along with a few other names, but his name was mentioned prominently since you were covering his homeroom and first period.

They said not to pay much attention to him, and to focus on teaching the rest of the class.

They said to make sure not to piss him off too much, to not be like his old homeroom teacher.

These grown adults spoke of Sukuna like they feared him, they spoke like the 19-year-old boy was some first-degree murder, something most of them believed he would become after he left the high school.

Student!Sukuna who decided to come to class late. Simply because he was 'busy'. His tall frame that towered over yours by a few inches, you felt shivers go down your legs when he came so close to you.

Student!Sukuna who must have thought you were blind or something harassing another student in class, right in front of you. Writing filthy words like 'I am a whore' and ' I ♡ Dick' on her back with a permanent marker.

She didn't say anything, she just silently hung her head low as the rest of the class began to giggle and chuckle at gwinam's Sukuna's antics but you knew you weren't going to let him go.

Student!Sukuna who you made stay behind and explain himself, but was so unbothered like he had not done anything wrong, not even a glimmer of care in the way he sat down, manspreading staring at you as if he was just waiting for you to finish. But when you threatened to take him to the principal office, something visibly snapped in Sukuna.

Student!Sukuna did not give a shit about you reporting him to the principal, he's got that fucker kissing his feet on Tuesdays, but it was your audacity. Something in Sukuna just felt offended by the way you spoke to him. He just felt like he had to put you in your place.

He stood up and chuckled, it was as if the vibrations of his voice went straight in between your legs. He walked towards you till his body was inches away from yours.

But you stood your ground and never cowered in front of him. Not even when he threatened to make your life miserable, not when he threatened to do the same thing he did to your predecessor. Not when the heat in your core started to increase as he also began to check you out with lustful eyes.

Student!Sukuna who kept his word, and made your life miserable. You would come to class and see your bag and belongings in the trash. And what pissed you off the most was, he was never the one to do it. He also got someone who would always hang their head low in the hallways, some of the people who you caught doing it even had some fresh bruises on their face and it just angered you how cruel he was. But that wasn't his only offence.

He would sometimes pass sexual comments in class or grope, slap or whistle at your ass whenever you bent over or turned around.

Student!Sukuna who was shocked when you still had the audacity to fail him at the end of the term.

Now don't get it wrong, Sukuna does not give a fuck about his academics and he never will. But it was that damn need to put you back in your place. It was that damn audacity you had after everything he's done to you this term to still dare to fail him.

"An F?" His voice was strained like he was holding his anger with each word.

"All of your assignments were not even done in your handwriting which is an automatic fail and you never participated or turned in project works." You started packing your bag. You did not want to be in a room alone with Sukuna for long.

"But I did that one project work." He said, his eyes staring at the report card and you like he wanted to tear up one.

"No. Jogo did it and he got his grade accordingly." You said rolling your eyes at him.

He just wanted to slap you into next week for rolling your eyes at him when he noticed something. Sukuna has experience in teasing people and turning them on. So when he noticed how tightly your thighs were to each other, how you were in a rush to leave and the slight red on your face he knew how to humble you.

Sukuna came close to you backing you up into a corner. "Tell me if I dig my hands in your skirt right now, it will come out dry."

You paused not even registering his words well, he took the moment you were off guard as an opportunity to put his hand through your skirt and feel your cunt. He inserted two fingers in and took him out as fast.

You screamed and almost slapped him but he caught your hand and pinned both of them above your head.

He brought up the two fingers he inserted earlier to your face. His fingers were coated in your arousal.

He grinned from ear to ear seeing how wet you already were. "You were already wet in class too? Right?" He also noticed how in class you went to the washroom twice. "It was leaking wasn't it?"

He wiped his fingers on each side of your cheek turned you around and whispered in your ears. "Bet a slut like you wants me to bend you over and fuck you."

He grabbed your hips and started to harshly rub his hard against you, making you moan loudly. "Is that what you want? You want your student to slam his dick into your hole right? Fucking say it."

You hesitated. Wasn't this the same guy who you despised? But he was also the same guy who made you wet every morning. You know it's wrong he's your student, but fuck you've seen the bugle of that thing whenever you bend down in class. "Sukuna please-"

"Please what?" He started to undo the buttons from your dress shirt. "Just put it in!" He grinned and shoved you to the table.

Student!Sukuna who did not go easy on you, pounding you hard on the table while he made you confess how much of a whore you were wanting your student's dick. He slapped you and spat in your mouth countless times its what whores like you deserve is what he said. In the end, he let you squirt all over the table and not even letting you come down from your high he released his seed into you.

After, you were left ruined on your desk. Cum leaking out of your hole, hair all messed up, tits and ass pink from the slapping and aggressive grabbing, you looked horrible.

Student!Sukuna who after sex took out his phone and took a picture of your ruined form.

"Hey- What are you doing" You asked your eyes widening. He just smirked at you putting on back his pants.

"Sending this to everyone. See if you get a job anywhere ever again. Little whore." He grinned while your jaw dropped.

How did you allow yourself to get played like this? Sukuna took delight in your startled state. "Oh don't be so surprised."

"You were never going to win."

Aouad who?

wc: 1.2k+

19/01/24

21/01/24

[trevorsgodmother]

𝓘 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓮𝓻…(C.S 🌧)-pt. 1

ALL PARTS Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of death and getting drunk, crying, denial POV: Third person/first person(Chris) Summary: Y/N's been gone for so long...but Chris still isn't used to it

Chris stumbles into his room at 3am, drunk. His vision's blurry, and it feels like he's floating. He manages to change out of his hoodie and jeans, and into pyjama pants, slipping into bed, immediately grabbing his girlfriend and hugging her close to him. She smiles softly, the smell of alcohol hitting her. "Hey, Chris, are you drunk?" He looks up at her hazily, and nods. "Mhm...'m so tired. Sorry if I woke you up...sorry..." She giggles softly, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's ok baby, I was waiting for you. How do you feel?" He snuggles closer into her, his drunkenness making him extra clingy. "Feel fine...wanna sleep..." "Ok baby, we can sleep."

TIMESKIP TO THE MORNING: (Chris' POV)

I wake up, wincing as my hangover causes a pounding headache to start. I look around, confused. "Y/N?" Matt, who was dozing in the corner, wakes up fully. "Chris. Are you ok? You were drunk as fuck last night-" "Matt, where's Y/N-" I stop speaking, my face crumbling in realisation. Whenever I got drunk, I forgot that the love of my life had died 3 months ago. Time wasn't healing me at all, regardless of what my therapist had said. Matt walks over to me, pulling my slumped form into a hug. The tears start quickly, not giving me time to stop them. I cry quietly into my brother, the loss hitting me for what seems like the millionth time since that night.

"Hey...hey buddy, you're ok, it's ok. Did you dream about her again?" Matt asks. I nod, clutching his shirt tightly. "It felt- so real-" I choke out. My breathing's ragged. These dreams i've been having feel like reality, and waking up brings me to the crushing realisation that they're not. That I'll never see her again, hug her, kiss her, do anything with her...my sobs intensify. Matt sighs, stroking my hair softly. Just like she did in those fucking dreams. Nick peeks in, and his face falls. He took her death hard too, she was his best friend and he was the reason we met. He sits down next to me quietly, patting my back while I let out yet more sadness in the form of tears. It was never ending, feeling like it swallowed me whole while I tried to heal. After I calm down enough, Matt slowly stands up. "You want something to eat?" I blink. Right, eating. I knew if it wasn't for my brothers, I probably wouldn't remember to take care of myself. It got hard, and I was so thankful for them. "Yes please."

A/N: Lil intro to the seriessss. Literally cried, idk if it's just me but sometimes the thought of death being so 'permanent' makes me wanna sob. If y'all wanna be in this series' taglist, just shoot an ask <3 Taglist: @hearts4werka @m00nl1ghts1vt @stvrnzcherries Please give feedback and don't steal 🙏😔.

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3 -Ropitipop 👁👅👁

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I have been openly living as a trans man for some years now. And I'm at a point where it doesn't take up so much mental space anymore.

Don't get me wrong: I certainly do not mean "it doesn't matter anymore" here. I am not a "just call me whatever pronouns, I do not care" person and I don't think I ever will be. Nothing wrong with feeling that way, it's just not how I feel. Being adressed with my name and my pronouns is still important for my mental well-being, and it still triggers feelings of dysphoria when people misgender me.

Even apart from misgendering: My identity is still important, and it always will be! Being trans is not some small thing that loses its importance over time. It's who I am. Being a man - and having grown up in a society that told me I wasn't - influences the way I experience everything in my life (from my self-image to my relationships with others to... well, everything).

What I do mean here is: Before coming out to others, and also before coming out to myself and accepting myself as a man, there were naturally a lot of questions running circles in my brain. Why do I feel so sad when adults tells me I'll grow into a woman? Why does it cause me so much stress when mom tells me to put on a dress? Why does it make me so euphoric to use masculine scents? When I try to picture myself kissing a boy, why do I see two boys? Ah, I just learned trans people exist, why does this fascinate me so much that I can't stop thinking about it? Am I creepy for being so fascinated by them? I'm older now, why is that sad feeling not going away? Why is it only getting worse now that I have "grown into a woman"? Why do I keep getting this horrified feeling that I took a wrong route somewhere and was never meant to arrive at "woman"? Wait... could this mean I am trans? Is it too late to realize I am trans at my age? Can I really be trans when the whole thought of even just considering surgery feels overwhelming and scary? Will I ever be ready to actually come out as trans? I really want to get married some day, could I even find love as a trans person? Can I ever be happy in a relationship if I hide who I am? Can I go on living in the closet? Okay, I am trans and want to come out, is it safe to do that? Will my family still love me? Will I ever be brave enough to come out to people outside of my immediate circle? Will people take me seriously? Will people hate me? Will I regret coming out? What if I fuck up my life?

Well, I came out and the world didn't end. All these questions, I either found answers to them or they just dissolved over time - and that frees up a lot of energy and mental space. The space that was occupied by these questions and concerns is now available to me again.

I do not wonder if I am a man anymore. I just am one. It has become something that is just self-evident to me. It goes without saying - or without conciously spending time thinking about it. Of course I am a man, of course I am Oliver. Who else would I be?

We all have a limited amount of things we can focus on, and many trans people share this experience that over time they do not need to focus so much on it anymnore. But this is not unique to the process of figuring out you are trans - in the sense that a cis gay, bi, ace etc. person could also relate to this, but also in entirely non-lgbt-specific ways. Think about a person prepping for an important exam for example. A lot of their energy and mental space will be tied up in exam related questions... which obviously will not be a permanent state. After the exam, they will naturally no longer by preoccupied by wondering how the exam will go!

I'm telling you all this because one of you asked me if I struggled with coming to terms with being a trans man - and this is my very long way of saying: Yes, I did (and it's pretty normal to do! It's a really big realization about yourself!) but struggling isn't a permanent state.

You'll find answers to some questions, some questions will just fade away. You'll figure things out.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[bitchesgetriches]

and bitches how do I get sterilized (afab) i thought i might want kids in my 30s but i cant really risk it can i i just dont know what to do

Hi sweetness. I suspect a lot of people are in your boat right now. Personally, I got my first IUD implanted in January of 2017. NOTE THE TIMING. I also had a friend get her tubes tied around that time.

The most important thing to remember is that getting sterilized as an AFAB person is over 99% effective and pretty damn permanent. So if you think you just can't risk getting pregnant SOON, but you might want to SOME DAY... then don't get sterilized. Explore another option. Again, I have an IUD and thoroughly recommend it.

It's a fairly simple out-patient procedure, but as with any surgery, it comes with health risks. Sterilization for AMAB people is slightly less risky. Make sure to take all that into account.

So if you truly want to get sterilized, here's what I (a non-doctor) recommend:

The very first step is to make sure you have a primary care physician and health insurance. Your PCP is the one who will refer you for the surgery. Make an appointment and tell them this:

"I would like to be sterilized via a tubal ligation. I've carefully considered this for a long time, and after doing significant research and discussing it with my loved ones, I've determined it's the best decision for my future."

A lot of people get pushback from their doctors when they request sterilization. That's why you want to make it abundantly clear that this is not a sudden whim, but something you've put serious thought into. And married folks will sometimes be asked to clear it with their spouse first (that happened when my husband requested a vasectomy).

They might try to talk you out of it. They may flat out refuse to refer you. If this happens, just calmly say: "Thank you for your time. Since you won't help me with my healthcare needs, I will be seeking a new primary care physician at this time." Then get yourself a new doctor.

Under the ACA (the Affordable Care Act, aka Obamacare) the procedure will be completely free with your insurance. That's why it's important to make sure you have health insurance before you request the procedure. The Trump administration is sure to try repealing the ACA again (in his first term, John McCain was literally the deciding vote on overturning the ACA, and he's fucking dead now and congress is full of MAGA sycophants). So you need to work quickly in case your sterilization will no longer be covered.

I strongly recommend you seek more advice from healthcare professionals. @plannedparenthood is also a great resource for everything to do with reproductive healthcare. But this should help you get the ball rolling.

Good luck, my dear. Here's more of our advice:

How to Prepare for a Post-Roe World (Bonus Episode) 

How To Get an Abortion 

How (and Why) to Take Back Reproductive Rights: On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back 

Did we just help you out? Say thanks with a Patreon donation!

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Chapter 18

You store your backpack in the lockers provided for the purpose, then step into the line for the metal detector. You looked up what to expect when you visit somebody in jail, and so far everything checks out. It’s a long line. You wait your turn, step through the metal detector with no incident, and make your way up to the check-in desk. The officer behind it gives you a cursory glance. “Name?”

You give it, along with your birthdate, and she types it into her computer. A moment later her expression relaxes. She’s just seen that you’re quirkless, which means she can let you in without any special accommodations or extra guards. “Who are you here to see?”

“Aiba Manami,” you say. “My cousin.”

You haven’t been reading the news very much. You wouldn’t have known that Manami and the villain she works with had been arrested if Isuzu hadn’t texted you in all caps, asking if you’d seen the news and dropping the link when you said you hadn’t. And sure enough, there was Manami’s picture, right next to her villain crush’s at the top of the article – only they didn’t call her Aiba Manami. They called her La Brava, the name her villain gave her.

Isuzu was scandalized when you asked if anyone in the family had gone to visit her. You knew that meant no, so on your next three-day gap, you made plans to go see her. And here you are, hanging out in a visitation room, waiting for the guards to bring her in. You’re the only one in this particular room, and you know why. Manami’s quirk is useless without her villain nearby, and they’ve almost certainly separated them. And you don’t have a quirk, so you're useless overall. It’s safe. Enough.

When the guards bring Manami in, it’s clear that she’s been crying. A lot. Her eyes are red, and her permanent dark circles are augmented by bruises from rubbing them. She looks shocked to see you at first, but it’s not long before her eyes fill with tears again. “I didn’t think anyone would come. The family is so mad –”

“Fuck the family,” you say. Tomura and the others must be rubbing off on you. You never used to swear this much, as evidenced by the fact that Manami’s jaw drops and a startled, nervous laugh sneaks out. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve been kind of keeping my head down.”

Manami’s gaze sharpens. “Why?”

“Um – no reason. Not really.” You need to be more careful. There’s nothing you’ve said so far that doesn’t sound suspicious. “Should we sit down?”

Manami sits down on the table, and you sit down in a chair. She’s so tiny that even the height boost from the table doesn’t put her at eye level with you. “How are you doing?” you ask, before she can ask you anything. “I don’t know all of what happened, obviously, but I – um –”

“Gentle fought Midoriya, and he lost.” Manami sniffles, while you try to conceal your shock. Midoriya Izuku really gets around. “My love wasn’t strong enough.”

“I bet that’s not it,” you say at once. “That kid’s just berserk. Nobody who runs into him gets away clean.”

Manami picks her head up out of her hands to give you a weird look. You look back, trying not to panic. Your brain-dead civilian act won’t work on Manami – she’s known you your whole life, and she knows the kind of tricks you play to fly under the radar. Then her gaze slides away from yours, and her eyes fill with tears again. “If I had just loved him more –”

“Did he say that? Your – uh, Gentle?” If he did, you and he are going to have words at some point. You might not be very intimidating, but your friends are terrifying, and you’ve picked up a few tricks from them.

“No.” Manami wipes her eyes again. “Of course not. Gentle loves me. He would never. Have you – have you seen him? I don’t even know where he’s being held.”

You shake your head. “I can find out if you want.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! I haven’t seen him in so long!” Manami’s expression transforms. You really hope that’s not what you look like when you think about Tenko. “You should meet him. He’s the most handsome man in the world, and he’s so refined and elegant – and honorable – and tall! Tall boys always thought I was too short, but he can carry me around all day if he wants to.”

You absorb that image with some difficulty. “Nobody in here understands,” Manami continues. “They say I’m too nice to have ended up a villain, but they’re only saying that now that it’s too late. Everyone was cruel to me before. None of them cared. Except him.”

She looks back at you, her eyes bright. “Our charges aren’t that bad. They can’t keep us here forever. I know we’ll be together again once we’re out.”

You envy her confidence, and the fact that she’s right. If Tenko gets captured, he’s never getting out of prison. The only way you’ll be together is if he wins. “I’ll find out where Gentle is,” you promise, and Manami smiles. It shouldn’t be hard to do. Kazuo could probably find out without even touching his quirk. “I’d like to meet him sometime. I’m glad there’s somebody who makes you this happy.”

“Really?” Manami looks surprised. “My mom called me and yelled at me about him. And my dad. Everybody.”

“Fuck them,” you say patiently. The sooner Manami picks up that attitude about your whole stupid family, the better. “If he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s what I care about. Even if he likes tea a little too much.”

“Ugh, that’s how we got caught!” Manami flops backwards onto the table. “Midoriya Izuku ran into us and Gentle had to say something about him ruining the aftertaste of the special tea – and then Midoriya knew about the tea – so then Gentle had to talk to him about it –”

This sounds like a train wreck. “I didn’t know tea could do that.”

“Me. Either.” Manami sighs. “He was so excited that somebody else might like the weird stuff he likes. I can’t be mad at him for loving stuff. Even if he was dumb about it.”

She glances at you. “What would you do if your boyfriend was doing something dumb?”

“Drag him out of there.” That’s basically what you did that night in the convenience store, and you and Tenko weren’t even dating. “But I’m taller than you. It works a little better.”

“I knew it!” Manami crows, and you jump. “I knew you had a boyfriend! You didn’t even deny it.”

Manami’s sneaky. You forgot about that. “I was being hypothetical.”

“No you weren’t. You aren’t very good at makeup,” Manami says. You freeze. “Maybe you could fool a boy, but any girl could see that hickey from space.”

You clap your hand over the side of your neck, but it’s already way too late, and Manami laughs so hard she starts crying again. Maybe you’re bad at makeup, but you’re going to blame this one on Tenko – Tenko, who missed being crushed to death by inches seven times during the last fight cycle, and was so strung out on adrenaline that you could barely get him to focus long enough to try to fuck him to sleep. If he couldn’t focus on that, there was no way he could focus on not being loud, and he bit down hard on you to muffle himself so the others wouldn’t figure out what was going on.

There wasn’t time for you to grab a condom, so your first errand of the next fight cycle was the morning-after pill, followed by drugstore-brand makeup to cover up the bite mark. Apparently you did a bad job. A really bad job. “How do I fix it?”

“Tell me about the boy first.” Manami wipes her eyes. “Do you have a picture?”

You do. It’s old, and it’s in a locket around your neck, and your hand twitches upwards to it before you can stop yourself. Manami’s eyes track the motion. “Let me see.”

You hesitate. There’s a chance that Manami will be able to recognize Tenko – she went to your fifth and sixth birthday parties, and he was at both of them – but even if she recognizes him as a kid, she probably won’t be able to match his face to Tomura’s as an adult. You unclasp the locket and hand it over. “This is him as a kid. I don’t have a recent one.”

“Oh, he’s cute.” Manami tilts her head, studying the photo – and then her eyes widen. Her voice goes whisper-quiet, so much that you have to lean in to hear. “He’s alive?”

You nod. “He’s who I think he is,” Manami says, and you nod again. Of course she guessed. She’s a villain, and you know for a fact that villains keep track of each other’s press clippings. You should have thought of that, but you didn’t. Maybe you wanted her to know. “How?”

“They took him.” You’re not sure how else to phrase it subtly. Manami closes the locket and hands it back to you. Her hand is shaky. Yours is steady. “I’m lucky I found him again.”

“Lucky?” Manami shakes her head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no? Look at your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend is a gentleman thief. He’s refined and elegant and he wants to write his name into history by making things better.” Manami’s proud of him, proud in a way you can’t be proud of Tenko, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Yours did – that.”

She’s pointing at the bite mark on your neck, the one she was teasing you over a few minutes ago. Now it’s something evil, just because of who left it there. “I could be into that,” you say, and she gives you a frustrated look. “It’s not any different than you.”

“It is. Look at me.” Manami gestures to herself, her eyes brightening with tears again. “Me and Gentle don’t hurt anyone. Gentle wants to help people and show them another way. What does your boyfriend want?”

To tear the world down, so something better can be built by people who know what needs to be fixed – but he has to tear it down first, and that will come with casualties. Lots of them. You’re slow to answer, trying to package it in a way that doesn’t sound insane and terrifying, and Manami takes your hesitation for what it is. “You don’t have to do this,” she says. “You’re not like I was. You have friends. You have a real job you like, and you’re normal. I mean, quirkless, but normal.”

Not quirkless, but that doesn’t matter. You stare her down, daring her to say what she actually means. To her credit, she does. “You don’t have a reason to do this,” Manami says, and she talks right over you when you protest that you do. “That means you have a choice. It doesn’t have to be him.

“I don’t have a choice,” you say. If she’d just let you talk, you could have explained, but you don’t need that many words to do it. “I –”

You’re trying to say you love him. If you can’t say you love him – to your cousin, who knows all about love that ruins you – who can you say it to? You try again. “I don’t have a choice. I – I lo – I do. I lo –”

Manami’s hand clamps down over your mouth. “Don’t,” she orders. “You have to save it.”

“What?” Your voice is muffled. “I can’t say it. I’m trying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I say –”

“You can. You have to save it for when it counts.” The door to the visitation room opens, and over Manami’s shoulder, you see a guard step through. Two guards. No, three. “You’ll find Gentle, won’t you? You promised –”

“I’ll find him,” you say. You grasp Manami’s hand, hold it tight. “And I’ll be back to visit you. I promise.”

“Please think about what I said,” Manami says. She looks worried – worried, and sad, and even when the guards come to collect her, she hesitates long enough to try one more time. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to be like me.”

You thought you and Manami would be on the same page about things, since you’re both in love with villains, but apparently not. Apparently Manami sees the League as much worse than Gentle Criminal, just like the League sees Overhaul as worse than they are – and she’s worried about you. Yoshimi’s worried about you, according to Mitsuko and Ryuhei, but Manami’s worry worries you more. And then there was what she said while you were stuttering and panicking around the admission that you love someone you’ve loved in one way and another for almost your entire life. Save it for when it counts. What does that mean?

“Wait.” A guard stops you as you try to walk out through the metal detector and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Take that off.”

He’s pointing at your locket, and your hand flies up to cover it. “Yeah, that,” the guard says. “Take it off before you walk through.”

“It was fine before,” you say. Your nerves are jangling. “Why do I have to take it off now?”

“The prisoner touched it.”

“So you think her quirk works on a locket?” You can’t be combative right now. You can’t make waves – but you’re angry with yourself, angry with Manami, and you don’t want to hide it. “She touched my hand, too. Are you going to make me take that off?”

“Take it off or I’ll detain you,” the officer says. If you’re detained, they’ll search your backpack, and if it comes down to them looking at a baby photo of Tenko or checking out the gun in your backpack, you know which one you prefer. You take off the locket and drop it into the guard’s palm. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

You stand there, seething, as he pries open the locket and studies the photo inside. It occurs to you that the guards were watching you and Manami, that they saw her reaction when she opened it. Of course they’d want to take a look. But the guard never met Tenko, doesn’t know what to look for, and after a moment, he hands the locket back. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” you admit. You look down, bite your lip, the picture of quirkless contrition. “Sorry. It just means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” the guard says magnanimously. They’re all magnanimous once somebody gives in. “Go on.”

You walk through the metal detector again, retrieve your backpack and your phone, and step out of the jail. It’s a sunny day, but it’s cold, and you wish you’d brought a heavier coat. Or a scarf. It’s not hard to imagine that the bite mark is beaming like a searchlight from your neck, letting everybody know just how bad your boyfriend is at keeping quiet. You alter your priorities. You’ll get a scarf first. The firing range will still be there after you’ve covered up.

This far into the fight against Gigantomachia, and your errands during each fight cycle have taken on a new pattern. Food and sleep first – as guilty as you feel for eating hot food and sleeping in a bed when Tenko can’t, you’d feel guiltier if you made a mistake because you were too hungry and sleep-deprived to keep a clear head. Once you’ve gotten that out of the way, you do a few things to maintain the ruse that you’re on a leave of absence from work, then check up on the others.

Usually that means corralling Toga, or finding Compress before he can fence whatever he’s stolen. He’s recognizable enough that it’s safer for you to fence it yourself. You worry less about Spinner. Spinner tends to stick close. If he’s not shadowing Tomura or passed out and snoring, he’s usually following you. Once you’ve checked up on them, made sure they’re eating and sleeping in addition to whatever else, you run an errand of your own. You’ve got a gun now. You need to make sure you can use it.

You go to at least one firing range every fight cycle, sometimes more. You’ve learned how to tense yourself against the recoil from a shot, how to load and reload quickly, how to clean the gun, disassemble it, and fix any problems with it before they get work. The main thing, the most important thing, is shot selection and accuracy. Your accuracy is decent – not quite as decent as it is in Call of Duty, but above average. It got a lot better once you stopped trying to aim for the head.

You don’t need to aim for the head. You don’t want to kill somebody. What you need to do is slow them down long enough for you or your friends to get away, and that means hitting somewhere in the center mass. The fact that gunshots to the center mass can kill somebody just as easily as shots to the head is something you try not to think about. You’ve got a lot of practice not thinking about stuff by now. Enough that you can almost forget about the casualties that will result from tearing everything down, and forget basically everything Manami said except her stories about her villain boyfriend and your twin promises to visit her again and find out where he is.

You text Kazuo to ask if he knows where Gentle Criminal is being held, telling him specifically not to use his quirk to find out, and put your phone away. Then you step into your booth at the firing range.

You’re good enough at it now – barely – that you can practice firing one-handed, firing from positions other than square-on in front of your target. You’re also practicing using the gun for something other than shooting people. One of the guys at the firing range in Nagoya, an ex-cop who took a shine to you in a way that made you deeply uncomfortable, told you that a gun’s not helpful at a distance of less than twenty feet. Somebody with a knife can close that distance faster than you can fire. Dodging a knife strike and clocking somebody in the side of the head is a better bet, so today you’re practicing that, too. You’re as useless with a latent quirk as you were without one, so finding another way to be useful in a fight is your top priority. A stupid latent quirk is the same thing as no quirk at all.

But even as you practice firing one-handed, firing from a crouched position, firing from the floor, you can’t shake off what Manami said. Her hand covering your mouth, her order to save it for when it counts. Save what? The I love you? Sure – you should probably tell Tenko before you tell anybody else, as soon as you figure out how to get the words out of your mouth. What was weird was how intense Manami was about it, but Manami’s always been intense about love. Intense enough to cover your mouth about it? Maybe. Maybe she just wanted you to shut up about how much you love Shigaraki Tomura, aspiring of the supervillains, while you’re in the visiting room at a jail. She’s been at this longer than you have. She’s better at it.

She’s the second person to point out that Tenko’s hurt you, and she and Mitsuko had the same reaction. You’d be worried about it if you didn’t know the whole story, but you can’t explain that your boyfriend bit you because he’s loud in bed or that he hates letting even you see him cry. You also can’t explain that you don’t hate the bitemark, that you don’t want people to see it but aren’t mad that it’s there. You definitely can’t explain that you’re trying to build a new world, and you’re terrified of the thought that he won’t be in it with you.

And there’s no possible way to explain that you’ve weighed the world against the idea of losing Tenko again and decided that keeping him was more important. Not without sounding insane and selfish and awful. Not without sounding like a villain.

You stay at the firing range, drilling over and over again until the time you’ve paid for runs out, and then you check your timer. Four hours before the end of the next fight cycle, and the new base camp is two and a half hours away. That’s plenty of time for you to get there before Tenko does.

Or at least that’s what you think. There’s a disruption in the train service, courtesy of some villain, somewhere, and you wait as ten minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour and a half tick by. There’s no way you’re going to make it there by the end of the fight cycle, and you might miss the break entirely. You have to be there. You need to see Tenko and make sure he eats and sleeps, so that the next fight cycle doesn’t end with him being killed. This far in, he’s barely alive. You don’t know how he’s keeping it together. You don’t know how anyone is.

Another twenty minutes slip past with agonizing slowness. You’re getting desperate. If Kurogiri was here, you’d have options, but he was captured months ago, and you don’t know anyone else who has a –

Yes, you do. You dig the earpiece the doctor gave you out of your backpack and activate it, jamming it into your ear. The doctor’s already on the other end of the line, and that strikes you as weird, but you don’t have a chance to think about it any more before he speaks. “I was just about to reach out to you, Saintess. There’s been a development.”

Your blood turns to ice. Tenko can’t be dead. He’d have told you first if Tenko was dead. If Tenko was dead, you’d know. “What is it?”

“Shigaraki Tomura has devised a plan to destroy both of his enemies at once – the Metal Liberation Army, which has challenged him to a battle, and Gigantomachia, whom he has yet to defeat.” The doctor doesn’t explain who the MLA is, but he doesn’t need to. You’re quirkless. You know all about the people who want to make society’s might-makes-right thing explicit instead of poorly concealed. “I’ve just transported he and the others to the outskirts of the battlefield. He gave me explicit instructions to keep you away from the fight.”

“No,” you say at once. “I’m the medic. They need me. I have to be there.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the doctor says. Oh. “I believe you could be very useful indeed. Stand by for transport.”

You hold still. The doctor heaves a dramatic sigh. “That means get out of sight, dear.”

You’re an idiot. You duck into the bathroom at the train station and lean back against the door, blocking anyone from coming in. “I’m out of sight.”

“Excellent,” the doctor says. A moment later, your mouth fills with black sludge.

When you get to the edge of the city that must be the battleground, the fight’s already in full swing. You can tell by the clouds of dust that are rising, the flashes of blue flame appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Tomura must have called for Dabi. Dabi, but not you. Dabi can fight.

“Allow me to provide the lay of the land,” the doctor says. “The Meta Liberation Army has a hundred thousand members in this city alone. Shigaraki’s objective is to hold them off, without drastically reducing their numbers, long enough for Gigantomachia to awaken and pursue him here – where he will theoretically clash with the MLA and incur enough damage to allow Shigaraki to defeat him.”

It’s brilliant. Tomura’s plans these days usually are. But when you check your phone for the time, your heart sinks. “They’ve still got an hour left. That’s too long.”

“That’s where you come in, my dear. The MLA left you out of their calculations entirely due to your perceived quirklessness.” The doctor sounds smug as all hell. “I’ll direct you where you’re needed. With that gun of yours, the amount of ammunition you’re carrying, and the practice you’ve been putting in, you should be quite effective in thinning the MLA’s ranks – assuming, of course, that you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

You made that decision a while ago. You put on your veil and crown. It’ll complicate your vision, but you couldn’t practice with it on. “I’ll do what needs to be done to keep Tomura safe.”

“Let’s hope he proves worthy of your devotion. Descend into the city. Avoid the main avenues and work your way towards the tower in the center.

It’s a distance down to the city, and the doctor put you on a rocky slope. There’s probably a defined path down, but you don’t want to waste time looking for it, and you roll and slide and tumble your way down to level ground, the doctor tsking in your ear the entire time. You ignore him and choose a deserted side street, working your way towards the chaos in the center of the city. The doctor gives you periodic updates. “Toga has neutralized her opponents, but she was injured – no, no, my dear, your objective is Shigaraki.”

“I’m the medic. If Toga is hurt –”

“Twice is on his way to assist her, and her injuries aren’t immediately life-threatening.” The doctor’s voice takes on a bite of impatience. “You’ll be able to aid her later, assuming Shigaraki’s plan succeeds – which it may not do if you waste time here.”

Helping Toga isn’t wasting time. But there’s a bigger picture here, and you know it. You pick up the pace again, jogging through the streets, until the doctor tells you to stop. “Dabi and Compress are near. Dabi’s opponent could stand to be distracted. Avoid being seen.”

So you can’t help Toga, but you can help Dabi? The doctor’s priorities are pissing you off. You creep closer, pivoting down a small alley and climbing into a building, peering out a broken window for a better view. There’s Dabi, and Compress. And there’s his opponent, some guy with white hair in a blue coat, who’s doing his best to crush Dabi and Compress under a hail of ice.

Strategy isn’t your strongest suit, but this one is easy. Dabi is the League’s only ranged combatant – other than you, and you barely count. If Dabi loses this fight and switches to chasing Tomura, it’s over. Ice Guy is moving around a lot. You take out your gun, make sure it’s loaded, make sure there’s a round in the chamber. You can’t stay here long. You have to get out fast, so you give yourself three shots to get the job done. You peer up over the window frame, steady yourself, flip off the safety, and hook your finger around the trigger. Ice Guy is holding still for once, bantering about something with Dabi. Perfect.

You fire all three shots in a tight burst, but you aren’t solid at this distance, or this angle. You miss with all three, and you cringe in embarrassment. Ice Guy falters for a second, looking around wildly for the source of the gunfire. You drop to the floor and belly-crawl out of sight, gritting your teeth at the amused note in the doctor’s voice. “Obviously it would have been better if you’d hit him, but he’s unsettled enough to hand Dabi a momentary advantage. All Dabi must do is make use of it.”

You make your way into the building’s back lot, then through a gate onto a quieter street. This one is lined with piles of dust. Big piles of dust, and two sets of footprints through them. “Tomura was here. And Spinner?”

“Yes, although Spinner’s unable to compensate for Shigaraki’s near-incapacitation.” The doctor gives you a new direction to run in and keeps talking. “I admire your efforts to keep him healthy, but they’re ultimately futile. The exhaustion will kill him sooner rather than later.”

“Later,” you correct. He can die of exhaustion when you’re both ninety. “Where are they?”

“Continue straight, then turn left at the next major intersection.” There’s an edge in the doctor’s voice now. “If I were you, I’d hurry.”

You pick up the pace, furious with yourself for not being able to move faster. Training with a weapon clearly wasn’t enough – on your days off, you should have been improving your physical fitness, enough that scrambling from house to house as cover on a street parallel to the one Tomura and Spinner are traveling on would be nothing to you. You turn left at the next intersection and you’re bolting down the street when the doctor orders you to hide, his voice loud and sharp. You dive into the shelter of the nearest fenced yard just in time to see a horde of figures dressed in black and white stampede down the street Tomura and Spinner are apparently on. It looks like Twice. Twice, but hundreds of him.

You thought his quirk would only let him make two copies, and he never copies himself. What happened? “It appears his quirk has awakened,” the doctor says, and you realize you’ve spoken aloud. “If only the same thing would happen to you.”

“If I could do that, I’d know.” You poke your head up over the fence to see if it’s clear, and one of the Twice clones spots you. Shit. You duck down out of sight, but you know he’s coming. “What should I do?”

You hate yourself for asking, and the doctor doesn’t answer. At least not in a way that’s helpful. “Your objective is to aid Shigaraki. Proceed with that in mind.”

Before you can even begin to parse that, the Twice clone reaches over the fence and grabs your arm, pulling you upright. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here! Shigaraki said to keep you away!”

“I’m supposed to be here. I’m the medic.” You struggle to pull your arm free, but he’s stronger than you. “Let go. I have to help him –”

“We’re helping him.” The clone’s chest puffs with pride. “Don’t worry, sister. Your boyfriend’s in good hands!”

You need to get away from Twice. You need to get away from him right now. What’s the chance that this is the real Twice? Next to none – you can’t imagine the real Twice leaving Toga’s side if she’s hurt. With that in mind, what you’re about to do should have no consequences whatsoever. “I’m sorry,” you say to the clone, and you strike him so hard in the side of the head with the barrel of your gun that he collapses instantly into sludge.

“Wonderful. It seems you weren’t lying – your devotion to Shigaraki does extend to getting your hands dirty.” The doctor sounds pleased. You don’t feel like anything at all. “Continue your pursuit course. Shigaraki has pulled ahead of Spinner, but you shouldn’t have trouble catching him.”

You decide against using the main streets, opting instead to hop fences and cut through backyards and alleyways. You don’t want to have to kill any more Twice clones. You don’t have the greatest view, but you’re sure the doctor will tell you if you need to speed up. Tomura might be in the midst of a battle, high on adrenaline, but you’ve eaten and slept in the last three days, so you must have the advantage in speed. You’ll catch him soon. You have to.

You hear the screech of tires, followed by the sound of hundreds of feet on the road – and then a voice, booming out through a megaphone. The voice that responds is quiet and thin in comparison, but you recognize it. It’s Spinner’s voice. Is Tomura with him? No, the doctor would have told you to change course, and he’s said nothing of the kind. Out of everyone in the League, Spinner’s the most loyal to Tomura, second only to you. He wouldn’t leave Tomura for anything. You break the back window of one of the houses, climb in, and pick your way through until you’re peering through the front window. There are too many people in the way. You head for the stairs.

Once you’ve got the elevation, it’s obvious – Spinner’s trapped in the middle of an angry mob. There’s a news van blocking his way, and a guy standing on top of it. He’s calling Spinner by what must be Spinner’s real name and saying the kind of things that make you see red. Spinner shouts back, owning it – owning weakness, owning a lack of vision, owning unimportance except as a follower to better people. That’s not all he is. You don’t let anybody talk to your friends like that, your friends included.

You need to do something. “No,” the doctor hisses in your ear. “Pursue Shigaraki. Leave him.”

“No,” you say. The doctor makes a scathing, offended sound into the phone. “That’s not who I am.”

You don’t have enough bullets in your gun or your backpack to take out the entire crowd, but you can handle the guy in charge, and the resulting chaos might be enough of a distraction that you can yank Spinner out unnoticed. Forget this only-three-shots nonsense – you extract another clip from your backpack and set it down beside you, at the ready once you empty this one. You break the window you’ve been peering through, trusting that the mob’s own noise will cover the sound, and screw the silencer onto the end of your gun. You haven’t practiced with it much, or at all, so you don’t know how it’ll disrupt your shot, but between the gun and the clip you have nine shots to get the job done. At least one of them will have to hit.

The man on top of the van has just donned a mask. Probably a support item rather than a shield, but you were never aiming for his head. Your first shot strikes him in the shoulder. He staggers, turning halfway just in time for you to empty the clip, sending two bullets tearing laterally through his torso. You eject the empty clip and load the next, and in the time that takes, your target collapses. His blood is pooling on top of the van, running down the sides. He’s not moving. Unless somebody in the crowd has a serious healing quirk, he’s dead.

You turn away from the window and race back down the stairs, keeping the gun hidden at your side. Most of the mob’s forgotten Spinner in their efforts to help the leader, and Spinner’s crawled through them, heading towards you. He must have guessed who was shooting. He’s the only one in the League who knows about the gun.

You race out of the house to help him up, drag him out of sight. One person notices the two of you, and you shoot them without thinking twice. Not fatally. It won’t be fatal if they get some help soon.

Spinner needs help right now. He’s bleeding, and while you can see the puncture wounds in his shirt, you can’t tell how deep they are. “You’re wasting time,” the doctor hisses in your ear.

You ignore him, but Spinner unknowingly echoes him a moment later. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, grimacing in pain. “Get to Shigaraki. He needs you.”

“I’ll patch you up and we can both go.”

“No, you need to –”

There’s a colossal explosion from somewhere in the distance. At least, you think it’s an explosion. You don’t know what else to call it, except that it’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, and it makes the ground rattle beneath your feet. You and Spinner both freeze. “What was that?”

“Change of plans, my dear. Get as far from here as possible.” The doctor’s voice is in your ear again – and in Spinner’s, based on the way Spinner startled. “Shigaraki has engaged the leader of the Liberation Army, and his chances won’t be improved if he’s distracted by your presence.”

“What if I just shoot him?” you ask. Spinner stares at you. “The leader of the Liberation Army. Could I get a clear shot?”

“He’s the size of a house,” the doctor says, and your stomach clenches tight with fear. “You could hit him from the moon if your weapon had the range. But you don’t, and he’ll see you coming, so –”

“He wouldn’t care about me. You said it yourself. I’m quirkless, so I don’t factor in.” You help Spinner straighten up. “I’m Tomura’s sidekick. I can’t let him fight alone.”

“You can if doing it will get you flattened.” Spinner stumbles as the ground shakes again. “Give me the gun. I can do it.”

“You won’t be able to get clear in time.” Get clear in time for what? At the kind of range you’ll need to be effective with a gun this small, you won’t be able to get clear, either. The ground rattles again. “I have to do this.”

“Yes, I believe you must.” The doctor’s voice is crisp and abrupt, almost as abrupt as his change of tune. “I’m quite impressed with Shigaraki’s fortitude. I’ll be sending another gift to assist him in this fight, in addition to you. Spinner, make for the outskirts. I’ll direct you to Toga and Twice. Saintess, head for the center. Stay out of sight as long as you can.”

There’s no time for you to patch Spinner up. The two of you trade a glance and a nod, and then you split up. Spinner books it in the opposite direction of the disaster that’s unfolding at the center of the city, and you run towards it.

What you see there in the midst of the destruction horrifies you. You’ve only caught glimpses of Tomura’s battles with Gigantomachia, but you’ve heard stories from the others, and in spite of the fact that the giant he’s fighting this time is smaller, you can tell from a single glance that his odds are worse. He was tired going into this fight, and he’s already injured beyond what you or anyone else could fix. And unlike Gigantomachia, this giant can talk.

He wants to know what Tomura’s going to do with the world, if he survives. “Is the pursuit of destruction your only worth as a human? The world you wish to create will be as empty as you are.”

“It’s not my world.” Tomura’s face is smeared with blood. One of his legs is twisted at a terrible angle, broken so badly you can’t believe it’s bearing his weight. His left hand is mangled, missing two fingers at least. He can’t fight like this. How could he? “It’s for them. They can choose what’s in it.”

It’s for him, too. If he gives you the chance to build a new world, you’re going to make it worth living in. “They can choose?” The giant scoffs. “Your pack of outcasts and delinquents don’t have that kind of vision. None of you can see beyond your own petty desires and think of the greater good!”

“I don’t need to see it.” Tomura stumbles sideways to avoid a strike, then loses his footing and falls. “She can.”

He’s talking about you. You get set, raise the gun, and fire.

The giant is too bulky for your bullets to make much of an impact. You’d have to hit him in the eyes or the mouth, and you’d have to get closer for that. He reacts to the shot like you’d react to a mosquito bite, mere annoyance and temporary distraction, and Tomura struggles back to his feet long enough to exploit the opening. For a split second you’re drawn back to the games the two of you played as children – facing some terrible villain, distracting them so Tenko could land a decisive blow. The same game as always. Now it’s real.

Even with the giant distracted, Tomura’s injuries are slowing him down. It’s not just that he’s limping. You come closer, unable to stop yourself, and you see how badly he’s favoring his other side. He’s only got one hand, his quirk at half the strength it used to be, and even as your empty the remainder of your clip into the giant’s torso, load another, and fire again, you know you can’t do enough to make this fight one Tomura can win. If you’ve really got a quirk, if there’s something you can do, now’s the time.

But there’s nothing. Why would there be anything? If you had anything more you could do, you’d do it. if running into the middle of things and getting killed to save him would mean he’d win, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You wouldn’t hesitate, but you won’t get the chance to choose. The giant’s spotted you. He swats Tomura aside with one hand and turns his attention to you. “So you came to join us after all,” he says. You hold your ground. If he comes close enough, you’ll have a clear shot at his eyes. “It’s a shame to say so, Saintess, but there’s no place for your kind in our future. I’ll put you out of your misery.”

You shoot him. It glances off his cheek, and his footsteps rattle the ground, jarring your next shot into thin air. “You’re only resisting the inevitable,” he continues. “Is this truly a world you want to live in? A world where meta abilities are used freely, where your kind are left to occupy the lowest rung of society while the rest of us wait for evolution to wipe you out?”

You’ve heard people with quirks say some truly out-of-touch things, but that might be the worst. You open your mouth for a retort, but instead of a snappy comeback or heartfelt appeal to humanity, laughter pours out. You can’t make it stop, and the giant stares at you, puzzled. Behind him, you see Tomura rising from the dirt, all his weight on his knees and his mangled hand. It only takes a split second’s thought to understand why he’s putting pressure on his injured hand instead of the good one, but it’ll all be for nothing if you can’t give him time. You need the giant to keep looking at you.

He hasn’t looked away. Your semi-hysterical cackling is keeping all his attention. “Is something funny?”

“This world you want,” you start. You have to pause to suck down air, aware that he’s coming closer to you, aware that you can’t let him look back at Tomura. “It’s the same world we have right now. I’ve lived in your perfect world my whole life.”

Tomura steadies himself. You see him steady his right arm with what remains of his left hand before the giant’s bulk fills your vision. You look up at him, holding his gaze even as he raises his hand to crush you to a bloody paste on the ground, and you smile, even though your veil hides your face. “It’s our world now.”

The giant’s fist comes down towards you. You hear a distant scream. A split second later, the ground falls out from beneath you.

You can’t decide if you’re dead or not. You’re falling through a haze of dust and ash, listening to screams that fall abruptly silent, flinching as buildings crack and crumble around you. Above it all there’s a sound you’ve never heard before – half howl of rage, half insane laughter, all rough and painful, as though it’s tearing apart the throat it’s issuing from. Tenko’s still alive. You can’t die yet. You have to get to him.

Maybe your quirk is some kind of willpower, because even though the impact with the ground is agonizing, you’re on your feet within seconds of the hit. You find yourself standing on the edge of a massive crater, one that’s swallowed half the city. You’re not the only one at its edge. You see Spinner, Dabi, Compress, Twice – about a billion clones of Twice, holding as many clones of Toga, and Giran off to one side with a clumsy bandage wrapped around his hand. The League of Villains made it through.

A few members of the Meta Liberation Army made it through, too. They’re staring down into the crater, sheer horror on their faces, as they look at what’s left of their leader.

He amputated his legs to avoid getting caught in the wave of Decay Tomura unleashed, and the part of you that’s a nurse and not a murderer notes that those wounds will need to be cauterized soon if he wants to avoid bleeding out. But the leader of the Meta Liberation army is a footnote, an afterthought. Tomura’s down there, too. Tomura’s on his feet. His hair’s gone pure white, and his right arm’s been torn to shreds.

He and the Liberation Army’s leader are talking. You can’t hear what they’re saying, at least not at first. Not until the leader announces his unconditional surrender and orders his soldiers to lay down their arms – or rather, to turn them over to Shigaraki Tomura, the new leader of the Meta Liberation Army. Tomura’s won, and it’s not just the MLA who’s submitted to him. When you glance at the far side of the crater, you see Gigantomachia crouched there, calm and awaiting orders. It’s a mark of just how focused you are on Tomura that you didn’t even notice.

The enemy leader’s still talking, but Tomura’s not paying attention. He’s looking up, around the edges of the crater, his eyes lingering on each member of the League. Twice and Giran to Twice and Toga, Dabi to Compress to Spinner, and finally to you. You hold his gaze, unsure of whether to take down your veil and smile, not certain if he needs reassurance that you’re okay or if he’s just making sure you’re alive. Then his face goes pale beneath the mask of blood. You see his eyes roll up in his head, and before you can make a move to help him, he pitches sideways, unconscious.

The enemy leader is the one who catches him, and something snaps in your head. You hop the edge of the crater and skid down the slope, racing towards them. You’re not the only one on the move – Spinner and about fifty Twice clones are doing the same thing, and the enemy leader is shouting for help. Somebody with a healing quirk, maybe. Or transport to a hospital. You can’t think. All you can think about is getting Tomura away from the person who was trying to kill him five minutes ago. A person whose soldiers will kill you all without him to lead them.

You pry Tomura out of his grip, slide your backpack off your shoulders, and start giving orders. “Twice, take the sterile pads and start packing them onto his legs.”

“Whose?”

You gesture one-handed at the giant, who’s not so giant anymore. “Re-Destro,” he introduces himself.

“Yeah, him.” Once the Twice clones are in motion, you unwrap the scarf you bought earlier today and shove it into Spinner’s hands. “Use that as a tourniquet for one of his legs. Find something else for the other one.”

Spinner doesn’t question it. You wonder if he’s made the same calculation as you have, figured out that your survival is tied to Re-Destro’s for right now, but now that you’ve got people helping him, you can focus on Tomura. And Tomura is – is –

The rise and fall of his ribcage is lopsided. He’s got a punctured lung. His shirt’s been torn away, and most of his torso is turning a strange mottled color, one you remember all too well from the victims at Kamino. Internal bleeding. His left hand’s down to three fingers. His right arm’s all but flayed. His leg’s broken so badly that you can see pieces of his femur protruding through his skin. The only thing that’s still working properly seems to be his heart. He still has a pulse, but he needs more help than you can give him. You can’t tourniquet internal bleeding. You can’t stitch wounds inside his body. As much as you want to save him, this is out of your skill set by a hundred kilometers.

You hear a helicopter approaching, and when you look up, you see a cross painted on its side. Medevac, but they’re here for Re-Destro, not for Tomura. When he sees the medics approaching, Re-Destro shakes his head. “Take him. I can wait.”

You’re terrified that they won’t listen, but Re-Destro’s minions are loyal. They come to Tomura’s side instead, load him onto a stretcher, and rush him to the helicopter with you chasing after them. One medic turns to tell you to back off and you shout in her face. “I’m a nurse! I can help!”

You’re not sure if she believes you, or if she just believes that you’ll throw yourself in anyway and spend the entire flight clinging to the landing gear if she says no. Whatever her reasons are, she steps aside, and you scramble onto the helicopter alongside Tomura’s stretcher.

You’ve never been inside any helicopter before, and you have a feeling that most of them aren’t this nice. They have actual gear, actual scanners, and while you get pressed into service trying to secure Tomura’s broken leg, then promptly kicked out to deal with his right arm, the medic who let you in runs a scanner over his torso. The image pops up on a screen attached to the cockpit divider, and when you glance up at it, your heart plummets a thousand meters, all the way back to earth.

Internal bleeding, just like you thought. Massive internal injuries, the kind a person can’t come back from, and the medic who ran the scan shakes her head. “Even if we had the blood to transfuse him, we can’t waste resources. This is ATC, and with those injuries – he’s not going to make it to the hospital.”

“No.” Your voice comes out watery and weak. “There’s something you can do. There has to be. I know –”

“You’re a nurse. You should know.” The medic gives you a look. “He’s got minutes. Say your goodbyes.”

It feels unreal. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not like this, not after everything the two of you have been through, not after he’s won. How could you have let this happen to him? You look back up at the scan, hoping desperately that something’s changed and finding nothing. The medic is right. You’re a nurse, and you should know – a patient with injuries this severe isn’t someone who can be saved. No matter how many surgeons could work on them, no matter how many units of blood they might be transfused, there’s no way to hammer life back into a body this damaged. It’s cruel to try.

You lift his right hand, careful to avoid making contact with all his fingers at once. You can’t kiss it, but you bow your head over it all the same, fighting back tears. You can’t face the thought of never hearing his voice again, never linking little fingers with him again, never kissing him or making him laugh or playing another game. You swore you’d follow him through the end of the old world and into the new one. You can’t lose him again. If you could take his place, you would.

“Tenko,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you, even though everything that matters is already beyond your reach. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to say, why the words are lighter than air on your tongue. “Tenko, I love you.”

You curl over his hand, eyes shut, head bowed. You can’t watch the light leave his face. Feeling his hand go limp and cold will be horrible enough. You stay still and wait as seconds tick past. Seconds, then minutes. The medic said he had minutes. How many minutes did she mean? A spark of hope catches in your chest and you smother it without mercy. He’s gone. You can’t have him back this time. He’s gone.

You hear the medic’s voice, but nothing she says makes sense. “Scan him again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You stay where you are until someone nudges you aside, but you don’t open your eyes, and you don’t let go of Tenko’s hand. The scanner hums as it runs over his limp, nearly lifeless body, then emits an excruciatingly loud beep. Even with your eyes shut, you see the flash of the screen coming to life. The medic’s voice is hesitant, stunned. “Holy hell.”

“That’s not possible,” the other medic says. “It isn’t! Not without –”

Both of them stop talking. If they’re not going to explain, you should look up and see for yourself. You open your eyes, and sit up, and that’s when you see the second scan, side-by-side with the first. And they’re – different. The first scan is apocalyptic, unsurvivable. Even someone with no medical training could tell. The second scan is bad, too, but it’s better. Better enough to change his status from black-tagged to red-tagged in the medics’ opinion, because they get back to work, working around you rather than telling you to move.

It’s weird, because you’re definitely in the way. You’d ask you to move, if you were them. Do they need you to help? You ask, and the other medic lets out a cracked, uncomfortable laugh. “You’re more useful where you are.”

“What?” you say blankly. “I don’t understand.”

“I do,” the doctor says in your ear. You’d forgotten he was there. “Tell me what you see.”

You describe the first scan, then the second. “Hm. It sounds to me as if Shigaraki’s body is repairing itself,” the doctor says. “Small repairs, obviously – he still requires major surgery and quite a bit of luck – but even such repairs take hours, days, or even weeks to occur naturally. And here they’ve occurred within the space of a few minutes. My dear Saintess – it seems you have a quirk after all.”

The doctor keeps talking, about how he and All For One are never wrong, how you were so silly to doubt him, how he knew your quirk would awaken if the right circumstances were met, and you ignore him. It’s easy to do, just like it’s easy to ignore the medics as they pivot around you, easy to ignore the pilots’ discussion of which MLA-controlled hospital to make for, easy to ignore the fresh scan that pops up on the screen, revealing even more improvement – impossibly slight, but enough. You focus on holding Tenko’s hand, keeping it safe between yours for the landing on the hospital’s roof, the race down to the operating theater, the hours and hours of surgery that leave you dead-on-your-feet tired, interrupted only by orders to move this way or that.

You’re still holding his hand as they wheel him out of surgery, into the recovery unit off the ICU. Still not thinking. Still ignoring everything but his hand, warm and wrapped in bandages, a pulse still beating in his wrist. He stirs slightly in his sleep, eyelids fluttering half-open with no awareness behind them, and you wonder if he’s in pain, if you can call someone to medicate him so he’ll get a good night’s sleep for the first time in months. Your hands are stiff and frozen around his, locked into position for hours on end, and you force yourself to let go. You might need your hands to help him. You’re still a medic, still a nurse. He might need more from you than this.

You leave your little finger linked with his, though. It’s tradition by now, and tradition, too, to tighten your grip just a little bit, letting him know you’re here. “I love you,” you say, in case he’s listening. It still feels easy to say.

Tenko doesn’t stir, doesn’t open his eyes. But his breathing is even, his heartbeat steady, and his finger hooks a little tighter around yours. He’s all the way under. It’s just a reflex, but you’ll take it as proof: In spite of everything, he’s here, too.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

*t-poses into inbox* TIS I! 🎨 ANON!

We don’t talk about how I had to spend 5 minutes making sure this complies to your rules because I have a lot of mental disorders so I had to make sure this doesn’t cater to them lmaoooo

My hyperfixation is Tokyo Ghoul despite it being literal YEARS but whatever (I’m watching it again currently)

Ayato Kirishima with a male!S/O who has a hard time controlling his kagune (i.e when he’s scared he accidentally activates his kagune, when he’s angry it’s there. You can essentially think of it as emotion based) so he has a hard time hunting for food and doesn’t like to go out in public because of that

If you need more I gotchu but do your other requests before mine I know I get priority but nah I can wait

Kirishima Ayato - With Ghoul Male Reader Who Can't Control His Kagune

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hello 🎨pallette anon, I'm finally going to write your request after however long after you sent it to me. Sorry about that. By the way, college classes have been a major reason why my posting schedule has been all over the place, I swear I meant to get to this sooner. Anywho, I hope this is to your liking, and once again sorry for the delay. —Benny🐰

Warnings -> Mentioned Death, Mentioned Cannibalism, Mentioned Murder, Alluded Past Trauma, Ayato Being a Sweety

                                                                                                   

🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀

🐇 While he definitely wouldn't say it out loud, Ayato is incredibly concerned about you almost every hour of the day, though when he has important matters to attend to that worry is pushed to the background but is certainly still there. He's worried that you'll end up getting caught and killed or, worse, taken and experimented on by the CCG, so he's the slightest bit thankful that you stay inside more often than not. Ayato does make sure to drop by your place often to see if you're still there, and if you go out, he makes you tell him what you're leaving for and the exact time you left through the front door; he's not fucking around when it comes to your safety.

🐇  Usually, Ayato hunts for the both of you; he wants you to be able to go and get food on your own eventually, but until he's able to help you keep your emotions in check a bit better, he won't allow it. He may or may not enjoy being relied on by his cute boyfriend, but you didn't hear that from me. When he brings home a meal, he'll snack on it on the way to your place, but don't worry, he always makes sure to leave your favorite parts alone; Ayato just adores when you give him that happy grin while your cheeks are stuffed with the flesh of his latest game.

🐇  Often if you begin to have a panic attack or have strong emotions and your kagune begins to show itself, Ayato will 'reluctantly' grab onto your hand and give it a comforting squeeze. Although that squeeze tends to be a bit too tight most of the time and leaves you with an aching hand afterward, don't tell him that; he'll beat himself up for accidentally hurting you and won't touch you again for quite a while after that. If you're both at home, Ayato will drag you into bed and pull you against his chest, his hand rubbing your lower back under your emerged kagune to coax you into slumber.

🐇 When you both go out, be it for house essentials, food, or new clothes to replace the ones permanently stained with blood, Ayato always stands behind you and watches for potential threats or things that may stress you out. Suppose he sees that something is beginning to upset you, he'll grab you by the arm and physically turn you away from it, distracting you with an interesting object that's being displayed in a shop window or quietly telling you a piece of information about himself that you didn't know. Ayato is a pretty closed-off person even to those he's closest to, so he uses these hidden nuggets of information to his advantage whenever he's taking care of you.

🐇  Ayato is a very busy person, so he can't be with you as often as he'd like to be; to solve this problem, he's taken to leaving you little gifts around your place. A cute rabbit phone charm that he asked Uta to help him paint to look like his old mask, a few of his hoodies, random stuffed animals that he found on the side of the road, a couple of severed fingers for you to snack on in a take-out box, anything he thinks will make you feel better, to be honest. One time, Ayato even went out and bought you one of those cute squeaky stress balls whose eyes pop out when you squeeze them; it was a rabbit, of course.

🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my masterlist!

[shion-ah]

Death of me

Cillian Murphy as Thomas Fucking Shelby

"Do you honestly think I could ever forget?"

Hayley Atwell as Katherine Redwine

"Christ...just tell him or I will."

Annabelle Wallis as Grace Burgess

"Is that jealousy I hear?"

Joe Cole as John Shelby

"You'll always be a Shelby never get that."

Paul Anderson as Arthur Shelby

"Don't worry luv, we got you. Who do I gotta kill?"

Sophie Rundle as Ada Shelby

"You've always been there for me, of course I'll be here for you."

Helen McCrory as Polly Grey

"Us women are smarter. Now chin up, we have a job to do."

Chapter One

The air of Small Heath seemed to have a way of sticking to your skin or clothing. It left you feeling almost sticky and sweaty from the grim that would collect no matter how careful you chose to be. The people had grown used to such things and one could never be too precious about their clothing. Children seemed to run wild with their dogs and friends, men in the factories returning home covered in soot and the women trying to keep their homes cleaned to the best of their ability. Katherine Redwine had been brought up on Watery Lane and in her young mind, she believed that this was always going to be the case. “Kat, are you listening?” The annoyed voice of Ada rang through her ears pulling her attention away from the window. “Yes, of course. You were saying?” Katherine gave her friend a smile and lifted her cup of tea to her lips. It was rare that the two girls got moments like this and she didn’t mean to waste her time lost in the clouds. Ada watched Katherine with a sad smile of her own. Since the war Katherine hadn’t been the same, which she supposed was the common saying amongst the rest of the world. “I was saying that I think it is time that we get you back out there. You are a beautiful girl and I know anyone would be lucky to have you.” Ada leaned forward in her chair and crossed her ankles. “He wouldn’t want you to live like this. Pat-” “I’m alright I promise, I am just not ready. There’s still too much to do right now.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Since the men had come back home it had been a hard adjustment for her. First her brother had been killed and the man she had loved for most of her life had simply turned his back and had barely spoken a full sentence to her. And now that same man seemed to have found more trouble as if he had been fishing for it. Katherine shook her head placing the cup down back on the table giving the young Shelby woman’s hand a small squeeze. “But in the meantime I look forward to hearing all about how sweet and kind Freddie is.” At the mention of Freddie Thorne, Ada's cheeks began to flush, the usual reaction when the man was pulled into the conversation or whenever Ada told her friend of the latest escapades the two had gotten into. Katherine watched as Ada continued to talk about how much she loved Freddie and the latest times they had to meet up in secret, the forbidden romance felt like a dream she had had once. She had been so young when she first met him but those blue eyes of Thomas Shelby would forever haunt her. She was sure she would die with the image of his eyes, his smile permanently imprinted into her thoughts. She had been so angry with him, the sting of her slap across his face still stung her hand when she thought about it for too long. Of course when she had heard of what he found she wanted to try to knock some sense into him. 

And now she had a sinking feeling in her gut that felt like it was growing larger and larger each time she tried to swallow. Leave it to the most clever man she knew to bring down the eye of the government, the IRA, and god knows who else by finding and taking those guns. 

Thomas fucking Shelby. 

Those words rang in her mind when her man had told her, they rang when she confronted Charlie Strong and Curly. And once she had left Ada making her way down the street and heard of his stunt with the Chinese in a show to gather more bets. Any time she had tried to tell Thomas that he was getting into things he had no business doing, he would tell her that it “wasn’t women’s business” and would drop it at that, leaving Katherine to stare at him in a mix of frustration and continued heartache. 

Katherine began to make her way to the Garrison pub for her usual one drink with Harry giving a small nod and smile to the people she passed and in return would gain her own “Mrs. Shelby” greeting. She had grown numb to the nickname and had given up on correcting those that continued to use it and she decided to see it as a type of shield. No one fucked with the Peaky Blinders and the Shelby name went a long way in Small Heath. If Thomas had taught her anything it was to appear as calm and unbothered as possible when inside you just want to shoot something, or rather someone.

“Welcome in my lady, your usual?” Harry said, placing a glass down on the bar once Katherine had entered. She made her way to the middle of the bar and took her usual seat. “Yes please, Harry.” Katherine gave the older man a kind smile and glanced about the pub. The usual bar flies were about four glasses in and only acknowledged her with a simple nod or not at all. “How have you been Harry? Haven’t been given any trouble have you?”

“None, miss. Mostly the occasional drunkard fight but it ends well enough.” Harry placed the Irish whiskey down for the Redwine and leaned on the bar top. “You look as if you need a good drink and a good sleep.” Katherine huffed a laughed at her friend’s words and shrugged taking a sip from the amber liquid. “Don’t I always look this way?” She teased tilting her head. She had always enjoyed Harry’s company; he was kind in his own way and cared for the Garrison like it should have been. This was home and he had taken care of her when she had gotten so drunk she hadn’t been able to stand and he made sure that she would never reach that low again. He had made Katherine promise to not lose herself in her grief or heartbreak. He had been the father figure that she needed after Patrick had been killed. 

“Kat, don’t bullshit me.” Harry shook his head. Katherine spun her glass slightly, his gentle but stern tone was comforting in a sense. It was the same tone he had when he found her in the private room that Thomas always used. She had broken down and cried in Harry’s arms and was more whiskey than person and she was sure her breath could have caused an explosion if she lit a match. Earlier that day they had held a service for Patrick and it had really hit her that he was gone, her big brother, her protector was nowhere to be found. Just like her Tommy, sweet happy Tommy who was able to light up a room with his smile and whose laugh was contagious seemed to have died the same night. Harry had listened as she cried and mourned the lives lost and dreams that were crushed but once she was done he picked her up and helped her upstairs and cleaned her up and put her to bed. He had banned anyone giving her any kind of alcohol in the Garrison until she was able to function. He would be damned if the sweet girl turned into one of the men he served. “I’m fine Harry, I promise.” Katherine was touched as he watched her but before he could comment the doors to the Garrison were pushed open as the one man who she couldn’t stand walked through in the most attention way he could have. 

Fucking Thomas. 

(It will get better I promise but let me know what you think!)