bicheetopuff · 2 days ago
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Shounen was written for young boys to help them to get stronger and find a purpose in life, thats why most shounen series end up in marriage and having kids. Japan's birth rates are dropping each year and you guys want to see Deku and Bakugou end up together instead of Deku and Ochaco getting married and having kids? The stories and media we consume has to match the standards of real life you know.
Wow… this is a lot to unpack. A normal person would just ignore this, but lucky for you, I’m a bitch when I wanna be, and I happen to have time on my hands right now.
1) “Shonen was written for young boys to help them to get stronger and find a purpose in life”
Shonen is literally just a genre that directly translates to “young men.” But I think you’re trying to define the meaning of story telling as a whole, and even still, that’s a very narrow way to view an entire genre.
Stories meant for young men, most of the time, are meant for entertainment. You have anime’s like Dragon Ball and Naruto that’s almost nothing but action scene after action scene with very little thought provoking plot, because at the time, they were written for young boys. Like, they were aired on children’s channels back in the day, young boys. And while I won’t deny that there are definitely some good lessons in both (I can’t speak much because I never finished Naruto and only got about 20 episodes into dbz) they’re not meant to make a boy “stronger.” Lessons in early shonen were meant to broaden world views and increase emotional intelligence in a way that’s easy to understand. I guess it depends on your definition of what strength is, but I feel like strength is built from personal experiences, not watching an anime.
That being said though, the shonen/young boys genre has evolved over the years in the east and the west. Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, and Attack on Titan, are all shonens, with aot being also classified as a seinen. Those are most definitely not meant for the same age group that Dragon Ball and Naruto and One Piece were written for, given the amount of gore and heavier themes presented. Now, that’s not me looking down upon those stories at all, that’s me pointing out the obvious difference in tone, despite them being classified as the same.
As the genre evolved, authors approaches have also evolved. Literally read any interview from any modern shonen author and you’ll see how unserious they are when it comes to their own stories. Gege didn’t even like writing his story past a certain point and was just trying to push through it, because it wasn’t the story he originally wanted to write. Horikoshi has always said he just wanted to tell a story with no real goal towards the audience. Chainsaw Man is literally about a guy wanting to touch some boobs??? What about any of that screams, “I’m writing this to raise the new generation of young boys into strong husbands and fathers who know their purpose in life!”
Shonen as a whole has grown into a genre meant for young adults, with heavier themes and becoming increasingly more political. It’s not the same genre it used to be, and trying to say that it is, isn’t fair and is lowkey insulting towards authors with a more progressive world view.
2) “Japan’s birth rates are dropping each year and you guys want to see Deku and Bakugou get together instead of Deku and Ochaco getting married and having kids?”
Yeah… you’re right. I’d rather see a well written relationship come to fruition than watch another male author completely disrespect their female lead and ripping away her development. Why the fuck would I, an infertile acespec queer person, give a fuck about using two fictional characters to inspire young people to get married and start a nuclear family…
Also the birth rates are dropping all over the world, don’t pretend it’s only a Japanese issue. In Asia specifically, the birth rate is going down because women are tired of men’s shit and refuse to bare their children, and I’m actually happy as fuck that other parts of the world are following in their footsteps.
Women have been treated like shit in every corner of the world for so fucking long, and we all just dealt with it because that’s what we all thought we were supposed to do. It’s about fucking time we actually put our foots down and protest in the ways that we can, which is practicing our rights to autonomy. Why tf should we be responsible to bear the children of men most of us barely even like? And why is having children a mans responsibility, when women are the ones who have to carry the babies? Besides, why the fuck would anyone want to bring a kid into the shit show that is the world right now?
We’re over populated, have a really fucked up consumption and capitalism problem which causes us to depend on disgustingly unethical ways to find resources to appease everyone, there’s fucking flowers blooming in the arctics, there’s several genocides happening in the world as a result of neglectful and corrupt governments, a literal ethnic cleansing happening, and a carton of eggs costs 12 fucking dollars while the minimum wage stays at only $7.25 and the cost of living isn’t affordable unless you’re making nearly triple the minimum wage. I don’t even wanna be subjected to this shit and I’ll be damned before I subject a child to it against their will. Most of us can’t even afford to take care of ourselves without our parents help right now.
Also, what does a gay pairing have to do with the birth rate at all? Is Deku gonna carry that baby? Or are you seriously just narrowing down Ochaco to nothing more than his incubator? If Ochaco decides to have kids one day, why should it have to be with Deku? Oh and I hate to break it to you, but Ochaco becoming a mother isn’t going to solve any of the issues you presented.
3) “The stories and media we consume has to match the standards of real life you know”
…you’re talking about a story where one of the background characters has a god damn spray bottle for a head…
It’s fiction. Superhero media, at that. None of it has to follow the ���rules” of real life, and most of the time, this kind of media does the exact opposite of following societal norms. And you thinking otherwise probably made Stan Lee roll in his grave.
Also, what’re your standards for real life? Because everyone’s standards are different. If yours is to get married and live in a traditional household with five kids and one source of income in this economy, then I think you’re the one being unrealistic here.
We shouldn’t burden children with adult responsibilities. Having kids and being a “good husband” isn’t something a child should have to think about until they’re older and only if they want to. Believe it or not, not everyone’s goal is to get married and produce offspring. We should be encouraging children to do the things they like doing without having to worry about adult shit yet. Not indoctrinating them into believing that the only way for them to be a successful adult, is if they have kids.
Using shonen and other conformative media that is dead set on maintaining the status quo to brainwash kids into wanting to be parents before they even know how babies are made, is weird. Don’t be weird, anon. You sound like one of those “alpha males” with a red pill podcast, convincing young men that crypto scams are a perfectly ethical way to make quick cash.
Literally just say you’re a misogynist, and move on. And get tf out of my inbox.
P.S.
You know gay men exist in real life, right? You’re talking as if gay men aren’t real. Not only are they real, but they also have nothing to do with the birth rate dropping. Find something else to be mad about.
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insanechayne · 1 year ago
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pellucid-constellations · 1 year ago
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Are You Bored Yet?
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Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader
Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.
Word count: 8k
Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:
a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️
Masterlist
~~
12:59 pm.
The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.
Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 
Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 
Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 
With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 
Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 
But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 
One minute. 
Two minutes. 
The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 
1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 
You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.
With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 
“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 
Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 
His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 
“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 
“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 
He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 
“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 
“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 
“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.
Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 
You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 
The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 
He was lucky you accepted bribes. 
~~
“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 
“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 
It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 
“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 
You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 
He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 
You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 
Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 
Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 
You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 
“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 
“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 
You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 
“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 
“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 
Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 
“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 
He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 
You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”
“Something like that.” 
He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 
Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 
You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 
The duality of man. 
It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.
“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 
You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 
“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 
“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 
“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 
“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 
He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 
You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 
“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 
“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 
You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 
“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 
Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 
This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 
“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 
Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 
Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 
Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 
Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 
“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  
You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 
He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 
Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 
“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 
“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 
“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.
Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 
You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 
~~
Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 
Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 
Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 
Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 
Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 
“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 
“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 
The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 
You: Your house is soooo dirty
Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 
After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 
The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 
“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 
The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.
“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 
“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 
“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 
You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 
“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”
Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 
“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 
You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 
Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 
He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 
You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 
And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 
You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 
His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 
“M’not even that drunk!” 
“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 
“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 
“We both know that’s not true.” 
You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 
Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 
“So much.” 
“How much?” 
You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 
“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 
“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 
“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 
His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 
You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 
You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.
Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.
“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 
“You’re so fucking pretty.” 
He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 
“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 
“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 
Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 
This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 
Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 
But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” 
Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 
“Would you let me?” he responds. 
“Yes.” 
He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 
But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 
A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 
A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 
“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.
Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.
You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 
You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 
Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.
You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 
You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 
He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 
You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.
That you should be different, somehow.
~~
Bucky: You’re here???
Bucky: Where are you?
Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone
Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 
You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 
You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 
Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 
When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 
Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 
From: University Peer Assistance Program 
Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 
This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 
Thank you, 
University Peer Assistance 
You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.
This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 
But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 
You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 
Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 
Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 
The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 
His mistake. 
That word felt wrong. 
You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 
Ice cream would fix this. 
The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 
Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 
You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 
“Nice outfit.” 
Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 
“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 
He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 
You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 
“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 
“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 
You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 
The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 
You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 
“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 
“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 
“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 
“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 
Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 
You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 
Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 
“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 
“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 
He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 
“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 
He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 
“Please let go of me.” 
The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 
He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 
“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.
“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 
Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”
Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 
When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 
His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 
“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 
The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 
A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 
“Look at me, y/n.” 
You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 
“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 
He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 
You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 
Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.
He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 
“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 
“Of course.” 
There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 
You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 
“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 
He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 
“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 
“You get harassed all the time too?” 
“No…” 
“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 
“Bucky—” 
“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 
Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 
“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 
A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 
“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”
“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 
“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 
He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 
“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 
“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 
“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 
“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 
“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 
“You ever hear of lying?”
“Why would you—” 
“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 
You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 
It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 
“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 
He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 
“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 
You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 
“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.
“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 
“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 
You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 
His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.
“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 
You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 
“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 
“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”
He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.
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paymechildsupport · 7 months ago
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ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ!Ryomen Sukuna x M!ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ!Reader //“𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲..?”
Request, @zxuii
--- "HI HIII first off, i love your writing style, i actually adore it lol. Second I want to request Teacher!Sukuna x Male!reader that was also a sorcerer from the heian era, a powerful one who gets jealous quite often of the attention Sukuna gets since back in the Heian era the only ones who where close enough to Sukuna was reader and Uraume (Unless Uraume didn't exist in this AU or smth happened) so a lot of fights between them break through since Sukuna isn't good with communication either. You can decide if you want this too be Angst in general or paired with something else i don't mind!! :))"
((I love this <3))
-!! M!Reader (he / him)
-!! Wee bit of angst (he's just a saucy boy) + goofy kinda smut (dunno what kind of style it's called lol)
-!! stuff ain't proofread 🥶
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
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・・❥・---------------------------------------------------------------・・❥・
Sukuna remembers you vividly from the past; from that time 1000 years ago. How could he forget? Such a flamboyant character, – power exuded with every step, the earth seeming to shake with every fall of your foot. A wandering swordsman: a rather powerful sorcerer who curiously didn’t belong to any one clan. You’d spend your days traversing the earth, sleeping in the empty shrines near villages, taking commissions and odd jobs from just about everyone– human or not. 
Sukuna found it odd how you didn’t align yourself with the standard belief of sorcerers: you were benevolent to cursed spirits like him, you didn’t have the sudden impulse to exorcize, to destroy. Perhaps it was your lack of loyalty to a clan, or the fact that curses could offer prices just as good– if not better, than humans. Either way, it was quite interesting when you crossed paths for the first time; him, the terrifying, all powerful King of Curses, – four arms and two grotesque faces, towering over you, a humble traveler, – and you just stood there, – smiling, at him, – the rumored monster of Ryomen Sukuna. 
He was absolutely astounded, – had this guy not an ounce of fear? The singlest shred of self-preservation? You should be screaming– running, – begging at his feet for mercy, – not making small talk 
“Nice weather, huh?”
“Excuse me? It’s pouring” 
“Oh, I hadn’t noticed 😋” 
He could sense a staggering amount of cursed energy from you, much more than the average sorcerer– let alone human. 
“Nice jugs btw” 
“???” 
Bud was flabbergasted – he could only watch you walk away with a big grin on your face. Later that evening he had to bring it up to Uruame, who was cooking up the latest harvest of human bones: 
“He said you had a nice chest.” 
“Huh, usually one would think to say that to a woman–” 
“Perhaps the sorcerer thought you were a woman”
“What.” 
Ever since he’s had an affinity for you, a fascination… an obsession. He needed to know everything about you, – your goal, your motives, your desires, your deepest and darkest of fears, – the most depraved of thoughts of this strange sorcerer who had the gaul to compliment his chest like he was some kind of street whore. 
He ran into you the next day at the same village, just as you were about to leave. You acted so nonchalant, like he was just another acquaintance, it was truly fascinating and… dare Sukuna say, endearing. He initially went there to kill you for your audacity from yesterday, yet he ended up only shit-talking the village folk wit you, – the old swordsmith who swore there were devils living in his chimney, - the old woman by the creek who was rumored to drown passerbys in the water next to her tiny abode, - the sleezy thug of a priest who thought it was funny to scam you for cleaning his shrine free of charge (whom Sukuna ended up gutting shortly afterwards). The curse was left to, yet again, return back to Uruame with new rantings of you
(just let them cook in peace 😭)
The next day, a band of those pesky Zenin showed up, – and Sukuna thought the opps were on him again. Turns out, not only were you not apart of any specific clan, but you were also quite unpopular with a majority of sorcerer society. After finding out, Sukuna couldn’t help but rush to your aid, determined to cleave the gang of sorcerers in half for trying to harm such an interesting specimen of his. Imagine his utmost surprise to find them not only beat upon his arrival, but diced up and dead on the forest floor, too. 
He was beyond impressed: a seeming clanless nobody such as yourself had chopped down about a dozen of one of the most powerful sorcerers of the time. You saw him staring from afar, waving and flashing that stupidly charming smile of yours. Sukuna couldn’t help but invite you back with him, the dozen dead bodies in tow 
Uruame cooked up a mighty fine dinner that night, one the three of you enjoyed together (yum, human flesh). From that day on you were part of the gang: you, Sukuna, and Uruame. Most days you would be off for up to months at a time, simply doing your own thing, going town to town. Whenever you’d run into your good pal as he was burning down the latest village you’d make sure to have a nice catch up over a warm meal (cooked by Uruame)
You and Uruame got along, – they liked the fact that you could often cook together, Sukuna– being useless as shit in the kitchen – was barred from helping lest he incinerate everything 
But alas, you were mortal, fickle; temporary, – and no sooner did you come into his existence were you cruelly ripped from him, – finally effectively jumped and killed. 
Sukuna almost couldn’t believe it: you never lost- you weren’t supposed to lose, but you did. You fought valiantly, taking an impressive number down with you. In the skirmish, Uruame disappeared, Sukuna was reduced almost to dust,-- miraculously he survived, albeit incredibly weak. They sealed a majority of his power away in his severed fingers. 
Now, weakened immeasurably and down a pair of arms, – momentarily without his chef and darling sorcerer, Sukuna had a change in heart
No longer did he want to be the bad guy, he wanted to be good, to help others, – to help the future of jujutsu sorcery (nah, that’s some bullshit, he just wanted to continue being fed, and he could only be if he became a teacher in sorcery, lol) 
—----
Flash forward to modern day… 
—---
Seeing you once again, reborn, was a complete whiplash for Sukuna. 
You recognized him immediately, obviously, – he was your man after all <3 (even if he denied it) 
Poor baby had to physically restrain himself when he saw you back to kicking ass as a modern day jujutsu sorcerer, having not changed an ounce since he last remembered you
You miss his four arms, – almost more than Sukuna did. It disappointed Sukuna to see you disappointed with his lack of arm power. Still, he only needed two arms to absolutely destroy you--
After the incident with Yuji Itadori accidentally consuming one of his fingers (which made Sukuna livid– blud has been sweating and grinding to get those fingers back, and to find out some random goofy ahh kid decided to munch on one? And they wanna give him MORE??) – Sukuna has been absorbed more than ever into his work. 
You adore his students, – especially Megumi, Nobara and Yuji – (much to Sukuna’s dismay) and oftentimes will stop by his lessons just to bug him in front of them 
You were still the same insufferable charmer as before, shamelessly batting your eyes and making crude comments to catch him off guard: 
“Hey cutie ;) “ 
“Hell do you want” he sneers, “wish to be my example for today’s lesson?” 
“Nah, just passing by, – those pants make your ass look fat by the way” 
“What.”
“Toodles !!” 
It infuriated him, much to your delight 
It was different now, back then it was just you and him, Uruame bearing the only witness to your shenanigans. But when you say those things in front of those brats, – the same brats who were taught to fear and despise his kind, who were suppose to be intimidated by him, – it makes his job of maintaining the tough, snide “King of Curses” just that much harder 
Yuji, with all the time he spent with Sukuna as his main mentor, would ask about you frequently: what you were like 1,000 years ago. Whether it was the nostalgia or purely the fact it was you, – talking about it always softened Sukuna’s grueling and harsh belittling. Poor Yuji could only catch a break when Sukuna started saying “Back in my day..”
“Sukuna-sensei?”
“What, brat?” Sukuna paused, casting an unimpressed glare over his shoulder 
Yuji propped his head onto a fist, leaning on the desk in front of him. The empty classroom was dimming with the setting sun, the vibrant colors that always made Sukuna wanna barf invaded through the windows from the sunset, painting the empty classroom a colorful ombre, 
“You said that odd man who likes to hang around you was around 1,000 years ago, right?” 
Sukuna’s eyebrows scrunch in annoyance, “Yes, and?” 
“What was he like? Does he act the same as all those years ago? How’d he get reborn? What was your relationship like?” The curse wanted to punt the kid across the room with all his silly questions. Instead, – knowing you’d dislike it if he hurt Yuji, – he opted to take a deep breath, air hissing through his teeth, before answering, 
“Mm, you brats are so invasive, – the world doesn’t revolve around you selfish vermin.” sighing, “but fine, I’ll entertain whatever silly fantasy you have about me in your head; he was a sorcerer, a pretty damn strong one, too”
“But you didn’t kill him-” Yuji interjects, confused 
“No, I didn’t” 
“Why, were you two good friends.?”
He growled at the quantity of the questions, causing Yuji to scoot back in his seat slightly, 
“No– well, sort of. I’d assume you could say that.” 
“No-? Really? Kugisaki thinks you two are dating” 
Sukuna’s jaw almost drops to the floor, 
“What.” 
“Yeah, – Fushiguro says you two were together back then too, with the way you look at each other”
With the way he-? 
“Was he your like… private prostitute or something?” 
Sukuna has never heard such fuckery before:
“No. – I’d suggest you’d stop wherever you think you’re going with this, brat.” 
“Did you bang though?” 
That threw him for a loop, and Sukuna couldn’t help but wince at the term. “Banging” was a poor choice of words, – such a word couldn’t possibly do what you two did justice. 
No, you didn’t “bang”
Sukuna couldn’t help but be drawn in by you, – your attitude, your carefree-ness, your power, he wanted it all for himself, – which he sometimes did 
Those endless nights of pleasure where’d he just lose himself in you, - your affectionate caresses, your sweet nothings whispered into his ear that cast shivers all throughout. Sukuna was used to hearing praise showered upon his name, – his devotees throwing themselves at his feet to worship the ground he walked on. But he didn’t care for their praise, – not like he did yours. Your kind words were treasured, craved. If only you had been a woman: he would’ve made you a concubine, – no, – his wife. 
—---
His ego is fragile, witnessing you tearing apart his terrifying image horrifies him. 
Unfortunately for Sukuna, you couldn’t stop dotting on your pretty princess :3 It all came to a boiling point when you saw one of his colleagues start to cuddle up just the littlest bit too close: and he just let them. Seeing Mei Mei acting so clingy with the King made something in the pit of your stomach drop. Your envy boiled, sour and ripening into an ugly weed. It was obvious she held no actual affections (because one, – Mei Mei only lives for cold, hard cash, – which Sukuna didn’t really have on him, which was odd— and two, he was way too old for her tastes)
You just couldn’t help yourself, – he was wearing such a tight shirt, it hid nothing. 
“Yo, nice tits”
He was done. You were done sullying his name with your filthy words, – you were done humiliating him. And he made sure you knew that too
He had pulled you into his empty classroom, all the students and staff long gone. Sukuna towered over you, cold glare sending a delicious shivering cascading through your body, 
“Enough.” 
“Eh..?” you wince, your voice sounded all wrong, too high pitch and breathy, “enough of what?” 
Your damn smile again. 
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your humiliation is not appreciated.” 
You scoff, “humiliation?” 
He glares, “silence, brat” he firmly grabs ahold of your chin, forcing it upwards, making you look him directly in those creepy, maroon eyes. 
One moment Sukuna has his emotions underwraps: he’s focused, – locked in, – he’s not going to let something as fickle as human ‘love’ hinder his plans. The more assertive the better, he would not be walked on – but he also didn’t want to accidentally lash out and do something he ends up regretting 
The next thing he knows, Sukuna starts spiraling, 
“You insist on following me, stalking me for over 1,000 years, – it’s pathetic” wait- what? No, he didn’t mean it like that
“--you mortal brats are as measly as ever, it’s no wonder you died to your own kind” pause, no, no, no, no, no….-- what was he doing? He didn’t actually mean that- 
“--killed by fellow sorcerers: pathetic. Dead and reborn, you’re still the desperate mutt crawling back to me..” Stop. Make it stop. Someone stop him. Stop/
“Uruame should be back here instead, seeing you is the biggest disappointment in this millennium” 
Oh.. 
“... fine then.” Your voice is quiet, small. Don’t look at him like that.
Sukuna’s eyes widened, but he couldn't seem to say anything, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Instant dread pools into his stomach
“I see how it is. If that’s truly how you feel…” 
“Wait no–” Sukuna starts, immediately tensing up as you lower your eyes onto his. He swallows, hard. He hated the dejected, – the defeated look on your face. You looked so sad, and Sukuna couldn’t bear to see you sad , – something that terrified him to no end, — you terrify him to no end. You elicit the most exotic of feelings within him, reviving his ancient, rotten, worm eaten heart to a thunderous boom. Sukuna is reminded of the times back then: you laying in the field, hand twining in his hair, lightly scraping his scalp, – him sighing in content like an old dog. There would be the half eaten corpse of some unfortunate sorcerer off to the side, and you’d occasionally hand feed one or two limbs to the second mouth on his stomach, tongue out and awaiting like a dog’s for a treat  —Such tender moments, the power you have over him makes him feel weak in the knees. Every instinct within him told Sukuna to run, - to protect himself from this threat that was your adoration. The thrill gnawed at him from the inside, – but oh, the ecstasy from it felt so good. 
But he was Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses – he couldn’t face having such an open weakness – taking on a lover would feel like he had gutted himself, taking away a fundamental aspect of his existence as a character. You just have to keep stoking the flames. , 
… “nevermind, just go. I could care less” 
You do, closing the classroom door behind you, and Sukuna can’t help but feel as if half of his soul leaves with you. This happened every time: he’d push you away, only to immediately regret it, craving deeply for your validation. 
Shit, seems like he really did have a lot to learn when it came to such fickle human emotions.
He’d make it up to you, – he always did. 
—-------
You were the only one to bring him to his knees, the only deity the King would bring himself to worship , – and what a divine thing you were. 
Those nights of infinite passion, – you underneath him, (and occasionally him under you–)  he’d take you with the utmost care. Ryomen Sukuna has never been “gentle” with something, – let alone with another living individual, – but with you his touches were always so attentive, so skillful and purposeful. He never wanted to hear you scream in anything but pure pleasure. 
On the most precious of those nights, you’d coax the sweetest of noises from his lips. You could’ve sworn he has whimpered, despite his firm denial. 
You were his God. 
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
A/N: thank you for the request <3
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womenloverlmao · 10 days ago
Text
13 Days of Halloween - Day 2
Special Set - Emily Prentiss X Reader (SMUT.)
Warnings: daddy kink (guys Emily as daddy is a thing I PROMISE), penetration, nipple play, reader is a stripper? Cursing, EMILY WITH A STRAP-ON.
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You and Emily had met through a case, and as unprofessional as it was, she fell in love with a target of a serial killer. Of course, now, that unsub had been long out of your lives. You were safe and happy with your wife. Even so, you never quit your job; you would say it was your passion.
Spooky season rolled around, and it was your favorite of all holidays that was coming up quickly. Although you didn’t do much for events, you had enough fun with wearing just a few costumes.
You were one of the best, everyone loved you, and you were never late…well, actually, that was about to change. You were in a black, more halloween-themed set. It wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but it was cute enough. It was a bat kind of thing…which you didn’t understand how it would be, but at least you looked good.
Emily came in as you were adjusting yourself in the mirror. “Hi, baby,” you said mindlessly.
She turned and looked at you in response, her eyes kind of widening. She had seen you like this more times than she could count but every single time she couldn’t help but be astounded. She was married to you, even though to you it felt like the other way around. “Wow,” she says. “You look…amazing.”
“You think?” You asked with a smile. “I think it makes my boobs look great.”
“It…certainly does,” but she was focusing too much on everything else to look too into that. “What time do you have to go in?”
“About five minutes, why?” You respond.
“Because you’re about to be late, baby.”
“Oh yeah?” You ask. She nods, gripping your hip with one hand while the other moves the hair away from your neck to kiss it gently. You let out a quiet moan, with a whined curse.
“I’m already making you feel that good, hmm?” She smiles against you, her teeth grazing your neck.
“Em, baby…I gotta go,” You tell her, but her other hand grips your waist. She turns you around, and you know that you couldn’t say no if you wanted to.
“Come on, if you really don’t want to say it right now. If not, I’m getting the strap out of the closet and you’re gonna sit your ass on my dick, got it, pretty girl?”
There were no further complaints from you. She took her clothes off, and you helped put the strap-on on her. She was still in her bra and panty set as she sat down, letting you come over and sit on her lap. It wasn’t in you yet, but that would change pretty soon.
She cupped your tits over your bra as she kissed you, and you couldn’t help but whine into it. Even though it was through the material, it still felt amazing in a slightly painful way as she twisted and pinched your nipples through it. She got one last look at you before she unhooked your bra, and you threw it somewhere in the abyss. Emily continued to play with them, until you were begging her to let you ride her.
“Please, daddy, come on,” you whimpered. “I need you, so badly. I can’t handle it, I need you.”
“Yeah? You need me, pretty girl?” She smiled, pressing a kiss to your jawline. You hummed a desperate yes. “Panties off, baby.”
You rushed to get them off before straddling her, sinking down on her strap. She was fully convinced that it didn’t matter that she couldn’t ‘feel’ it, all that mattered was you. She watched your face contort with the stretch, giving you as much time as you needed while gently rubbing your clit.
You started to slowly move your hips against hers, sliding up and down as you let out whines and moans. It was all well and good, but she flipped you over anyways. She positioned it at your entrance again, sliding in as you wrapped your legs around her waist.
She fucked you well, you could have called it making love with the words she was saying to you. Telling you how perfect you were, how much she loved you, and how many times she was gonna make you cum. Her hips moved against yours slowly, but definitely surely. You could feel it hitting all your places just right. “Fuck, Emily- right there-“
“Yeah? You like that, baby? Bring your hand down and rub that clit for me,” she tells you, and you don’t hesitate to listen. “Just like that, good girl. That feel good?”
“Mhm, daddy… fuck, it feels so good…”
She pressed her lips to yours, your lips moving carelessly against each other. She made you cum, over and over again. She didn’t even care about getting herself off, seeing you like that was enough for her.
When you were done, she cleaned you off and did whatever else she knew you would like. After that, you watched your favorite Halloween movie together and Sergio crawled onto your lap to cuddle.
Safe to say, you were pretty excited for what would happen when Christmas rolled around…
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sigmathesillyenigma · 1 month ago
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things redacted!boys do to try and impress their listeners ☀️
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david ;
david loves to cook for angel. he loves the whole process of it, watching the meal come together through preparation, cooking and assembly, then to be served and enjoyed thoroughly by his mate, who's culinary skills leave... much to be desired.
it's not hard to impress someone who's gone months living off instant ramen and coffee, but david likes to be extra anyway (little fuckin leaf on the dish type shit).
milo ;
much like a peacock flaunts his feathers, milo likes to dress up for every single occasion. i imagine sweetheart as going from some loser (and not in the hot way) who wears corny t-shirts, jeans and ugly converses to every event to milo greer. it's a change they welcome with open arms and a red face. it also makes milo proud, to show off both himself and his mate's excellent sense of style, even if it leaves a certain pack beta simmering in the corner as he tries to make an old, ugly belt look good.
sam ;
knowing that darlin' came from someone who likely put very little effort into their relationship, sam chose to go the "acts of service" route. everytime something of darlin's would break, or fall apart, or need fixing, sam would be on it right away. he knows a whole lot more than he gives himself credit for. everytime darlin' hears "let me get that for you," it makes them melt, feeling far more appreciated by him than they had anyone in their entire life.
sam does it for himself too. he likes to do things for someone he knows will appreciate it, someone who won't take his kindness and mistake it for something else. he lives to do things for the people he loves, and survives to spite the people he doesn't (alexiSCOUGHCOUCGH).
porter ;
everything this man does is impressive i love u porter solaire
hush ;
(strange character selection, i know, but he's growing on me. loving hush is an infectious disease and my friends are the carriers)
not quite as sentimental, and i don't really picture him doing this with the intent to impress, but hush likes to spout random, strangely specific facts/observations at doc. for someone who doesn't appear to understand the intricacies and irrationalities of the human world, he has a far more brilliant, clearer lense on it than anyone doc has ever met. it astounds them.
they'll be stood in silence, people watching, when hush cranes his neck to face doc in an uncanny manner and blurts out something like "the man beside the lampshade has been stood there for... five minutes, thirty seven seconds and counting. he's been staring at his phone. from what i've heard, he's currently.."
doc just nods along.
"oh. uh. wow. that's.. how did you?- yup, nevermind actually. very cool."
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@skunkox @vividmilk @definitelynuwonhere
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suiana · 1 year ago
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Oooh your requests are open?? I'm a new anon and have been binge reading your works so I'm quite giddy cuz your works are astounding! Um, how about a star jock in University, known for being quite a blockhead but clingy and very possessive of the reader, a member of the student council? But when asked about his feelings for her, he'll just say "Oh! I'm her bestest friend!" But frothing in the mouth at the sight of another man with her *cough* other student council members *cough*
-🌷🐸🌸 Lillypad
✎ yandere! jock headcanons . . .
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✎ warnings . . .
― obsessiveness, slightly delusional yandere, slight violence etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! jock who's known to be a himbo. cute and athletic but extremely airheaded at times! it's a wonder he's still passing his classes.
✎ yandere! jock who's a golden retriever type of boy. smiling happily at you, clinging to you like he'll die if he's not with you... it's really cute. plus he's sort of dumb and just tilts his head when he doesn't understand when you tell him something! it's super cute! like imagine a big muscly cute guy not understanding why it's wrong to beat up someone for confessing to you! it's kinda annoying but adorable all the same.
✎ yandere! jock who follows you around even when he's not supposed to. at this point he's an honorary member of the student council with how he just follows you into the meetings and has you sit in his lap. though he gives good suggestions and helps enforce the rules so he's not half bad :)
✎ yandere! jock who is madly in love with you. anyone with eyes and half a brain can tell except for you and him apparently. maybe it's the love effect or something but no matter how many times someone tells you he likes you, you don't believe it. how could he? he's just your best friend!
✎ yandere! jock who always freezes up and blushes every time you confront him on his feelings. even though the way you ask it is completely friendly, he can't help but think you might have some feelings too! he always daydreams about you admitting you have feelings for him all along... then a happy ever after~! but that probably won't happen, he can barely talk properly without mumbling and shitting about something else whenever you're on this topic!
✎ yandere! jock who you tutor on a regular basis. yes your majors may be different but you're smart so it's not really all that hard... so you offer to help him out, tutoring him so he can get better grades. it doesn't really work though, your jock can't help but get mesmerized with the way you talk, sit, breathe... anything you say goes in one ear and comes out the other. it's useless trying to tutor him anything at this point. because his mind is always full of you, you, you.
✎ yandere! jock who gets irrationally jealous whenever he sees you hanging out with someone other than him. especially if it's a guy. his heart swells with rage and an indescribable gnawing feeling at the mere sight that he can't help but land a punch on the guy's jaw for even existing. you always have to pull him away and calm him down :( it's a bit too overwhelming sometimes, you can't even talk with your professor without him glaring daggers at the old man!
✎ yandere! jock who would give up everything and anything for you. you're his beloved best friend after all! he'd give up his position as the star athlete and even his position at the university if he has to. anything for you. you're his best friend that he loves too much after all.
✎ "sweeth- my best friend! here, let me help you out! *punches through a wall*"
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spideysbruh · 10 months ago
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anniversary
a post from every year on their anniversay 🩷🩷
year one-
tchalamet just posted a story!
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caption- one year 😳🩷
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liked by tchalamet and 100,177 others
y/n so elated, I'm a happy girl 🩷
view all 9,176 comments
randocalrissian happy era !!!
yourfriend !!!!
tchalamet 🩷🩷
year two-
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liked by y/n, sabrinacarpenter and 2,177,612 others
tchalamet two years with the love of my life. I know I'll love you forever.
view all 107,171 comments
chalshal this soft launch is killing me oh my goddd
dunesarrakis it's @y/n they like each other's posts and she's been seen out with him and even Pauline so much !!
paulstimmy I'm fine... im sooo fine and so chill about this😁😁😁....😭😭😭😭🔫🔫🔫
y/n upgraded to an insta post this year lets gooo
liked by tchalamet
tchalamet only many more to come
cinderellayn what's next year? marriage 🤔🤔🤭🤭
rachelzegler happy two years guys !!! love you both 🫶
y/n and tchalamet liked
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liked by tchalamet, madisonbeer and 324,287 others
y/n two years of doing silly little things with you, my beautiful boy.
view all 97,711 comments
badideayn BEAUTIFUL BOY 😭😭😭🫶🫶
arrakischalamet OMFGGGG
kylestimmy BRO I KNEW ITTTT
tchalamet I love you
year three-
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liked by y/n, taylorswift, ayoedebiri and 4,565,655 others
tchalamet loving you is the biggest fucking privilege in the world. I feel sorry for every person that doesn't get to know you and be loved by you. it's the best feeling. I love you, y/n. happy anniversary, baby.
view all 132,717 comments
chalsharry sooooo happy for you guys 😁😁 (I am going to kms over this)
timotheesknees they are too cute oh my word
y/n sobbing. thank you my love
liked by tchalamet
tchalamet no, thank YOU
kylescigarette the caption... I need a bf sooooo bad
tsgf damn she ugly
bonestimmy damn you're a weirdo
ynscurtains hottest couple ever me thinks
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liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler and 432,277 others
y/n three years 😳 I love you more than words can express. thank you for loving me, walking with me in the freezing cold cause I need a snack, and for putting up with me and my random fun facts. I love you forever, timmy.
view all 98,282 comments
especiallytimothee THE WAY THE SECOND PICS IN BOTH OF THEIR POSTS MATCH OMGGG
duneschalamet THE SECOND PIC 💀💀💀💀 lucky girl fr...
timmyslay the last pic LOLL he's so cute
ynsgirlfriend oh to hear her random fun facts
timmyynstan obsessed w their posts about each other
tchalamet I could never get tired of you or your fun facts, your knowledge astounds me every time.
liked by y/n
sunshinetimmy I'm literally so lonely
year four-
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liked by y/n, zendaya, dylanminnette and 4,228,277 others
tchalamet four years with my muse. I love you mon amour. i love how much you support me in everything I do, and give me guidance when I need it (your candor is much appreciated) I knew when we first met and you made me laugh harder than anyone else ever has that you were gonna change my life, and that you were the girl of my dreams. happy anniversary my lovely girl.
view all 132,287 comments
wonkatimmy WHEN WILL SOMEBODY LOVE ME🤣🤣🤣
timmysgf manifesting they break up soon 🙏🏼
arrakisyn HE AINT GONNA DATE YOU 🗣🗣
dunepaul y/n is too beautiful I swearrr
y/n 🥺🥺🥺 I love you hottie
tchalamet liked
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liked by tchalamet, sabrinacarpenter and 664,616 others
y/n happy anniversary my darling boy, you make me feel like the most loved girl in the world. I am so lucky and so grateful and so incredibly elated to be with you.
view all 99,873 comments
tchalamet you ARE the most loved girl in the world
liked by y/n
wallowsyn I wonder how many pics she has of him that we'll never see...
tsgf she's definitely not the most loved... idk a single person irl that knows her or even likes her LOL
laurieslaurence yall are too cuteeee I swear
tchalamet I love you.
year five-
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liked by y/n, yourfriend, florencepugh and 6,777,717 others
tchalamet happy five years, my love. i don't know how i survived before i met you. every day with you is a dream. I love that I'm still learning new things about you.
view all 321,828 comments
florencepugh you guyssss are the best couple I swear
tchalamet and y/n liked
timmysbath I look forward to their anniversay posts every year
tsgf well they're gonna break up soon according to the celeb gossip accounts so say goodbye to that
laurieslaurence girl where did you hear that LMAOO just so delusional I swear
paulstimmy "celeb gossip sites" just say its from your own head and go
y/n 🥺🥺 being with you is the best thing to ever happen to me
tchalamet liked
wonkaswhore THE LAST PICCC OMGGG 😳😳
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liked by tchalamet, calahlane, rachelzegler and 998,717 others
y/n I'll forever be your own personal photographer. whether a cannibal, chocolatier, or the heir of house atreides, i'm with you for as long as you'll have me. happy anniversary my lovely, talented, beautiful, sweet boy.
view all 102,677 comments
moderntimmy a cannibal 😭😭 she's a bones and all stan fr
y/n hell yeah best movie ever!! I watch it when I miss him 💀💀
liked by tchalamet
tchalamet how does forever sound?
y/n liked
paulsdunes I LOVE YALL SO MUCHHH
floralyn HE'S SO CUTEEEE IMMA KMS
tchalamet I love you so badddd good lord
y/n liked
floralyn hes so in loveee 😭😭
year six-
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liked by y/n, tomholland2013, zendaya and 10,177,717 comments
tchalamet happy six years, my fiancé.
view all 342,616 comments
ynandtimstan CRYINGGG can't believe they're engaged now I'm so happy for them
dunestimmy I ❤️ my parents
lauriexamy that one account is kicking the ground fr
y/n ummmm where's my paragraph this year? 🙄
tchalamet liked
tchalamet being written down for my vows, where's mine? 🤔
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liked by tchalamet, sabrinacarpenter and 1,981,876 others
y/n this time next year we'll be husband and wife. I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve this, but I'm sooo fucking grateful. I love you my fiancé!!!!
view all 100,817 comments
yourfriend wedding of the century!!!
liked by y/n
lauriesring god I wish I was friends with them
tchalamet okay you said you wouldnt post that last one !!!
y/n I never said that! you're just so cuteeeeee, bub !!!!!
rachelzegler when are we going dress shoppinggggg
liked by y/n
tchalamet I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
*
638 notes · View notes
mitsua · 2 months ago
Note
HELLOO!! I love your writing style sm I just had to requesttt😭😭💖 Can you do angsty middleschool!Izuku x Popular!Fem!Reader? Like reader is literally so popular because of intelligence, her quirk, whatnot. A lot of suitors but she still chose to date that quirkless, squirming boy 😭‼️ Lots of people start to mean-eye Izuku cause what did you do to get a girl like her?? what?? So Izuku starts to distance himself but reader is so clingy and whenever he distances himself, reader only gets more bothersome and attached to him so he "snaps" to make reader distance herself cause he's afraid that her reputation will drop because of him. This was before he met all might btw!! What would be the aftermath?
Thank you so much for saying that you precious story!!! I'm so glad you requested too!! Such a thrilling and angsty idea, I love it! Hope I fulfill your expectations!
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Your true feelings
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Warnings: bullies, mentions of self-depricating thoughts, low self-steem, crying, shouting, fighting (verbally), if I missed any please let me know!
Genre: angst Series: Boku No Hero Academia
Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × FEM! Y/N Words' count: 2.91k
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Izuku liked you, he really did. He'd made it clear the day he decided to dump on you all about how he felt about you and since that moment on you've started a romantic relation. One that he couldn't be happier with.
You were simply everything he didn't even know he was searching for—you were cheerful, smart, strong, you were almost everything—he loved it, he loved you.
By simply being yourself with a bit more of carefulness towards him you've managed to make him fall harder for you every time.
You ask how he's doing every morning just as you enter the classroom and see him there, you make sure no one else can hear when he wants to talk about his struggles, you prepare his lunch sometimes too—with you, he can talk so easily about his interests he forgets about everything going around you two and gets mesmerized by your beauty and voice.
Alas, everyone else can see you too and get jelous over the fact Izuku Midoriya—the 'good for nothing nerd' of the class—has somehow a relation with you, and as the rebellious and wild teenagers they all are—they make sure he gets their message of leaving you.
"She deserves much better," "maybe she just agreed to go out with you out of pity," "I'm sure as this year's done, she'll be done with you too."
Those are some of the comments he can hear around him when you're not in the same room as him.
It first started with a couple of confused and disgusted looks from your classmates when you grabbed his hand to take him to lunch or gave him some pecks on his cheeks.
Then the rumour of you two being a thing got confirmed when the first mean bully just so happened to unleash his resentment on him infront of you—whom decided to stood up for the both of you and told them to let you be.
After this ordeal, it was as if all your fans made a silent pact of only teasing him when you're not close. Be it when he goes or comes out of the bathrooms, when you've got to go a bit earlier than usual, whenever they catch him alone.
Izuku didn't want to bother you, he ended up crying by himself at his house each time someone told him how undeserving of you he was, how stupid of him to have fallen in love with the most astounding girl of the school was, lots of hatred filled comments and comparisons.
They started to leave those rude remarks written in his belongings. Locker, backpack, notebooks... they were hunting him to get to you.
There was a breaking point in the poor boy's heart once he saw one of his bullies confess to you at the school's front after classes when you were supposed to go to his house and spend time together.
Of course you told off the guy but as Izuku's rage started to get to the surface, he heard the bully talk bad about him as a person and as a partner.
He froze, you were on the verge of tears as you caught on what he was trying to do—disuade you from loving your one and only—and even if it didn't make your mind change as the tormentor wanted to, it did affect Izuku.
He had gotten to your side and as fast as possible and caught your wrist with his hand, running out of the scene with tears in both of your eyes.
"Thank you for getting me out of that Iz-oh, Izuku, are you ok?" You asked worriedly as you gasped for air when you arrived to a park near your house.
"It's-It's nothing, just that seeing you want to cry made me want to cry too and I tried to move as fast as possible to help you..." he replied, giving you a forced smile. While his body had stopped moving at such fast speed, his mind couldn't seem to do it.
He was nervous to what were you thinking about him right now. He was almost sure you hadn't heard a single bad comment about him than that time you ended up exposing your relation to the whole school, now that the dude had dared to speak up what no one wanted to with you close, he thought he'd lost you. 'What if those observations only served as a reason to break up with him?' 'Did you believe that guy at all?' 'Would you still want to be with someone like him?' 'What were people thinking about you seeing you with a guy like him?'
"Well I really appreciate it, I don't know what that fella was thinking when telling me all that but now that we're finally hereee... do you want to go to the swings?" You suggested with no more glassy eyes and a grin on your face.
"Yeah, that'd be great."
"Did you hear what he did yesterday?" "Yes! I never thought someone would really declare to her knowing she is dating him..." "Just what did she saw in him again?"
The classroom was now full aware of the love declaration you received the day before and were going mad about it prior to classes.
Izuku was going mad about it too. He liked you... he really did. 'But why was his love waning now? Was he seriously going to let people's comments get to him and end things with you?'
"Good morning Izu!" You greeted, smiling ever so brightly just at him and carressing his cheek like you'd always do. "How are you?"
He could only hum in response, not really looking at your eyes, instead staring at his hands that were placed in his desk. He needed time to think about this new insecurities of him without bothering you with all of it and worrying you.
"Uhm, do you want to talk about it at lunch maybe? We can go to our secret spot at the rooftop-oh! Before I forget to tell you, I got you lunch today! I've discovered this new recipe you'd want to try out!"
As you spoke ever so joyous Izuku could only think about how all of their classmates statements were true. You were so much for him, you cared for him more than anyone—besides his mom—had ever done and he didn't seem to be able to do the same for you—hell, even if he wanted to protect you from some danger all he could do is run away with you, he had no quirk either.
You've told him many times that you would never discriminate or think less of him for that, but after yesterday's encounter with that stupid guy and his desire of flying him out of the world's ozone layer, he was not sure about it anymore.
Everything seemed to tell him in one way or another that you were not made for each other, that you'd find better in anyone but him.
Izuku loved you... he really did, and for this he found his heart aching when he didn't meet with you in lunch to speak as you'd usually do. Even if he knew you'd still let him choose to speak right then and there or not, he couldn't bring himself to look at you in the eyes.
You'd gotten worried once your second period of classes started and he could feel your glances at the classroom from your seat to his.
It was difficult to, but he'd also managed to get out of school without you. You tried to follow after him but as you caught a glimpse of his eyes by far and he recognized yours too, he turned as quick as he could to run, then a couple of friends started to approach you and left you with no space nor words to go with him.
Was he avoiding you now?
You liked Izuku, you really did, that's why you couldn't bring yourself to sleep last night since you sent worried messages to him only to get no reply. Opting to just stay up before even your alarm went off, you started preparing food for the two of you. You'd cook your boyfriend's favorite today to cheer him up!
"Hi Izuku! Here! Better put it inside your backpack for you to not forget to eat today!" You showed him a bowl-shapped container and carefully placed it inside his things to then start chatting normally with him. "Soo, how are you today?"
Izuku could not comprehend 'how were you so kind to him? Even when he felt he was being mean to you? Why?' He now wanted to let you see what others had been saying about him all along but you left no room to budge. You were always by his side even after some days of not replying to your text messages or usual videocalls, he'd also flinch back as you tried to reach for his usual morning cheeks kiss in class and excuse himself after school since he suddenly had some other stuff to do.
You loved him, you really did, that's why your heart and mind told you maybe he needed some time or space to think about what had happened when that random guy confessed to you—because it's been since that day that he's gotten a 'little' colder towards you.
It didn't matter, you could give him some days to order whatever was on his mind and come back when he was feeling better. Though it's never been your way of sorting things out with him—you researched online and found out it could be a helpful way to get better as a couple.
So after giving him a week and a half to be reach out when he felt ready to—as you'd clarified via message to him and being left on sentvyour heart broke when there was still no signal of him coming back to you.
'No, don't think negatively now, maybe he just needs me to start up again! There's no problem with that since he's always been shy!' You thought as you came closer to your classroom, an uncomfortable feeling started growing in the pit of your stomach.
"Hello Izuk-" You went to embrace him as your body missed so much his warmth as you hugged him but froze in shock seeing his disturbed eyes after he'd flinched back once again from your touch.
"I'm-I'm sorry, maybe my voice was too loud, haha, soo, how are you? Do you feel better now?" You questioned keeping in mind your voice and opting to take one of his hands on yours, smiling kindly to hopefully demonstrate you weren't being distant because he had done something wrong.
"I'm sorry too, uhm, I-I'm doing better I guess." He said coldly, still not looking at you.
"Maybe you'd like to talk about this lat-" The ring went off and everyone gathered in their seats to start class, as you went to end your sentence, you noticed Izuku had simply taken out his notebook as a dismissing action.
Lunch time arrived and as you didn't find Izuku anywhere in the cafeteria, you thought of going to the rooftop as he'd most likely be there by himself—that's where you'd seen him go to these past days you haven't spent time with him by these hours.
You closed the door behind you and let out a relieved sigh watching him there—sitting down close to where the bars were—so calmly, oblivious to his inner turmoil.
"Hello again!" You spoke softly, smiling tenderly as he heard you and turned to look at you.
"I don't think it's a good time to speak Y/N," he'd finally spoken, but certainly those were not the words you were expecting to leave his lips after a week and a half from not talking to each other.
"I, I came to see how are you doing! I've been so worried this days!" You decided to brush it off as he'd done with your salutation.
"I thought you've finally given up on me." He said ever so softly you first thought you hadn't heard him right. 'You couldn't have, had you?'
"Wha-What? What are you talking about? You know I like you Izuku-I would never do tha-" "don't, please don't continue. I've told you it's not a good time to speak."
"Then could you tell me when will it be?" You asked truly curious and a bit hurt from his way of cutting you off.
"I don't think there would be another time..." "Hey, I'm sure you don't mean that-" "WHAT IF I REALLY DO?!" He cried out.
"Y/N, NO ONE WANTS US TO BE TOGETHER! SHOULD WE REALLY BE THEN?!"
Spilling tears after tears, forest-like green eyes missing their light among all the tall and thorny-full trees were begging for something even he could still not decipher what it was.
"I WANT TO BE WITH YOU, EVERYONE ELSE BE DAMNED FOR ALL I CARE!" You could not help your voice, after hearing him scream you screamed back wishing he'd get your message and be done with all this.
"I-sorry, I want to be with you, Izuku, Izuku Midoriya, I like you, I-I love you, not them." You confessed on the verge of tears, getting closer to take his hands on yours, craving for reassurance that he didn't want neither of this too.
"Then... I don't like you."
He uttered. Shattering your heart and breaking whatever was keeping you together. 'Did he really mean it?' 'Have I done something wrong?' 'Maybe all this time I thought he was the one who needed time to think and change something but actually I was the one who needed to change.'
Your mind ran thousands of miles per hour with all the bad thoughts you were trying so hard to erase. With Izuku by your side it was always much easier but now he'd been the one provoking them.
You liked Izuku... you really did, that's why you felt as if time had suddenly been frozen and you could only stare into those darkened, green eyes. 'When did they lose their spark? Why?'
You loved Izuku... you really did, that's why your heart even while being in so much pain couldn't bare to let your mind think about a life without him.
'Anyone but him.' But for him it seemed to be 'anyone but you.'
"Izu-No, you can't be serious, right? I-It's all their fault!" "Stop it Y/N, I think this has gone for too long now." He balled his fists at his side and went past you to get to the exit door.
"Please tell me you're lying..." you sounded so defeated. Izuku could only take so much and it was undeniable he wouldn't ressist hearing you nor seeing you cry because of him.
"Izuku, what did I do wrong..." you begged for answers most likely to yourself thinking he had already left you alone.
"It's not your fault," between sobs he pleaded, "don't blame yourself."
"It's not yours either, so then why?..." you implored to him, havig already fallen to your knees holding your tearful face with your hands.
"I-..." he'd fallen speechless, his mind echoing your question making him realize what he's been missing all this time.
Clarity. As simple as that.
He's read thousands of books and heard one to many stories were the main character would lack a certain thing and even if it seemed so absurd at the moment how much impact it could have on them once they got it back—Izuku could now understand how they all felt.
His thoughts had all been scrambled ever since that damned day someone confessed to you with no light to help him see the truth behind it all—behind all those jelousy-filled remarks from your classmates—he liked you, he really did. He loved you, heck, he adored you.
'Why did a random person's words have to be relevant to any of you?' 'Why did they get the right to decide who he is with and likes?' 'He had control over his own life, not any of them.'
As if he was holding his breath for days, he hurriedly went to your side, kneeling next to you and cried out apologies, "I'm sorry-I'm so-so sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly, I didn't think how you'd feel when I said that and for that and everything I've been putting you through I'm sorry."
"I love you Izuku, I really do." You shared after a few moments of silence, catching him by surprise when you side hugged him and looked at his matching red-puffy eyes.
"I love you too." He'd ultimately admitted, reciprocating your feelings and looking in that brightness only his eyes could hold and cast light upon yours as well—that, even if you were recognized as one of the most cheerful people on your school and such, you knew you'd be none of that without Izuku in your life ever again.
Oh, how love does wonders, doesn't it?
"Well, let's go and give a fuck about everyone's opinion now!" You encouraged as you caught Izuku to stand up and go back to class.
"Eh?!" He got surprised by your sudden cursing but quickly his eyes softened as he found the deep meaning of your words and nodded his head. "Yes, let's go."
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All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the picture and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!
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slayfics · 24 days ago
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Unknown Pleasures Ch. 4
You’ve had a crush on Katsuki Bakugo since joining UA, but will another student change your mind?
666 words
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Artwork by @bythevay 💜
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You sat in the infirmary, knees pulled to your chest. Across the room, Hitoshi was still unconscious in the hospital bed. Recovery Girl had healed him, but she shared that it would take some time for him to wake up.
The scene replayed in your mind. The way your emotions had got the better of you caused you to lash out at Katsuki, Aizawa stepping in between you both, and the defeated look in Katsuki's eyes.
Could he really be upset you had grown feelings for Hitoshi? If it meant that much to him, why wasn't he vocal about his feelings?
It seemed to you that your presence was always a burden to him. The fight you two had the night previously solidified that for you.
Hitoshi stirred in the hospital bed. His hand came up to rub his face, immediately followed by a grimace after aggravating the burn on his face.
The pain on Hitoshi's face washed away any lingering thoughts of Katsuki.
"Don't," you whispered, pulling his hand away from his face to prevent the dazed hero from scratching at his injuries any further.
"Hm?" Hitoshi hummed, turning to the sound of your voice. Eyes blinking trying to make sense of where he was. The harsh hospital lights illuminated your presence, causing Hitoshi to wonder if this was a dream.
"You're in the infirmary," you explained to him.
Memories came flooding back to him, the venomous look in Katsuki's eyes, followed by a loud bang, hot heat, and then nothing.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled weakly. Even though those words weren't nearly enough, it was all you had.
Hitoshi blinked at you confused again, "There's no need to apologize, this is part of being in the hero course, right?"
"Yes but, Bakugo wouldn't have gone that hard on you if it wasn't because...," You trailed off not knowing how to put the rest into words.
"Oh that, well there's no need to apologize for that either. I know I lost the spar with him, and he messed me up badly but- it's hard to feel like I really lost. Since you're here with me and not him," Hitoshi explained, unable to keep the smirk off of his face.
Even through the bandages and burn marks Hitoshi's shit-eating grin shined up at you. A high that no physical pain could bring him down from. You were here in the infirmary for him, concerned about him, finally leaving Katsuki behind. Finally giving someone else a chance, someone who wouldn't take your affection for granted.
You let out a soft sigh at Hitoshi's unwavering persistence to win you over, "Scoot over," you instructed him.
Hitoshi eyed you curiously, as he scooted over, and you made your way to join him sitting on the infirmary bed.
"You really don't care about what happened today?" You asked, astounded that Hitoshi had such a level head about the situation. 
"Nope. Not as long as you're ok." He stated.
"Me ok!? I'm not the one sitting in a hospital bed," you pointed out.
"Yeah, but I already told you I don't care about that. Bakugo's tantrum today was because he realized he was losing you. That he's wasted too much of his time not appreciating you. I would never do such a thing. I'd never push you aside, or make you have to second guess how I really feel. So- what do you say? Can we make this official?" Hitoshi asked. "Once I'm healed up I'll take you out, anywhere you want to go, and I promise to make you happy."
"How can I say no after everything I've put you through? Besides, it's nice to feel wanted for a change," you said placing a gentle kiss on Hitoshi's cheek.
"Hey!" A voice yelled starting you both. "He needs to rest! What are you doing in here!?" Recovery girl scolded. "Out out!"
You jumped out of bed, "I'll see you soon then," You smiled at Hitoshi before being pushed out by Recovery Girl.
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sinners: @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @peachsukii @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams @bythevay @aespie @thisbicc @bumblebeebutter @luvsymai @h3artz4soph
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shizunitis · 5 months ago
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SVSSS high school AU
[looking out the window with a thoughtful frown]
I was thinking back on my time in high school and…
Did anyone else have a classmate that was obviously Rich and kinda spoiled, but that was So Nice to everyone? Had the mannerisms and vocabulary of a doted-upon heir but the accepting and excited eyes of a sheltered kid seeking friends and companionship? Not necessarily smiling all the time, but was always present and active when interacting with the others?
Shen Yuan. Vice Class President. Beloved by teachers and classmates alike. Always willing to lend you money, and he won’t even ask for it back. Wouldn’t, even if he remembered!
And then the classmate that was subtly bitter about everything and mostly brushed off everyone? Made kinda’ lame jokes but didn’t really seem to care much when no one laughed, cause they wanted the others to let them be? Conspicuously absent from extracurricular activities, really didn’t give much of a shit as long as they got by?
Airplane. Ends up labelled as the class rebel but he doesn’t do anything, so it’s kind of bewildering that that’s his legacy. He is very unaware of his own vibes.
The clearly smart kid who never studies and still gets perfect or almost-perfect marks on everything, but no one really knows anything about them because they’re so reticent? Dislikes attention if it comes from who they perceive to be looking down on them? Any sort of authority figure is, to them, an opponent they must best without letting them know they’re competing at all? Bratty as fuck?
Binghe. Depending on which one we’re talking about, they’re either stupidly popular and elicit jealousy from their peers or admired (and highkey feared) from afar. Is vying for Class President to impress Shen Yuan. They’re a duo! They need to be a united front!
(It would also be very funny to me if Bing-ge was a year older than Bing-mei but got held back a year. The fights? The seething jealousy? Shen Yuan sandwich? Superb.)
Mobei-Jun is the silent, kind of out-of-his-depth but solemn kid everyone gravitates around and it’s astounding to him that these people are so invested in his opinion. Leave him alone. He does not want to bear witness to any of your pathetic attempts at flattering him! It’s so clearly fake. Very pretentious and doesn’t even realise it. Parents are Stupid Wealthy.
The class president is obviously Yue Qingyuan. Luo Binghe will win, though. It’s just a matter of time.
Liu Qingge is on some sports team, probably captain. Luo Binghe will win against him, too.
(Shen Yuan once mentioned that Liu Qingge’s muscles are very manly and now it’s on sight. This is the only thing the Luo brothers agree on. Neither are happy about it.)
God. Imagine them on a school trip. The poor chaperones.
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musette22 · 2 years ago
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I know this has been said so many times in so many different ways, and I have nothing new to add, really. But I am going to say it anyway, because I am just so ridiculously grateful for fanfiction writers. There are innumerable fanfics out there - incredible, mind-blowing stories that are all shared with us for free. Written out of a pure, profound love for existing stories and characters, a need to know them better, explore them, add to them, do something with them the source material never dared. To make ourselves and others feel better, sometimes worse, but mostly just to make us feel.
And don't get me started on the quality of so much of the fanfiction out there. I know talent is an debatable term, but for want of a better one: the sheer talent and dedication of so many of these authors, most of whom have actual, real life jobs and families and other responsibilities, is just astounding. So many ideas, so many beautiful words, so much creativity. As a fanfiction writer myself, I know that it can sometimes be challenging to be creative, to find time and energy to write, when life is just. So much. And yet the love I have for these characters just leaves me desperately wanting to make time and energy to tell the stories I want to tell. Writing fanfiction is a hobby, yes, but for many people, it's also more than a hobby. It's a passion, a deeply rooted desire, even a community.
As a reader, too, I know how incredibly valuable and important these stories can be. I've spent the past few days doing nothing but devouring fic because I've been feeling too crummy to do anything else, and it's been an absolute blessing. Every fic I read was more amazing than the last. They all made me cry, laugh, think, yearn, and just feel so much better. So, I know this has been said many times before, but I just had to tell you again how much I love you, fanfiction writers. Love you with my whole entire, sappy, zero-chill heart.
Thank you for everything you do, all the hours, the blood, sweat and tears, the love you put into your stories, and thank you for sharing them. For just handing them over and releasing them into our custody once they're done, for all of us to read and enjoy, expecting nothing in return but some kudos and comments. That's incredible, ok? You're all incredible, whether your stories are 'popular' or not. So many people would be utterly bereft without you and your efforts, and I just needed to tell you again how appreciated you are ♥️
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i-cant-sing · 3 months ago
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The juxtaposition between Mehmed and Mustsfa is so funny. Mehmet, is a love without respect in contrast to Mustafa's respect without love (because after deciding he wants to marry Reader, he says he likes her, not loves her). Anyways I thought that was a nice little detail. Good work on breaking my heart at every turn during part 10 💔
AHHHH IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE NOTICED THIS <333333 and yes despite everything, Mustafa still only liked you, not loved you. i think thats because he has so much emotional trauma from never being enough that he thinks no one can truly love him, so he doesnt love anyone else either. he's just caught up in his own trauma. he understands that you may like him,you defintely respect him, maybe a small part of u even love him- and for that, he likes you too. maybe if he had more time with you, (and away from Mahidevran), he may have been able to process his feelings better and been actually inlove with u
Mehmed is very juvenile in his love. He's more like a toxic lover boy- "she's MINE! No one should even see her shadow! sigma alpha skibbidy🐺👹💋" like he loves u for sure, he'll whisper sweet words to u as he stares into ur soul, but he's so overly possessive that it just cancel out everything else. he doesnt realise that he's insulted you, because he thinks that youre just being stubborn to accept his "way of protecting u from the world". Mehmed's whole bitching about your niqaab/veil was inspired from me coming across reddit posts and tiktoks where men have sexualised the hijaab/niqaab and it just never fails to astound me just how disgusting any man could be.
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writteninlunarlight-years · 4 months ago
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Things I Wish I Got To Say~
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(Reader is GN, I tried hard not to give a lot of descriptions. This is cathartic writing. I usually write really positive, cute stuff that is a little steamy and romantic. This, however, is just Agnst. This is to release some emotions in me for a long time. I hope you guys will appreciate it as much as I do, and if not, I totally understand. The idea came from a tiktok I watched a few days ago where a man taught his wife how to dance for their wedding day, but she sadly passed before they could have their dance. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it.) P.S. I would not oppose writing a happier ending if you like this. I know how much we all love those. TW: DEATH, Angst, Executions, Depression, Hurt
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Alastors POV
I thought nothing of it the day I first saw you; You were just another person wasting my time in this infernal hellscape. Yet, had I known that you would have wormed your way into my undead heart over time, I wouldn’t have even allowed myself to set eyes on you in the first place.
The day I first met you, I thought you were kind and reserved, yet like everyone else in my life, I saw you as a pawn who could help me achieve my ultimate goal. Had I known that your voice would bring me such peace, I would have never introduced myself so formally to you.
The day I spoke to you on a deeper level than pleasantries for the first time, I was amazed at how well you kept up with my humor and quips. It was a fantastic feeling to hear and see for the first time since my mama had passed. Yet, had I known you would have given me these feelings, I would have never sat at the bar that night.
When I realized the need to be by your side grew day in and day out as you flourished in the hotel, I was taken aback. I had never experienced such emotions as this, and at first, I saw it as a weakness, but instead, you were my greatest strength. However, if I had known this would be the turn of events that happened, I would have never asked you to dance that night and confess my feelings.
I remember it like yesterday when you walked into the hotel. Not too long after my arrival and fight with Vaggie, you appeared chipper and eager to learn more about the princess of hell. However, you didn’t stay long, seeing as you had people you still had to protect. How foolish to safeguard people in hell. It was the most dangerous and deranged place to exist, and you had to protect people.
Days and weeks went by, and as we gained more notoriety, you kept coming back, helping in small ways. One particular day after I had battled with Vox, you came running in, smiling so wide, congratulating the hotel on the amazing victory. There was no real battle, just wits and quips between two old friends turned rivals, but you made it seem like I had slayed Lucifer himself. 
When I introduced myself to you after Charlie eagerly pulled me in, I couldn’t tell the feeling that I had in my chest. Your smile radiated heat from it onto my face, and I was astounded at how powerful you didn’t know you could be. With a bow at my waist and a kiss on your hand, I grew your smile even more, and the cutest color of red dusted your cheeks.
You left again that day, saying you had things to attend to but would be back soon. Soon—what a funny word people use to describe time. It could mean tomorrow or months from now. Yet you showed back up like clockwork the next day.
You made quick friends with the hotel staff, your permanent palace being made not too long after Pentious joined us. You found solace at the bar most nights, talking to Angel and Husk. How you enjoyed their conversions was beyond me, but your light laugh and gentle smile lit something in me. That’s when the day came that you had no one to sit with.
Taking this opportunity to explore this uncharted territory, I sat there with you and spoke to you truly for the first time ever. We talked about everything and nothing, the strangest of things occurring, and I felt like I could go hours without leaving your presence. Yet as your eyes drew closed from exhaustion, I couldn’t help the pride that washed over me that you chose to talk so long that you fell asleep with me.
I gently took you to your room, placed you in bed, and gave you a gentle kiss on the head. I was shocked. I had never done something so childish and unclean before, yet I felt the need to give you more. I was going insane with these feelings, which overran my mind. So, I sought solace in the best person I knew to help the situation. 
On my trip to Rosie’s, I heard a beautiful tune that reminded me of you, a sweet melodic vibe that sounded sweet to dance to, too. I let myself wonder how it would feel to dance by your side, swinging you through the night and getting lost in the songs that came from the radio. That was something that always amused me. You enjoyed the radio ever since I explained my distaste for TV. Could it be that you had the same strange feelings that I had?
At Rosie’s, I poured my heart and soul out to my dearest friend: “I don’t know what to think anymore. I am going crazy around them. Every time they smile or talk, I want to be there to bask in it. How could someone as strong and powerful as me succumb to someone so small and less than me? No, they aren’t less than me. They are everything to me, but that is what scares me.”
In that omission, I had Rosie laughing. She had never thought the day would come when someone would take my fancy. I listened to all her words about love and romance, things I had heard of but never experienced once in my life. Then she asked the dreaded question to solidify this ‘Love’ I had for you: “If your momma was around, would you take them to her?”
Yes, yes, I would have in a heartbeat. You would have made her so proud and happy if I had you on my arm. In that instant, I knew I needed you to be the other half I was always missing—someone who was on my level in mind, body, and soul. 
As I trekked back to the hotel, I bought a new crimson suit and matching outfit to ask you out tonight. The shadows took your gifts to your room with a note asking you to join me in the ballroom at 8 o’clock. I waited eagerly for your arrival, ready to face this path of uncertainty as long as you were by my side.
As you made your way over to me, I must confess I was tongue-tied. I had no idea what to say or do, so I let the music guide me. You seemed to not know how to dance, but after a few encouraging words and some leading by me, you were a natural. We danced the night away; it was perfect, and a simple, slow song started to play as the night ended. 
Holding you close to me, my hands around your waist as yours clung to my neck, I felt at peace. You were my peace, and that excited me and scared me all at once. Then I let it out on accident in the least romantic way possible: “I think I am in love with you.”
You laughed gently, that laugh that cured my ailments and healed my soul—the laugh that made hell worth living in again. Your simple reply, “I know.” was all I needed to hear, as a simple laugh also left my lips.
We were inseparable from then on. You were always there in my radio tower, cheering me on with a simple ‘I love you’ on your lips—something I grew so fond of so quickly. I knew you would conquer the world with me if given the chance, yet I also knew I wanted nothing more than to protect you until my own dying breath. Over time, even your dancing skills rivaled my own, and I was eager to take you to Mimzy’s club after all this execution business was handled. I wish I got to.
Then the dreaded day came, the day that would end my unbeaten heart and relinquish me back to a cold, miserable hell—the day of the execution at the hotel led by none other than Adam himself. I begged you, pleaded with you to leave the hotel and hide elsewhere, but you were so strong and spirited that you wanted to stay and fight. How could I say no when blood was my favorite color, too?
How I wish I told you to stay back harder. Because as the dust settled and the rubble cleared, there lay your lifeless, cold body, a sword through your chest. I had never transformed as fast and violently as I had that day. While everyone mourned you and Pentious, I was mourning just you, the love I had always told myself I never needed. 
I was so devastated, red clouding my vision. I had killed and eaten half of the districts in Pentagram City when the others finally calmed me down enough. Lucifer tried everything he could to bring you back, but it was too late; we all knew it was too late. They showed me your cleaned-up body, and I lost a small fragment of my identity.
I held you so close to me and cried, really, honestly, at the love I had lost. 
What I would give to tell you the things I wish I got to say……
To: My Lost Love
From: Your Radio Demon
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waxingrunes · 1 year ago
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I’m seeing too much of this across all channels and I need to write a little something on my humble blog with my humble amount of followers, because how else am I going to get this off my chest.
Some of you need to remember that this whole world we created is pure, fiction. It’s based off fiction and we are building off fiction, forking off in different directions with characters we love.
The canon vs fanon debate is ongoing and quite honestly, mind numbingly pointless and you all consistently contradict and overlap one another with whatever discourse you’re riding that week. You lot wanna argue a point by saying, “these are my hc’s and I can do what I like with them stop taking everything so seriously teeheehehehe” then uno reverse that the next minute by screaming, “that would never happen *insert name* is this or is that” but fuck canon right? Fuck JKR? Or is it more, fuck the parts of canon I don’t like and I’ll take the parts I do so I can shove them down the throats of creators who represent these characters in an opposing light. The amount of posts I’ve seen floating around these sites that are people preaching to their audiences about how dumb they are (unless it’s meant to be satire, I’m not a brainless sensitive lump with no humour bone) for liking certain things, or enjoying certain things, or preferring certain aspects in a character is astounding. Take pause before jumping on your high horse over a fictional character and shaming people for moulding them into what they enjoy. Is this not the beauty of fiction, imagination; the ability to twist and turn over different traits and appearances within our palms and make them into our own little dress up dolls?
Here’s my two cents as a WOLFSTAR artist, not a Marauders— if I want to make Sirius into a teacup and Remus into a sea slug and have him curl up to sleep every night in his bowl, then I’ll do that with fine china detail. If I want to make Sirius someone who refuses to wear nothing but a specific shade of tangerine and Velcro strapped trainers, I will. One day I might throw Moony into a boxing ring and have him be a middleweight champion, stained by the blood of his opponent whilst his wolf is chomping at the bit to come out just before the full moon threatens to take centre stage. If I want to make Sirius 6ft tall and Remus 5ft1, I will. Why not draw an AU of them as the rocks from Everything, Everywhere All At Once? Maybe, they can be something as simple as a boy and a boy who look the way you want them to look, fuck the way you want them to fuck and fall in love and fight, and scream, and cry, and make up a million different ways.
Let’s get more specific as the seal’s broken. Why not make Remus plus sized and give him a beard or a dad’s bod at age 23. Or maybe because he’s lighter haired he doesn’t have dark hair like that and only has a smattering of it across the ugliest of his scars. Consider this— moony with softer hips but fuller sturdy shoulders. Or long, slender limbs with a deceptively hidden strength owing to his wolf, stronger than James though he doesn’t look it. Onto Sirius, try to tell me I’m not going to put him in thigh highs and fem the shit out of him whilst he holds a bat in one hand covered in the blood of someone who tried to disrespect his Moons. Alert the press when someone erases every single one of his tattoos only to replace them with hyperpigmentation. What about giving him a beater’s build and a long thick trail of naval hair that he likes to call his ‘seeker’s delight’. What about a hairless Sirius who has a soft life and likes to make herself pretty for her 6ft 4 boyfriend every weekend when he gets on the train to visit.
How about, I stick with my personal holy take on the boys and present you with a harmless middle ground where Moony is whatever the fuck I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but always a wet fucking cloth for Sirius. A grape, under a thumb, you could say. And a Sirius, who is too whatever I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but will always be Moony’s biggest cheerleader.
Stay with me whilst I offer you the brain stretching, risky, taboo thought for you to ponder on: stop trying to please people. Stop absorbing all these takes that pressure you into thinking you’ve got to include every fucking thing that shaves you down and boxes you into their squeaky clean little creator! Indulge in what you like. Make it public, make it known and make it as loud as you want. Feels good on this side of freedom.
Lastly, quick (none of this has been quick) circle back to myself being a Wolfstar artist, not a Marauders one. I will not be shamed into drawing the women in this fandom, I will not try to even out my art with equal parts women and men, in fear of being called misogynistic. I came here for Wolfstar and I stay for them; I get 95% of my muse from them and enjoy drawing these idiots nearly every single day when I can. I’ve a busy life, a job, the luxury of a family that love me and a couple friends I’d like to keep too. If and when I draw, it’s going to be what I want to draw and want to indulge in, not to check off your boxes of inclusion. I am not going to defend my choice of indulgence to you. I am not going to refute women or wlw ships and in fact, eat up stories or art where they’re prominent. Will I have muse or will to do a piece on them? Probably not. If I do, I will and if it’s not done to a standard deemed appropriate enough by the council, well shit I hope I get an honourable mention in one of your hate threads on Twitter.
Grow up. I am the type of person who has a more or less rigid taste on these boys and what I, enjoy representing them like and you runts will run your throats hoarse before I turn an ear. I am not the type of person to see someone who doesn’t like what I prefer and start slamming my keyboard and slap them with a red card. I’ll move on but appreciate the take in silence. Some of you really, come across like you’re stomping your feet in a tantrum, some of you sound like you’ve never been told to shut the fuck up a day in your life and some of you, some of you, really think you’re a messiah.
Fuck your canons, fanons and righteous attitudes towards people who are quite literally, not real. You are not a deity of the Marauders, you are a fucking loser offline just like the rest of us.
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always-andromeda · 1 year ago
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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Edward Nashton x Fem!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 2447
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late + "You're a monster." + "That's never stopped you before."
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ this isn't an official return to writing Dano content! this is merely me getting in touch with my roots a little! because you can't give me unhinged prompts and then tell me not to get even a little bit inspired to write something for Edward lmao. p.s. yes I ever so slightly changed the dialogue prompt!! it just made more sense in the end!!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), descriptions of sex, Edward being his normal homicidal self <3, reader is kind of an asshole lmao, vague allusions to violence, and that's all I can think of! please let me know if I need to add more!
(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)
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Sometimes it astounded you just how far a set of sad eyes could fuel your romantic mind. You hesitated to admit that you were delusional, but the thought certainly lived in the back of your head. Anytime it traveled to the front you’d simply brush it back with the justification that everyone did this.
Everyone made up those little romances to lose themselves in. It gave you something to think about in the gaps between really living. In that narrow room of your head lived Edward Nashton. And god, was he really starting to take up even more real estate than you’d ever meant for him to.
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He wasn’t even your nicest coworker. Far from it actually, considering how stand-offish he was. At first you looked right over him, preferring the company of coworkers that didn’t make you feel like you were being looked down upon. Because whether he intended it or not, he radiated some sort of superiority. Though he rarely spoke, you simply caught the idea that he didn’t want to be part of anything going on.
Edward never attended company lunches, never went out for drinks after work, and mostly kept to himself during his lunch breaks. He seemed almost intent on isolating himself as much as possible. It didn’t occur to you that maybe it was wrong to quickly assign such malice to his disinterest until he chimed in on a break room conversation you were having with a coworker.
She’d been expressing excitement over the prospect of Bella Reál running for mayor against Mayor Mitchell. She’d scoffed, “It’s about time that bastard gets pushed out of office. We finally have a chance for some real change here.”
For as quiet as he was, you were surprised that Edward’s voice sounded so firm when he raised his head and spoke, “Realchange? What are the odds of that? She’s just another politician. And politicians...they’re nothing more than cardboard cutouts for whatever demographic they want to pander to. They can’t save everyone.“
Your coworker rolled her eyes, saying something about how cynicism won’t do anyone any good before decidedly pushing him out of the conversation entirely. And that gave you the clearest picture you’d had of him yet. Maybe it was less that he didn’t want to be a part of things and more that he didn’t know how to be a part of things.
The more you viewed him through that lens, the more he made sense. And the more it made your heart break for him. It wasn't pity. God no. Out of everyone you knew, Edward was surely the smartest and most capable. But that didn't make it any easier watching him look at the rest of the world with that twitchy, distrustful eye.
Maybe if you were a different person you would've said something. You would at least sit with him. But truth told, he intimidated you.
So, not wanting to risk shouldering any of his disdain, you watched him. And you built up an idea. An idea you were quite fond of.
You noticed that he drank his coffee black. Figured that he took everything else that way too. That he cut straight through the sugar and cream and gulped down the bitterness, grounds and all. All reason, no nonsense. You decided it would probably be hard to be with him. But that wouldn't make it any less gratifying.
Already you could imagine Edward and his walls and how you'd attempt to break through them. Maybe there was some sort of tragic past behind his disassociation. Maybe there was something in him that reflected a little bit of yourself. Maybe you could help him; make him happier. Or maybe he was just a plain old asshole and you'd only make each other worse. Either way, it made him compelling to deconstruct.
Especially when comparing him to the other men in your office. Many of them were loud, boastful, and – perhaps due to some deep seated insecurity – always trying to prove something. Edward, on the other hand, seemed to wear that insecurity on his sleeve with his stuttering replies and lingering glances towards his superiors. You bet he was secretly possessive. Not exactly swift to a fight, but definitely quick to prove that his power was effortless; he didn't need showmanship the way those other men did. 
Something about that made him inherently cool to you. As much as he may have been a nobody, a loser, and a nerd...he was also everything. Everything and nothing all at once and you couldn't get enough of it.
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If there was anyone in your office you guessed would ask you out, it certainly wasn't Edward. Edward, in your mind, didn't take those risks. And he certainly didn't care enough about you to see you as any different from the rest of his coworkers.
But somehow he managed to break your script the morning he confidently waltzed straight to your cubicle across the office and asked if you liked Italian food.
"Eh, I'm impartial," you replied sheepishly, not sure where the question was leading.
To your surprise, Edward gave a small nod, issuing his silent approval. "Good. Because there's a diner in town that I'd like to take you out to."
You had to blink quickly, wondering for a moment if you'd honest-to-god lost your mind and fallen too far into one of your daydreams.
"Huh?"
That's when Edward's own voice faltered slightly, "I-is that a yes? Or a no?" and finally it struck you that this was reality. 
"Yes!" you blurted your reply. "I'd love to go out with you."
Once you'd worked out the particulars of this assumed date, you could hardly hide your anticipation. You'd been nervous for dates before. But this was a new beast. You barely knew a thing about him and you hadn't so much as had a real conversation with him.
Why he'd asked you out in the first place, you had no idea. None of it made any sense but before you could question his intentions, you second guessed that gut feeling. Those rose tinted glasses fell over your gaze with ease at that point.
Maybe he was just as nervous as you were. Maybe this was his attempt at doing something bold. Maybe you were the asshole for assuming dubious intent. Maybe you just had to give him a chance. After all, he was giving you a chance. And suddenly you interest was piqued all over again.
On its own, the date was average. You hadn't expected a Michelin star meal, but as far as greasy diner food went, this one sat heavy in your stomach and Edward's untrained social skills didn't help.
He made conversation like he'd read a Wikihow article on it before picking you up. And while it was a lackluster feeling that spurred inside you when he was reciting those lines to you, it only made you want to deliberately break his script again. You knew he had it in him; you'd seen it before.
Ignoring every ounce of advice on social etiquette you'd ever learned, you asked him what he thought about the upcoming election. And that seemed to be just the ticket as he set his mug of black coffee down, a goofy grin scrawling out on his doughy face. Before you knew it, he launched into an uninterrupted tangent about the grim state of Gotham politics for the next few minutes.
It was simple enough nodding along and giving the occasional sympathetic hum. Even if you did feel the same about the broken system you lived in, it was a little disappointing realizing that he was like many of the men you'd dated. One that liked the sound of his own voice too much that you could barely get a word in edgewise.
But you think you liked the sound of his voice more when he said, "My apartment is nearby. Would you like to...come over?"
And you knew he liked yours when you agreed.
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Edward was a virgin, just like you expected. You tried not to show too much pride over your skillful deduction at the vulnerable admission. But you couldn't help the small rise in your tone when you replied, "Oh, you haven't...?"
Edward shook his head before hiding his face in your neck and groaning. And if you hadn't felt how unmistakably hard he was against your thigh, you might've felt bad for him. As wrong as it felt, you were ecstatic.
You couldn't believe your luck, getting to be this man's first. As meaningless as the concept of virginity was to you in theory...in this scenario...it inspired some very sentimental feelings. Feelings that even if he wasn't exactly everything you'd built him up to be, you'd still always have this imprint on him.
Repeatedly you reassured that you didn't find that fact embarrassing while suppressing the fact that more than anything, you wanted him. You'd dreamed about him for long enough that this felt like teasing. And it wasn't fun.
He fucked almost exactly the way you thought he would. Desperate. Disconnected. Animalistic. Like he was searching for something. Whether that be pleasure or perhaps a good old fashioned connection with someone, you didn't know. All you knew was that it made you giggle to think of your coworkers' looks of surprise when they found out that the Edward Nashton had managed to bring a girl home on the first date.
Even though he didn't make you come with penetration, it was fairly easy showing him how to use his fingers. Initially his touch was rough. As soon as you squealed and squirmed, he'd stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you with that sad, sorry stare. And despite the fact that he'd been the one to hurt you, he still managed to make you feel sorry for him.
But that didn't matter. Once you got him going, his focus on maintaining that light, even pressure as he circled your clit was unbreakable. You could tell that he was deriving pleasure from this too. That he liked staring deep into your eyes as they clouded over with mounting pleasure before blowing wide once you tipped over the edge. He chased the keening sounds of your arousal with an intensity that made the whole thing seem far more urgent than it actually was. 
You were in so deep that you hadn't noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks until you'd finished and Edward had set off for his bathroom to wet a towel for cleanup. Once his bedroom door closed, you felt comfortable enough to really lay back and let out the breath you'd been holding. Being around him made your nerves short circuit and as much as you hated to admit it, it shrouded your judgment.
Knowing close to nothing about him, you found yourself picking through the flashes you'd gotten when stumbling into his apartment. Between kisses, you remember hearing squeaks. Maybe it was mice? Rats? Judging by the crumbling state of his room, you were uncertain over whether he owned them or they'd simply...made their home among his. You hoped it was the former. Your imagination forced you to believe that.
Finally you sat up, looking around his room. Edward's discarded button up work shirt laid forgotten on the floor. You picked it up and pulled it on to regain some of your modesty as you began dissecting once more.
Once you started to get a good look at your surroundings, you felt that pit in your stomach. Or maybe it was the greasy diner food sitting uncomfortably in your stomach. But that justification seemed less likely when you noticed the mirror on his dresser was smashed out, the broken glass still sitting on the wood surface. Any idea of it being accidental disappeared when you spotted the cork board beside the dresser. Pinned to it were photos and articles marked dramatically with red ink.
The words FILTHY PIGS written in big letters over a picture accompanying an article that detailed a GCPD drug den bust. The world LIAR scrawled over an old image of Thomas Wayne, most likely from his campaign days. Then there were the most worrying ones. Photos of people you vaguely recognized that weren't defaced with words. You saw Mayor Mitchell, Bella Reál, Gotham's attorney general, and a few others all with one thing in common. Right in the middle of their foreheads were targets, painted in red that dripped down their faces like blood.
This wasn't just some sort of bizarre art project. The closer you looked at the smaller annotations scribbled into the margins, the more you realized that this was some sort of morbid obsession of his. And for the first time, he scared you.
His stares and his silence meant nothing compared to the pure terror this inspired in you.
The bedroom door creaked as Edward pushed it open. His grip on the wet washcloth in his hand tightened as he caught what you were looking at.
"You see the truth now, don't you?" he asked meekly with a distant look.
"What?"
His voice dripped with emotion, "The brokenness. The-the-the corruption. The suffering. You understand that they need to pay, don't you?" He now stared expectantly, gesturing to his board of horrors.
You spoke carefully and slowly, "I'm...not sure I understand why Bella Reál is up there. All she wants to do is help–"
A different kind of darkness shadowed his expression now. It was one that you couldn't find any sort of romance in. But there was intent. All you knew was that none of the pieces you'd found could ever put together a pretty image. There was no reframing, no romanticizing, and no disregarding this. This intent was one of violence. One that seemed to spread as much pain and poison that was trapped inside of him.
Suddenly his eagerness to take you out felt less like a once in a lifetime chance and more like a death sentence. No amount of deduction would've led you to daydream something this depraved. If you'd poured the milk and sugar into your perception of him, these were bitter coffee grounds at the bottom of the mug. And you were doomed to swallow it up until the last drop.
Edward inched closer, his tone turning almost manic, “No one can save us. Not even the Batman. He can’t save us the way we need to be saved. But I can. I can do the thing that no one is bold enough to do."
“You’re a monster,” your voice quivered.
Edward chuckled. “As if that stopped you before.”
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