#this was stuck in my drafts all day while i thought of shows then had to short list them ;^
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Tag game:
List eight shows for your followers to get to know you better.
Thank you very much for the tag @lithiumseven <3
Doctor who
Dirk Gently's holistic detective agency
Ghosts
The goes wrong show
Torchwood
3%
Young royals
Young dracula
Tags: @bubbues @zanoc @flowergrenades @quillandrapier @bluebox-girl and as always anyone who wants a go <3
#i might have a preference for british media#notable mentions were his dark materials#as well as it crowd and the haunting of hill house#feelin a lil foxxii#you get your tag twice#this was stuck in my drafts all day while i thought of shows then had to short list them ;^#tag game#a rare time when i talk about myself#also i couldn't bare to order them#but ik dirk gently would be top#as that show explains a lot about me#ive loved it from the books to the shit bbc one and finally a great netflix show that THEY CANCELLED
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Disability in fiction
This was a tough post to write.
I saw a post about disability rep, and I kept thinking about it, and wanted to share my own takes on the topic.
I thought about it for days, trying to figure out how to word it. Then after drafting it, I stuck it in a file for a couple of weeks, trying to decide if I could even post it. This is not a topic that can be boiled down to a simple yes/no kind of answer.
Let’s start with two examples.
1 - I have a short story I started writing (it wants to grow up to be longer, so it’s waiting for time) where my original concept was to write about an older woman who is short and has major chronic pain, and I wanted to dig into fantasy reasons why this pain exists, but at the same time, have her be able to kick ass despite being exhausted and dealing with excruciatingly painful issues.
2 - I once drafted a portal fantasy storyline wherein a young man was transported into a fantasy world, and when he was given a horse to ride, he approached it very warily. He was encouraged to mount, did so, and sat there and exclaimed in shock, “My brain isn’t exploding with snot!” because his allergies hadn’t come with him into the body he had in the fantasy world.
Both stories were designed to be fun, a bit light, maybe even cozy.
So.
In one case, the disabled character remains disabled and kicks ass anyway. And in the other case, the character is magically “healed” and no longer has debilitating allergies that had wrecked his way of life.
This is the difficult part to express: I think both storylines are valid.
Bear with me while I dig into this.
First and foremost: I completely agree that we need more representation in all forms of fiction, especially when it comes to disabled people being able to live their lives. Characters with missing limbs, or non-neurotypical brains, or anxiety & depression, or hearing issues, or sight problems, or chronic pain, or… or… you get the idea. We need all of it, and we need it to not need to be magically healed in order for a story to be considered happy and cozy. Disabled people can be happy, too.
I’m all in for this, and I wouldn’t write the stories I do if I weren’t.
However, there are also moments where I am so exhausted by my body and by everything I deal with inside of it where I do wish for that magical ability to forget that my pain exists. Or for the ability to actually process information in a straight line, or make decisions without writing a hundred lists and accomplishing nothing from them. Or to be able to lie down in a field of grass without regretting it for days while I drip snot and fight sinus-pain-induced migraines.
Sometimes I want to imagine that my life is different.
And that is one of the joys of writing. I can choose to write a story where people like me or the people I know are the heroes/heroines exactly as they are, different abilities and all. Or I can choose to write a story where the problems magically resolve.
Both can be cozy, sweet, and adorable. I can give the character with chronic pain the ability to kick ass, take names, and have a sweet reunion with her ex-girlfriend. I can show all the ways that my disabilities may define how I handle my life differently than someone else, but do not define what I can and cannot do.
But I can also daydream about a life where it’s different, the same way I can daydream about having wings, or being able to teleport. For me, imagining a day with no pain is the same as a day where I can walk through walls. It is absolutely a fantasy, and about as likely to happen.
Here’s the thing: It’s okay to be angry to see what looks like disability being erased. It’s okay to wonder why the author did that, why they magically healed someone instead of letting them be who they were. But at the same time, maybe ask why, and what point of view it’s coming from. Or look a little deeper into the story and how the resolution occurs, and the effect it does have on the character (I suspect that were I to suddenly have a day of no pain, I’d be intensely reckless, given what an idiot I am while IN pain, y’know? And WOW would I regret that later…).
And for authors, think about what you’re writing. WHY is this particular event (keeping disability, erasing it, whichever or both) happening, because the reader will take note of it. They may see things that weren’t intended, but are there as unintentional biases.
Make conscious decisions for why things happen.
Someday I want to get back to both of those examples from the start of this post; I still like both concepts. But I’ll be writing them for very different reasons, and both will be healing my soul in different ways. Different kinds of daydreams. And again, I think that’s valid, too.
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This has been in my drafts for a while.
The Slip Up
Alastor & Child Reader
Warnings? ⚠
⚠ food mention, cussing, terrible cooking decisions, moving dolls, sharing childhood trauma, mentions of murder ⚠
You were sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Angel try to make something called zuppa.
But it was turning out like a pile of brown goop.
"Fucking damn it!", the spider demon cussed as he tried to get the wooden spoon out of the food. "What the hell!? I followed the damn recipe!"
Taking a peek at the cook book, you saw what the food was supposed to look like and the instructions of how to make it. So far, Angel did everything, but in the wrong order.
"I think you jumped a few times..", you mumbled.
"Huh?", the fluffy demon responded but did not look back at the book.
"Do we have tomatoes?", you wondered out loud.
Then you see Alastor step out of the shadows and he makes his way over to look at the cook book.
"Creamy Tomato soup?", he reads.
"Oh, I couldn't find the tomatoes so I used ketchup."
You heard the static grow louder from the deer demon.
While the Radio Demon approaches the spider, he grabs slices of bread and finds brown slop instead of soup.
"Angel..", his smile is strained. "What is this?"
"Zuppa!"
With a quick maneuver, the demon in red gets the cook book and shows the fluffy white demon the image of what the soup should look like.
"Why is it brown? It should be orange.", then he points at the ingredients. "We have all of these ingredients! Why are you using ketchup!?"
"Like I told the little one, couldn't find them.", the spider says and tries to stir the spoon in the pot but it's still stuck.
Having enough, the Radio Demon tells the film star to eat the "soup."
Angel, not understanding what was wrong, eats the goop and then starts to cough.
"Oh shit!", he coughed again. "Ketchup was not the answer."
With a slap of bread on each side of the spider's face, Alastor asks a question. "What are you?", with a smile unnaturally wide due to annoyance.
"I'm -"
"You're an idiot sandwich.", he said.
You saw his antlers grow really big before it went back to normal.
"Now, tell me what you are?"
"An idiot sandwich.." Angel mumbles sadly, not even looking up to meet the Radio Demon's gaze.
"Haha! Papa called you an idiot!", you laughed but stopped after realizing just what you had said.
....
The two tall demons were quiet as they stared at you surprised.
Slowly, you got down from the counter, not breaking eye contact as you did so and then once your feet touched the floor, you quickly ran out of the kitchen.
.
Alastor was shocked.
Did they just call me Papa?
"Al?"
He's never heard that before.
Do they really see me in such a light?
"Hello?"
I did pick them up and cared for them.
"Oy."
Gave them food, shelter, and toys.. They gave me that card on Father's Day. I suppose I am like a father figure.
"Smiles!"
Snapping out of thought, the deer demon released the spider and tossed the bread before making his way to the door.
"Ah, yes.", he said and looked back at the film star. "Follow the recipe by the book or I'll do worse than that silly humiliation."
Alastor left before the arachnid could reply. He had something else to do and that was to check on his little terror.
Entering his hotel room, he looks around the space and tries to see if he can spot them.
"Little one?", he called out.
As he was searching for the little demon, he wondered why they ran away.
Perhaps they were scared? I don't understand though, I would never lay a hand on them... Maybe their actual father didn't like them and forbade them from calling him as such.
"My little nightmare, I'm not angry. Please come out and talk to me?"
But everything was still and silent.
Turning to the sliding door, he knocked before opening it, finding the stuffed animals that were on the bed. Staring at him.
Ah, yes. Their impenetrable army of stuffed animals.
"I'll-". he began but as soon as he took another step, the stuffed animals heads snapped up to meet his eyes. "...stay at the door."
"To be honest, it took me by surprise when you called me..Papa. And I can understand your fear of my reaction.", he sighed. "I was barely able to call my father, the loathsome scum, such a title."
"He'd yell at me sometimes..", they spoke up from somewhere in the room. "But that was when he had his smelly juice and when he was really mad."
Looking around the room, the radio demon noticed that the rug was kicked up a bit near the bed and knelt down. Taking a look under the bed, he found their hiding place.
"Why was he always mad?", they whispered to themselves.
"A question I've always asked as well.", Alastor said as he extended a hand out to the little demon.
They reached out slowly and took his hand.
"There we go.", he gently got them out from under the bed and held them as he stood up. "You can keep calling me Papa, I don't mind it."
"Really?", they asked with a hopeful look in their eyes.
"Yes, I'm more than alright with it.", he said and gave them a reassuring pat on the head.
They smiled and wrapped their arms around his neck, giving him a hug.
.
You were waiting for Alastor to pick you up from school. Standing by the gate with Ms. Mayberry, who surprisingly stopped smoking whenever you were around.
Somewhat bored, you looked around the school yard and saw some of the other kids waiting, having fun bullying each other. You grinned when they avoided eye contact with you. Mostly because you killed more annoying kids on the bus.
"Mon petite!"
Looking up, there stood your adoptive parent.
"Papa!", you cheered, running over to the tall red dressed demon.
He took your hand and both of you headed back to the hotel.
"Tell me, how was your day?"
"I decapitated someone on the bus today!"
I couldn't get the image of Alastor calling Angel an idiot sandwich out of my head. I'm not sorry.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches (More in the comments.)
ML II Alastor🎙️
#child reader#alastor and child reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#platonic#x reader#gn reader#fanfic#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#demon child reader#mention of murder#mention of death#✨childhood trauma✨#mention of a parent with anger issues#alastor & reader#alastor & child reader
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Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Fem! Reader/ .11 [Slight Nsfw]
warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, ec project with Nickolas the transfer student, drunk sukuna shows up at the dorm(!?), a small makeout session, some sexual touching and mentions of grinding/humping at readers thighs, caring for this stressed out man-slut, ooc sukuna.
reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.
plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..
words: 5.036k
fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20
a/n: hey guys! sorry for the delay ^^ i've been wanting to get some chapters drafted before posting them! ty sm for the patience i hope u enjoy and r ready for the upcoming drama between sukuna and y/n!
a/n 2: so so sooooo sorry for being three days later after saying i'd be posting right away!!>< I was with family and the wifi was being iffy the last few days. I couldn't access many of my socials and much less work on the final draft of the chapter!! i powered thro until i was satified and it's finally here! i hope you enjoy!!
chapter/idea cred to: @misslauravillanueva i needed to give credit for the help! i was struggling on what to do!><
. . .
Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!
“Achoo!”
“Ah, are you alright?” Geto’s cool tone echoed from the kitchen, his brow raised with a curious expression written on his face. “Coming down with something? I told you to relax from studying for a while–”
“It’s not that!” You huff, cheeks burning with embarrassment. ”I just sneezed. I don’t know why though..”
“Okay, relax. I’m not gonna get upset.”
With a pout, you leaned against the armrest of the couch. Bowl of mac and cheese with little hot dogs in hand and a Coke on the coffee table. Eyes returning back to the TV screen and watching the current crime show playing, listening to the crimes that the murderer committed as he was handed a death sentence.
Sometimes, when I let my mind wander to Sukuna.. It feels like that.
The idea that he’s now stuck on your mind despite all the anger he had towards you. The almost strange obsession and addiction to the idea of him. While you’ve been repetitively trying to control these new emotions and thoughts, you couldn’t help it. Seeing Sukuna that day in Ec class all those days ago. Having to tutor him. Even dealing with his weird smirks and teasing.
..That kiss too..
“Your face is doing that thing again, Y/n,” Geto’s voice chirped out of nowhere, causing you to jolt in your spot. “So jumpy over a guy? You know therapy exists, right?”
Returning a rather poorly chosen burn, Geto stood from his spot on the couch and waved a hand at you. Grabbing his things and his shoes from the carpet near the door, he sent you another telling look.
“If you're this upset, just ask what's up. Seriously, seeing you get stressed over this is kinda.. sad.”
There was a stabbing pain in your chest. You knew.
“Good night to you too, Suguru,” You hum, leaning on your fist as the door closed with a click. Leaving you alone in the dormitory for a few moments.
Your thoughts clouding your headspace until you decided to go to bed. Unable to understand this dreadful lil thing people called love, unable to understand why Sukuna Ryomen had crawled his way into your heart just by being an ass.
Tomorrow is another day.. Right?
. . .
“Today we'll be picking partners for class projects!”
Eh?? Ehhhhh????
You blinked a few times at the announcement, looking down towards Toji as students began to groan and complain a little. Quickly these were silenced as Toji lifted a stack of papers and chuckled deeply in his husky voice.
“It's not my problem, just get them done. You have two weeks to do it, so get your partners. The class is uneven so be ready for one of y'all's groups to have an extra person. It's a self-pick topic type of thing so start discussing today or tomorrow your topic and go with it!”
Toji tapped the papers on his desk and sat, letting his tie loose as he started relaxing for the rest of the period.
“If you need suggestions for your topic, there's a list in here along with your presentation requirements. I expect all names and correct citations with these as well.”
You let out a small groan and rub your temple. Not only were you stressed, now you had to deal with this? Extra shifts at work couldn't save you from this type of annoyance. It's not that you hated group projects, it's just a small tick when half of them throw the work onto you.
Pros and cons. Pros– none. Cons– work was usually tossed onto you.
You stood from your desk and began making your way down the steps to grab a paper. A strange chill ran up your spine as you passed Sukuna’s. Sparing a glance over, your cheeks warmed almost immediately.
Some bits of hair were pinned back and a pen rested on an ear. His shirt had a few buttons undone with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black pants tight enough to have made a bakery spawn on the seat he sat upon. He looked really handsome, daring to battle even Toji’s good looks, and it was getting to you.
What hit the nail in the coffin is when he just so happened to catch you ogling with your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. His eyes sharpened at your expression as a smirk curled at the corners of his lips.
An almost playful yet teasing smile you weren't used to seeing on his face caught you off guard. It made your face hot, and your shame grow a few beats in that moment.
“Stop creeping” was basically what his face was saying.
Letting out a strained cough, you covered your face and made your way back up to your desk. Positive that his eyes had followed you all the way up the stairs before you sat in your spot. Hiding behind the paper and some random book you grabbed from your bag.
You couldn't be more obvious, could you?
While fellow students started to shift in their seats and partner up with friends and just random buddies from in the room, Sukuna was swarmed with a small audience of girls as he stood from his seat to also fetch a paper. The guys that sat around him gave him annoyed side-eyes and snorts as he absorbed the attention from all the women in the room.
“Sukuna, do you wanna partner with me?” One asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and letting the blush on her cheeks show.
“Me too, we could all do it together!” Another spoke up, poking her button nose into their conversation. Her bright green eyes staring up at Sukuna with a needy gleam.
It makes you confused to an extent, making you press your brows together as you look to the side. Sukuna probably thought that's what you looked like every time you saw him. It makes your heart ache and head throb, another grand headache to your already upsetting day.
Just let your mind be normal for once in your life.
You begin to gather your things and part from the room, the hustle and bustle of the classroom quietly fading into the background. Letting out a relaxed sigh as the sight of your bed creeped into the corners of your mind– oh, how you wished to be relaxing in bed with your favorite stuffy.
“Hello, miss? Would you like to be my partner for the project?” A voice suddenly called from behind you, somewhat echoing throughout the quiet hallways. It startled you since you didn’t expect anyone to follow you out of the classroom asking such a thing, it piqued your interest.
Lifting your head, you come face to face with someone you didn’t know.
His dark hair was up in a bun with his undercut showing behind his pierced ears, a kind smile flashing behind yet another piercing on his lip. Tanned skin that seemed to glow like it was pampered with the best beauty products around, not a scar or pimple in sight. Cute dimples at the corners of his lips adding to his boyish charm while his honey eyes gleamed at you. It reminded you of Yuji in a sense, but this was not Yuji.
You’ve never seen this guy before– a really cute one at that.
“Hello,” you say, momentarily stunned at the stranger, letting your hand weakly wave. “Uhm, partner?”
There was an adorable chuckle that furthered your stunned silence before you heard a response. “Yes, I saw you walk out here alone and thought you might need one.”
You take in a deep breath, regaining your composure quickly and patting yourself down. “Ah, right. I actually don’t like having a partner, my past experiences have led me to conclude that they’re not the best option for a project. Besides, I’m a big girl, I can handle one on my own.”
“I can see why,” He starts, looking back at the classroom with the still clamoring students before returning his attention to you. “That horde in there was after one guy, they don’t care about this project. I was actually about to do the same as you when I saw my choices were so low.”
Rubbing a big calloused hand over his nape, the strangers’ almond eyes looked from the empty halls and to you, his smile sheepish. “Please? Don’t make me beg now.”
There was a small silence between you and the stranger as you considered walking off and letting him go with his original plan before the Economics class erupted with whines as Sukuna and a girl walked from inside. The color left your cheeks, seeing the girl’s arm wrapped tightly around Sukuna’s. Looking as if he was protecting her from the growing crowd of the class, engaging in an active conversation as they walked on by.
Your heart sank sharply, seeing Sukuna letting someone else into his circle. He used to be so cold, so annoyed with people when he was younger. Only letting you really hold him that close, giving you nuzzles of appreciation since he didn’t like to say it aloud.
Now, he gives you the cold shoulder and holds others that aren’t you close.
Without letting your head finish its last thought and your eyes still trained on the back of Sukuna’s head, you gave a nod and looked back at the stranger. “Sure. I’m Y/n L/n, by the way.”
“Really? That’s great!” He smiled, the warmth of his company lightening your mood sufficiently more than it was a few moments ago. “My name’s Nickolas Alveres, it’s nice to meet you, L/n.”
The both of you share a smile for a second before Nickolas nods down the hall, motioning for the both of you to head to your next classes. He doesn’t wait for you to join him, but you do anyway. Trying to make small talk with him as you try to get to know your partner, letting the smile on your lips stick.
While you wore a smile, someone else had a frown. A deep scowl, if you will. You didn’t feel it, but Sukuna’s partner saw it.
She raised a brow, cheeks tinted a slight color as she cast her gaze in the same direction. Seeing you close to another man, only escalating the befuddlement.
“What’s wrong, Sukuna?”
A disgruntled look was plastered all over said man’s face, his frown so prominent it was a waste of time to even attempt to hide it. A chasm of wrinkles forming on his forehead as his brows pressed together at the sight before him. Watching the way you and some kid walked side by side with a smile on your face, not a care in the world.
When did you get so chummy?
“It’s nothing.. Let’s go, Haru,” He said, not sparing a second to look back at you. With a huff, he pulled his work partner, Haru, with him to the nearby library to find a good subject for this project.
It’s what he wanted anyways.. right?
. . .
“Wait, wait.. He punched Gojo in the face?!” Nickolas laughed, holding his cup up to his lips quickly to cover his giggles and chuckles. His nose crinkled up as they continued despite his obvious resistance. “He must’ve been drunk too to get so defensive!! I thought he was just a jerk most of the time.”
“Usually he is,” You start, crossing your legs under the coffee table. Looking over some of the notebooks the both of you had sprawled out onto the wood to look for any good topics to talk about in the presentation. Quickly, you scribbled out one, taking a sip from your cup and looking back up to Nickolas. “Recently though, he’s been alright. Not as mean as he used to be, but not one-hundred percent rude and annoying.”
A calm silence filled the air as Nickolas rested his work in his lap, taking a moment to look from them to you. “Speaking of, how long have you known this guy? You talk about him like he’s an old friend.”
The corner of your lips twitch upwards for a short second before you let your face relax. “He was. Not really interested in joining forces again recently.”
Nickolas nodded his head in understanding, eyes glazing over somewhat on what response to give. Seeing that the idea of this guy somehow hurt you, it got him concerned. Why bother letting him get to you so deeply if this is the result? It doesn’t make sense.
“Don’t let it get to you too much, Y/n,” He mustered after a short silence, placing his cup on the coffee table and letting his ring tap against the plastic. “If he’s still letting you be this close, even helping you care for a friend, that’s gotta be something.”
You nod numbly, knowing the obvious has been said too many times. Talk to him, ask him how he’s doing about the relationship, what does he want from you? The same three things that you always wanted to say when you were with him, but how. Other than tutoring, other than being near each other in class, you and Sukuna spent little to no time together.
All you remember about him is that he was the tough kid in school with home problems that liked to play tag and hide and seek. That he scared you with bugs and frogs while at the lake or near the Willow tree. The fond memories you shared with him couldn’t be the only factor that you had to use to judge what you wanted, you had to be around him more.
How was going to be the hardest puzzle to solve.
“Oh well,” Nickolas yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “It’s about time i get headed to my dorm. I have an early class tomorrow. I’ll leave you my number so that we can plan meetings for the project!”
Jokes and laughter filled the room as you and your partner exchanged information when there was a loud commotion at the door. You glanced from Nickolas to the dorm door and let out a light hearted chuckle, waving your hands next to your head.
“Ah, I’ll go get that! Gather your things, okay?”
Nickolas nodded and turned to his open binder and mess of notebook paper splayed on the coffee table, humming to himself as you rushed over to the front door. Hair stood at attention when you opened that door, seeing a messed up man laying on the hallway floor. A big wine bottle squeezed tightly in his right hand, the other placed next to his head on the floor.
His voice came out in gentle hums of some random rock song, lyrics jumping out from his mouth every second or so in a drunken daze. His fluffy hair was messy and almost unrecognizable until you realized who it was.
It was Sukuna.
“Wh.. What are you doing here?” You shout, shocked at his arrival, but there was not really a response. Only his hand raising to wave his finger around to the hum of his song. “Sukuna, answer me!!”
“..rather be.. Than lonely..”
Letting out a sigh, you look back at Nickolas and see his confused face staring at the gap between you and the door down at Sukuna. He stood there ready to go with his bag strap on his shoulder and keys in hand, giving you quick glances for some semblance of an answer. You give a small shrug, looking back to the immobile man on the ground.
Gently, you kick at one of his legs to try and get something out of him. “Sukuna, get up!”
Not a single thing, just a grunt and a tussle before your eyes finally connect with glazed ones. Maroon pools that were foggy beyond belief, not having a thought behind them. Nickolas tilts his head to the side and shakes it, giving you a pat on the arm and a sheepish smile.
“I'll get out of your hair, Y/n. Good luck!”
You step out of the man’s way, looking down at the disgruntled Sukuna and give a weak chuckle. Parting ways with Nickolas for the evening and kneeling down to Sukuna and shaking his shoulder. “Sukuna, you’ll get sick, get up.”
“..Doesn’t matter,” Sukuna mumbled, closing his eyes and taking a sip of his drink. “F’m sick, I’ll just be sick..”
“It does matter, now get up.”
You did your best to pull Sukuna up by his arm and into a sitting position, hooking the limp appendage over your shoulder and lifting him up onto his feet. It was a struggle since Sukuna was so heavy, but you managed. The stench of alcohol reeked from his breath and shirt, mixes of dirt and some stains that you didn’t feel the need to ask where they came from.
Stumbling into your dormitory you freed the near empty beer bottle from Sukuna’s grasp and pulled the door close. He wasn’t giving much fight– probably due to the amount he drank– and just leaned his weight onto you. Mumbling to himself about things you weren’t going to pressure him into answering. Still, it made you wonder.
What the hell drove him to come to my place?
Surely, he wouldn’t mind answering that.
With a huff to your lips you plopped Sukuna’s heavy ass onto the couch and folded your arms. The beer bottle in your hand swirling around as you rotate your wrist ever so slightly, brow raising at Sukuna’s nearly asleep form. It was odd to see the big, strong and mean Sukuna Ryomen on his last leg from intoxication.
Despite this, you found it cute.
“I’ll go get you some water and maybe a change of clothes,” You announce, tilting your head to see if that gauges a reaction. Sadly there was nothing but a huff and some finger taps on the couch’s cushions. Letting your arms fall to your side, you grunt and place the beer on the table. “Whatever, I’ll be right back.”
You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and some extra sheets from your bedroom before making your way back into the living room to Sukuna. A fresh set of clothing was provided, thanks to Geto’s many late night bang sessions with Shoko, and some cooling pads were placed next to Sukuna on the couch. He didn’t do much but glance at the items, turning his face away in– what you assumed– was a quiet protest.
Sukuna never acted this petty and spoiled before. What’s gotten into him?
“Let’s get you changed, yeah?” Gently, you press your hands to his chest, earning a reaffirming nod and proceeding to undo the buttons of his collared shirt.
It was strange to be in this position. On your knees, undressing the man you’ve pinned for for so long, only to be seeing this messy and unkempt side you didn’t like to imagine him being. The feelings in your chest that you wanted to put away were making your heart race once more, every glance you got to see from the mess you called Sukuna.
His hair made him resemble his brother more than anything else now, hanging over his sweaty forehead and tattoo. Arms hanging loosely at his sides, man spreading for all of the world to see. Shamefully, you enjoyed the calm attention. Even though it was unsightly, you liked getting to touch all over Sukuna’s body.
“There,” You mumble to yourself, having officially released Sukuna from his shirt. “N-Now, onto your..”
Trailing off, you look down at Sukuna’s pants. Swallowing thickly at the idea of pulling off his trousers, you took a deep breath. I’m never going to live this shame down!
Gently, you began to undo his belt. You face burning ever more as the air began to tense, wishing that anyone but you would be this bashful over something so silly. Still, regret hit you harder than the embarrassment or shame ever could.
Sukuna was watching you. Watching your hands slip the belt loose, pulling his button undone and pulling at his waistband. You tugged, unable to yank them down and free his lower half.
“Sukuna.. Can you lift your hips?” You ask in a soft voice, startled by the quick response. But what was it really, he was watching your every move. You felt like you were being examined in some office and not helping Sukuna undress. “Thank you.”
“Mm.”
Making haste of the situation, you pulled down the fabric of his trousers and grabbed the loose shorts you had found from earlier. Ignoring all thoughts of Sukuna and how perfect his legs looked, the thick black bands of his tattoos on the fat of his thigh. The way the bulge in his briefs was much a cause for distraction, even denying that it twitched once freed from it’s confines.
Yep, never happened.
“There, all better,” You sigh, satisfied. “Now that your ready for bed, I’m going to do the same.”
It took a few minutes, but you had completely reclothed Sukuna and he now looked more sleepy and ready for bed rather than drunk off his ass and about to black out on the couch. You had struggled to even get him to take a sip of water and sober up, but to no avail. You figured you’d have to try again tomorrow morning and explain the situation once he woke up in a confused fit.
Getting him comfortable on the couch too was another ordeal you didn’t think you’d go through, but you did. Tucking in the large male until he was all cozy and warm, safely resting his head on one of your spare pillows.
“I’ll see ya in the morning, Ryo,” You mumble, letting your mind wander for a moment and tracing the outline of one of his tattoos on his bicep. Feeling the muscle twitch under your touch momentarily.
“Mgh,” Sukuna muffled out, cheeks warm to the touch.
Letting out another sigh, you stand from your spot next to the couch. Only to be pulled back towards the culprit at hand, falling ass first next to his lap. Sukuna didn’t make a sound, just grasped onto your hips and pulled you in for a hug. His arms anchored around your lower stomach, pressing into the arch of your spine and forcing you to press against him as well.
His nose was pressed into the crook of your shoulder, but you continued to crusade for answers from the sudden affection. “AGH! Sukuna, that was highly uncalled for!! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Answer me, dammit–!!”
“Who was that guy?”
You flinch, caught off guard. The clarity and conviction in Sukuna’s voice was strange, seeing as he had been stumbling and leaning into you for the last few moments. “Uhm, my Economics partner Nickolas. It shouldn’t matter, you need to sleep!”
“I don’t need sleep,” Sukuna grunts out, lifting himself off of the couch and trapping you underneath him. Using his big arms like a cage, eyes locking you in place with a vice on your heart. “What was he doin’ hanging here?”
“Sukuna, this is childish,” You start, ready to defend yourself for a confrontation. “He’s my class partner, you shouldn’t be upset over it.”
Wait.. why was he upset?
Previously, he had never seemed to give a flying fuck what you did or whom you did it with. What’s with the sudden change of heart? It made yours ache at the possibilities, wondering what could it be that made him so hostile all of the sudden over Nickolas.
“I barely know him anyways..”
“And you let him sit here on this couch?”
There was a small slap sound as skin met skin, Sukuna’s palm and fingers grasping your chin and cheeks. A gentle but firm squeeze sent shivers down your spine, your hand reaching up to try and pull Sukuna’s off but to no avail. His eyes scanned your face for anything, a sign.
Something. Anything that would make this ache in his chest stop.
“What is he to you, huh?” His voice came out rough, deep. Intimidating.
It was scary, but a shudder was sent up your spine. A lustful and unneeded shudder, one that sent ideas to your brain. That made your mind wander, but you held them back.
Even as Sukuna’s lips captured yours, as his teeth grazed and nibbled at your lower lip, your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his pink locks. You had to deny, because the Sukuna that was here wasn’t really him. It was a drunk and dissociated version of him, a side that you normally didn’t see.
A side that he probably didn’t like showing.
“Did you let him do this, mh?” Sukuna muttered, pulling away from your mouth. A string of saliva connecting the both of you for a moment as your lungs fought for breath. Chest rising and falling heavily, your hands hold onto Sukuna’s arms, trying to find something to stabilize yourself in this mess of kisses.
“N-No, we just.. Talked about class–”
“Talked? About class? Me? You?”
Sukuna retreated his touch from your face and instead placed them on your thighs. Laying beside you on the couch, keeping you trapped against his chest and making sure to dress the blankets over you.
“Sukuna, seriously, this isn’t funny anymore,” You whimper, covering your face. How could you push this away? You’ve wanted nothing but to be closer to him, haven’t you?
Desired, pleaded. You wanted everything.. But this wasn’t the way.
Feeling Sukuna’s hands wrap around your waist, having his hot breath on your neck and shoulder as he rutted his hips against the fat of your ass. You felt utterly guilty, like trash. Wanting to crawl away from Sukuna and save him the little grace he had, to avoid giving him something to wake up and regret tomorrow.
“Y/n.. look at me.. Look at what you’ve done,” The man in question ordered, hooking your top leg over his elbow. Letting the bulge in his pants grow more and more, his voice becoming ragged and deep as he got harder and harder. “You’re making a mess of me, can’t you tell?”
You nod, wanting to pull away and sleep in your bed. But the desires in you only wanted you to fall deeper. The strings of your heart being plucked as Sukuna’s lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. Marking and sucking, lewd sucking sounds erupting from his lips as he made harsh hickeys form on the skin.
Mewl after moan escaped you, your pussy wet and slick under the confines of your panties and pajama bottoms. Sukuna could tell, releasing your leg from his hold and slowing his hips for a moment until his hand migrated to your front.
Grinding the flat surface of his palm against your clothed cunt, whispering naughty words into your ear that you had to drown out. Even if the wants in your belly wished for Sukuna to be there, to fill up your insides and make a mess. To be closer than he’s ever let you been for the last month or so, you had to stop this.
And you did, with much regret.
“Sukuna, stop,” You whimper, pulling Sukuna’s hand away from your body. Breaths coming out in baited huffs, you sat up. Not taking a moment to let yourself get lured back in, feeling Sukuna’s hand find your waist again as you resisted further.
“Stop what?” He mutters, annoyance in his voice. Laced with an emotion you wished to unhear. “Didn’t you want this too?”
“Not like this.” Cold, respectful. You had to be this way, to give Sukuna another chance. Letting him have his way now in such a drunken state, you wouldn’t be able to recover a good relationship. “If I was like anyone else, you’d be taken advantage of.”
Sukuna’s touch softened, his glazed eyes clearing for a moment as he looked at the back of your head. Seeing a shimmer of something on your cheek, his fingers trembled. He desired to reach up, to brush those tears away. It was against his very nature, his very being.
He didn’t like the idea of being all cuddly and cozy, being soft and vulnerable with someone. The idea of it made his stomach churn and made the urge to vomit impending.
But, with you. Seeing those tears form, for his sake. He felt irritated with himself. He caused it. Him.
“I’m going to bed now,” You say, voice shaken up. “Get some water, sleep.”
You stood from your place on the sofa and walked over to the small hallway, entering your bedroom and letting out a shuddering exhale. A weight was now firmly sitting on your chest. It ached, it hurt, it burned.
Everything that pain felt like was exploding in your chest. Reaching up a hand to try and comfort yourself wasn’t worth the effort either as you slid down the wood of your bedroom door. Curling into a feeble position as the tears fell from your eyes, finally free after holding them the whole time.
What you wished you could do about the man on your couch.
. . .
a/n: y'all i literally have a crippling addiction to crime videos and all that shit it's just so interesting for no reason oml (crying inside) also sorry for the month long pause (i say sorry too much) i was creating new characters and working on ideas for the next few chapters!
Chapter Song Them: — Granite - Sleep Token (Lyrics)
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Prose (part 2)
In which not many students attend Harry's office hours, and y/n's kind of burnt out.
+++
“What’s that drink you’re always drinking?” Harry asks, sitting across from y/n in his office.
She’s the only student to show up to his office hours this week (again), and had come to ask about the first essay that’s due next week. While she types on her computer, writing down all the notes that Harry just gave her on her first draft, Harry finds himself staring at the iced drink sitting next to her laptop.
“Oh, it’s just an iced chai. I’ve been getting two pumps of pumpkin spice syrup in it recently though, since Starbucks has their fall flavors now.”
“Hm. I’ve never tried the fall drinks.” He twirls his red pen between his fingers, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “M’always too scared to try new drinks, y’know? Like what if I don’t like it? Then I’d have wasted five bucks and I wouldn’t even have a coffee to get me through my day.” He pouts to himself at the thought of it, and y/n finds it terribly endearing.
She’s happy to know that Harry is seemingly very comfortable in her presence, prattling on and on about the simplest of things – like coffee orders and his favorite food places on campus. When she first walked in, the first thing he’d asked her was her favorite place to grab lunch on campus, since he was starving and one of the other TA’s had offered to drop off some food for him. His personal favorite was the bagel place (he could have a cream cheese bagel at any time of the day, he told her), but that place closes early, so he was stuck between getting mexican or sushi.
Y/n advised him to stick with the burritos – her ex-roommate once got food poisoning from the sushi. Never trust the on-campus sushi, she warned.
“M’kinda like that too,” she responds once she finishes up her essay outline. “I usually just always get the chai, ‘cos I know I’ll like it. But sometimes I’ll be adventurous with like, the syrups I add, because it doesn’t really make a difference. Like right now, I have pumpkin spice syrup in here, and I can barely taste it so even if I didn’t like it, it’d be fine.” She takes a sip to somehow prove her point. “I just like adding the pumpkin for the fall vibes.”
“Is fall your favorite season?” he asks. It’s been a lot of this – Harry asking her questions, getting to know her. She wonders if it’s because she’s the only one who shows up to his office hours and, therefore, is the only person whose ear he gets to talk off – or if he genuinely is interested in her. The thought of it makes her heart want to do a backflip, but she kindly tells her heart to CALM THE FUCK DOWN before she starts getting carried away in her train of thought. Harry’s just a nice guy! A nice guy, who talks to her about books, and shares his umbrella, and gives her rides home when it’s rainy outside – and has pretty pink lips, and pretty green eyes, and pretty brown curls.
“Yeah, I think so,” she hums.
Her crush on him seems to grow more and more every time she sees him, like those tall annoying weeds that you constantly have to dig out of a pretty flower garden. The type of weeds that seem to grow back even stronger each time you cut their roots and spray anti-weed chemicals on them to ensure that they don’t come back. She’s tried to smush those bothersome butterflies in her stomach, continuously reminding herself that he’s just her TA. That he’s just being nice. That he just calls her smart, and tells her that she’s doing a good job, and praises her discussion posts because that is literally what a Teaching Assistant is supposed to do. But whenever he smiles at her with that boyish dimple and his eyes glimmer all sweetly and romantically and thoughtfully – well she just can’t help it! She’s given up and has let the crush invade her brain like the invasive garden plant that it is.
It’s just a harmless little crush, she rationalizes. Just a little fantasy of kissing him here and there to get her through her boring lectures with Dr. Richmond – nothing wrong with that, right?
She clears her throat, “What’s your favorite season?”
He stares up at the ceiling, pursing his lips thoughtfully, “Hmm… probably spring. I like seeing the flowers bloom, especially after a snowy winter.���
Oh, of course he likes seeing the flowers bloom. He’s a walking piece of poetry.
+++
Harry stands at the front of the classroom, lecturing once again. It’s the same as before – fourty-ish college students hanging onto every word like his words are a waterfall and they’re a group of dehydrated travelers.
He loves teaching, loves seeing the way his students�� eyes light up with wonder when he explains a certain theme or points out a new motif. He’s more than happy to hold their hand through the novel, be their guiding light through the Romantic era. Their questions make his day, and he’s beyond happy to see that, now that they’re a few weeks into their course, the students are opening up.
“Victor is so caught up in his experiment,” Harry lectures, “that he begins to ignore nature. Victor says– ‘The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit. It was the most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage: but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature.’ So what role does nature – or should I say – the lack of nature, play for Victor?”
Four hands shoot up into the air (relieving considering how last week he could barely get anyone to say anything). “Katie, right?” He smiles when she nods, and gives an exaggerated, celebratory fist pump that makes all of his students chuckle. “Told you I’d start getting your names down! Go ahead, Katie.”
Although he’s laughing and smiling – practically beaming since he and his students are getting along and actually discussing (instead of just him lecturing them) – he can’t help but feel a little pinch of sadness in the back of his mind. As his eyes scan over the seats, he can’t manage to find y/n in the class. He’d searched for her three times already – wondering if he accidentally missed her, or if she was hidden behind one of the tall boys near the front – but he couldn’t find his star student. He missed catching her eye, giving her sly winks and watching her duck her head down stifle a laugh. It kept him entertained whenever he had to sit through Dr. Richmond’s lectures, and he liked hearing her talk. Not only does she add amazing thoughts to their class discussions, but she also is just… nice to listen to.
“Good… I love how you said that Katie,” Harry carries on, “He embodies the corruption of nature in the quest for glory. And we already know how highly the Romantics regard the beauty of nature – their artwork is meant to connect us with the world, isn’t it?”
He wonders if she’s okay. She isn’t hurt or anything, is she? Did something happen to her on her walk to class?
“He’s disrupting the natural cycle of life, basically destroying nature, by trying to play God and create life himself–”
Y/n, as quietly as she can, sneaks into the classroom. She’s 15 minutes late, which isn’t late enough to just completely ditch the lecture, but still late enough to raise a few eyebrows. Of course, being the clumsy duck she is, she accidentally knocks the trash can over with a loud bang. She winces at how loud the sound is, and feels her cheeks turn hot when all eyes turn to look at her.
Harry turns as well, and can’t help but smile to himself – there she is.
He continues with his lecture, as if nothing happened, but watches as she hurries over to her set spot in the third row. She messily pushes her hair out of her face as she sits down, pulling the pull-out desk in front of her and grabbing her laptop from her bag. She types in her password quickly, and pushes the sleeves of her white cardigan up her arms so that they aren’t in the way. Her eyes briefly flicker upwards to the projector to see what she missed – but instead she accidentally catches Harry’s gaze, who’s already looking at her.
All of a sudden, Harry loses his train of thought. His eyes flicker between hers, and she stares back at him. They’re stuck like that for a moment – just the briefest moment – before he realizes that words are no longer coming out of his mouth and that the rest of the class is staring at him expectantly.
His cheeks tint pink. “Um… sorry, what was I saying?” He chuckles at himself embarrassedly, shaking his head at himself – it’s not often that he stutters over his words. But, luckily, it was brief enough to just pass as a slight fumble. Nothing too suspicious.
Harry tears his eyes away from y/n and resumes with his lecture. But somehow, as delusional as she might be, y/n can tell that that moment was something more than just a slight stumble.
+++
“I got this for you,” y/n says, standing in front of Harry’s desk, placing the iced drink down next to his pile of papers.
Harry furrows his eyebrows and sits up straighter. “What?”
“It’s a pumpkin iced chai… the same one I usually get. I thought, since last time you said you didn’t wanna waste five bucks trying a new drink–”
“Are you mental?” he interrupts.
She blinks. “Huh?”
“Why would you go on and waste five of your dollars instead?” he huffs. “Christ, y/n, don’t be silly, m’not letting you buy me a coffee. How much was it, let me pay you back–” he’s reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, but y/n is quick to refuse.
“No, don’t worry I didn’t pay for it! Starbucks has this thing– it’s like, if you buy one fall drink you can get a second one for free, but it’s only on Thursdays after 12. And I was gonna get one for myself anyway, so I was like– might as well just get the second one for free so that you can try it and not waste five dollars.”
He pauses, his wallet half open and a five dollar bill pinched between her fingers. He squints at her, “Are you lying?”
She gives an exasperated huff, “Why would I lie?!”
“I dunno, maybe you’re trying to butter me up with drinks and stuff so that I’ll grade your essays easier – which won’t work by the way! M’not easy to bribe!”
She rolls her eyes and plops into the seat across from him. “Please. If I was gonna try and butter you up, it would’ve started five weeks ago, when classes actually started. And I probably wouldn’t be in your office hours every week groveling over these stupid essays.” She lets her bag fall to the floor and blows the hair out of her face. “Y’know, Dr. Richmond does not explain the politics of 18th Century Europe well enough to expect me to write an entire essay on ‘the effects of globalization on romantic era literature.’ I signed up for a literature class, not European history. When are we gonna start writing essays on Frankenstein and feminism?”
Harry goes to respond, but right at that moment he takes a tentative sip of the drink that y/n had forced onto his desk. He cannot hide the grimace that graces his face.
Her eyes round out and her eyebrows pinch. “You don’t like it?” she says with a pout.
His lips smack together a few times, trying to get used to the taste of pumpkin in his mouth – but he actually really cannot stand it. “God,” he says, his nose wrinkles and his tongue aching for some water to wash away the pumpkin-y after taste. “What a waste of five dollars.”
“Oh my gosh– I did not spend five dollars on a drink for you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he pushes the drink to the edge of his desk, the sight of it making his tummy turn a little bit (he really did not like that pumpkin flavor mixed with milk). He then states the obvious, “You were late today.”
“Yeah. I overslept.”
He tsks, “What happened to the punctual Miss y/n who showed up twenty minutes early on the first day of classes?”
She sighs, “Dunno. Was up kinda late last night. And then I guess I snoozed through my alarm.”
It’s only then that he notices the dark circles under her eyes, and how her face is missing that usual radiant glow. He’s so caught up in her smile and her eyes, that he nearly missed the exhaustion leaking off her body. “How late?” he inquires.
“Um… like 3 in the morning.” Harry gapes at her, and she shrugs.
“Tha’s not healthy,” he scolds like a father. “Why’re you staying up so late, hm? Should be in bed for at least 6-8 hours, don’t you know that?”
“I know,” she rubs at her eyes tiredly. “I just have a psych midterm next week that m’really freaked out about. I like– fell behind on the lectures, so m’trying to learn like the past three weeks of material in a few days.”
Harry feels his heart ache, sympathizing for this poor, tired, hard-working girl. He knows the struggles of undergrad – he was pulling all nighters too, back in his day, and he never dared to go above 16 units. He wonders how she’s surviving, taking 20 units while still being at the top of her classes – well, she’s at the top of this class, he knows for certain. His star student.
Her eyes are still hidden behind her hands, knuckling at her eyelids, but she pulls them away slowly when she feels Harry’s hand at her knee. She looks at him, and he’s suddenly aware of how red and glossy her eyes are. “Just don’t overdo the studying, okay?” he says with soft eyes and a gentle voice. His thumb rubs overtop her knee softly, saying a hundred words that he can’t say out loud just quite yet.
She nods, and swallows thickly. “Okay.”
He smiles. “So you want a crash course in European History? I can do that for you. Dunno why more people don’t show up to my office hours, m’literally about to tell you exactly what to write…”
+++
Y/n is exhausted.
Actually, exhausted doesn’t cut it. She is at her breaking point.
With midterms week upon her, she’s been drowning herself in her school work, trying to keep up with her lectures and recap everything that she’s learned up until this point. Kind of difficult, when she’s fallen so dreadfully behind and barely knows what’s going on in her stats class. And – to make things worse, not only does she have both her stats and psych midterm this Friday, but she also needs to finish this stupid Globalization essay by tomorrow’s deadline.
Seven pages about The Effects of Globalization on British Romantic Literature. She currently has three pages written.
She’s screwed.
It’s not like she was trying to get behind! She tried so hard to stay on top of her studies. She promised herself that she’d finish the globalization essay last night – went to starbucks with her noise canceling headphones, got herself an iced pumpkin chai as a motivational treat, and sat down to turn all her notes into a beautiful, magical essay on Romanticism that would make Dr. Richmond weep.
But… the words just weren’t wording! Her brain refused to cooperate with her, despite the fact that she stayed at the Starbucks literally up until they kicked her out. She read her sources, went over her excerpts, wrote and rewrote her thesis over and over again… and only got three out of the seven pages done. She doesn’t know whether to blame Dr. Richmond for assigning such a stupid essay, or just her own sleep-deprived brain.
She’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep last night. And the night before that, too. Harry’s words ring loudly in her head, scolding her to get at least six hours of sleep every night… but she just has so much work to do! She has to do her psych readings, her stats homework, the midterm practice her stats professor posted, and this essay… It's a lot. Plus having to actually attend all of her classes and go to work (she works at the campus bookstore) on top of all her homework and studying? She barely has time to eat!!!
Her tummy grumbles miserably, a painful reminder of the fact that she had forgotten to pack herself a lunch this morning in her haste to get to class on time. The pain is nowhere as bad as her headache, though. It’s the kind of migraine you get when you barely got any sleep. Her head feels heavy, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and her eyes sting every time she blinks. It’s horrible. She can barely focus on anything. Not her stats homework, not the essay open in front of her.
Not even Harry, who’s sitting to her left, helping her with her essay. In fact, she’s completely missed what he’s spent the past minute explaining to her.
She blinks at him slowly. “Sorry… can you say that again?”
Harry’s pretty face pinches, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glimmering with concern. She’s so clearly off today… he can’t ignore her red-rimmed eyes and zoning out any longer. “…are you okay?” he asks timidly.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says quickly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine.” But it’s like as soon as she says those two words, the dam holding her together collapses, and a river of emotion comes barreling through her. She looks down at the open document on her laptop, stares at the cursor blinking at her. The blank page taunting her. Tears well up in her eyes, and her heart starts to swell sadly. She’s not fine at all.
She quickly hides her face from Harry, looking down at her lap. She is NOT allowed to cry in front of him, she reprimands herself. She’s kept herself together all day, why is she starting to get emotional now, in the middle of his office hours? Couldn’t it have waited until she was alone in her shower?
She swallows around the lump in her throat, and presses her palms to her stinging eyes. As if that’ll keep her tears at bay. “Sorry,” she mumbles, trying to conceal her shaky voice, “let me just think for a second.”
“Hey…” Harry sees right through it. “Hey, come on. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says, mostly trying to convince herself. She sniffles as quietly as she can and tries to rub the tears away. “Sorry, nothing. I’m fine.”
She reaches for her laptop, but Harry grabs her hand. “No.” He can’t ignore the glossy sheen of her eyes, or the quiet sniffles. He just can’t. “We need to take a break.”
“It’s really fine–” she tries to say, but she can barely get it out with how her throat is swelling. She stares down at the floor. Harry holds her hand.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His hands are big and warm, encasing her’s, wholly. A cross tattoo sits between the slit of his thumb and second finger, twitching as his thumb grazes her knuckles.
“M’just tired,” she says dejectedly. “I was up super late last night and I just… didn’t even get anything done. And now I have to finish this, and I haven’t finished my stats homework, and I have two midterms on Friday.” Her heart starts to race as she realizes much she has to do, and how little time she has. She’s stretched herself thin. “There��s just so much I have to get done,” her voice cracks, “and I’m so tired.” A big fat tear rolls down her face, and drops onto her shirt – shamefully staining the thin material.
Harry gets out of his chair and kneels down in front of her, resting their joint hands in her lap as he stares up at her. More tears fill her eyes without her consent, and her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she sniffles. She refuses to meet his gaze, despite how earnestly he’s looking into her sad eyes. Another drop falls from her lashes.
“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs sadly.
“I thought I could handle it all,” she bleats. “But I’m so unprepared for my midterms, and I need to finish this essay, and I promised you that I’d stay on top of my work, but I’m falling behind–”
“Don’t worry about the essay,” he interrupts. “I’ll get you an extension on your paper.”
She shakes her head. “Dr. Richmond doesn’t do extensions, though,” she blubbers.
“I’ll talk to him,” he says firmly. “M’the one grading it anyway.”
“But Harry–” she whines, shamelessly childlike, “I promised you that this wouldn’t happen. I told you I could handle it.”
“And you can handle it. I know you can.” His green eyes are wide and round as he looks up at her, earnest and pleading. “You come to office hours, and you study hard, and you’d stay up all night to finish this essay – but I don’t want you to. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know you can do it.”
She pouts, still not looking up at him. She stares instead at their joint hands in her lap blankly.
“You’re doing so good,” he coos, “You’re coming to office hours even when you have so much going on, and you’re taking so many units. I know you’re giving it your all. S’okay.”
He reaches a hand out to rest on her shoulder, and suddenly she feels the weight of the world fall off of her chest. A long, shaky breath leaves her, and she blinks her eyes shut, letting more tears cascade down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry’s heart breaks. He leans up to wrap his arms around her shoulders, a soft hug, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder, letting the tears silently fall. His hands rub big, soothing circles on her back, and he shushes her softly, “It’s alright.”
His blue dress shirt feels cool against her face, crisp and fresh, and he smells like vanilla and smoked wood. She doesn’t want to abandon his firm chest, his warm embrace, but he pulls back and looks into her eyes. For the first time, she meets his gaze. “No more crying, okay?”
She sniffles, and wipes the wetness off her cheeks. “M’kay.”
A soft smile smooths out the worried lines on his face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says, his hands slapping his thighs as he stands back up. “You’re going to take a nap–” he closes his office door and locks it with a click.
“A nap?” her watery voice exclaims. “But– I need to study!”
He gives her a firm look. “You’re not gonna get any studying done if your brain isn’t well rested.” From one of the bottom drawers of his desk, he pulls out a blanket (he sometimes will take a nap in his office if he needs a break from grading). “Take a nap. I’ll wake you in an hour and then y’can study in here.”
+++
You know that peaceful feeling that surrounds a room when a baby is taking a nap? How everyone tiptoes around the crib, their voices barely surpassing a whisper in fear of waking the sleeping baby. How parents will stand around, just watching the baby nap, smiling to themselves when their baby twitches in its sleep. How the world just seems more… peaceful?
That’s how Harry feels right now.
Y/n is on his couch, his cozy gray blanket pulled up to her chin. Her cheeks are puffed, her tired eyes shut with her eyelashes resting delicately on the tops of her cheeks. She looks angelic, the most relaxed he’s ever seen her be, with no midterms stressing her out. No papers due, no furrowed eyebrows, no crying. Like a sleeping baby, cherubic and sweet. He’s been tiptoeing around her for the past hour, grading papers as quietly as he can. He tried to be productive and just mind his business while she napped, but everytime he shuffled through one of the essays, he felt the urge to check on her, to make sure that he didn’t accidentally wake her up. And then he just wanted to… watch her. Not in a creepy way though!!! Not in a creepy way. In a kind of… sweet way. :( She was beautiful, especially when she slept.
His heart doesn’t want to wake her up – not when she looks so peaceful for the first time weeks. All the times he’s seen her since that very first week was her stressing and stressing and stressing – stressing about getting a permission code from Dr. Richmond, stressing about her exams, stressing about the rain. He’s never gotten to see her take a breath and be calm. She’s a hard worker, he can tell – which is a great trait that he admires in his students. But, with y/n… he just wants to make sure she’s okay, too.
He kneels down in front of the couch, and regretfully murmurs out, “y/n?” She doesn’t respond at all– she’s dead to the world. All the exhaustion that she’d accumulated this past week, all the hours of sleep she missed, are catching up with her now. He tries again, “Y/n… time to wake up.”
Her eyebrows furrow and her nose wrinkles, but she still refuses to open her eyes. The pull of sleepiness is too strong. It makes him chuckle. “Come on, bunny,” he says, in reference to her twitchy nose and pouty lips. “V’got a snack for you.”
Her sleepy eyes blink open, and immediately he can tell that she needed that nap. Her eyes are brighter, less red, and she stares up at him sweetly. “A snack?”
Of course that would get her to wake up. His dimple pokes his cheek. “S’not much. Just a granola bar. But it’ll help you while you study.”
She sits up, the blanket pooling around her waist, and rubs at her eye with her knuckle.
“Feeling better?” He asks, a hand on her knee.
She nods. She’d taken an Advil for her headache before she’d gone to sleep. That, with her nap, has made the prospect of studying a little bit more bearable.
When she looks around the room, she sees that Harry’s cleared up a portion of his desk for her to study at. Gone are his stacks of books, a bare square of wood right across from the stack of essays he’s currently grading. The usual foldable chair that he has students sit in during his office hours has been moved to the corner, and has been replaced with one of the more comfy, rolly chairs. He’s gone out of his way to make a sweet little study space for her while she napped in his office.
“Now… we’re gonna have to leave by 9,” Harry says, standing up and going round to his side of his desk. “Cos v’got to feed my cat. But that gives us at least… two hours of study time. N’then I can take you home. How does that sound?”
She blinks. “Harry… thank you.” She doesn’t know why he’s being so nice to her, or what she’s done to deserve such kind treatment. But it means the world.
He shrugs nonchalantly, but she doesn’t miss the dimple that pinches his cheek as he smiles to himself.
+++
They stay in his office until nightfall.
Harry’s nicely styled curls turn messy, his fingers tangling through his hair he graded the freshman papers (is he a harsh grader, or does this new generation truly not know how to write?). His eyebrows furrow behind his tortoise shell glasses, green eyes hard and serious. Y/n watches the way his lips purse, how he taps his red pen against his chin while he reads.
Her own brain is done with studying. After her nap, she started playing her classical music and sat down to finish her stats homework AND the practice midterm. Without the globalization essay to worry about, she managed to calm down and focus, get some of her work done, and catch up on the things she was so behind on. Does she feel any better about the exam? No. But at least she can say that she studied!
Harry manages to make a nice dent in the stack of ungraded papers as well, working well in the comfortable silence filtering between the two of them. There was no need for them to talk, and they didn’t distract each other either. Simply getting their work done next to each other, and enjoying each other’s presence (though neither one of them would outright admit how nice it is to just sit in silence with the other).
They pack up and head out together when it gets closer to nine. Harry holds the office door open for her and locks his door behind them, and they walk closely together towards the parking lot. It’s dark, the ground only lit by the few streetlights looming above them, and a shiver racks through y/n’s body from the cool autumnal air. She hadn’t planned on being on campus so late – she thought that she’d probably go straight home after office hours and pull an all-nighter to finish her essay – so therefore, she doesn’t have much of a jacket except for a lame cardigan over her shirt.
Harry, who usually is on campus until nightfall anyway, wishes he could do something for her when he notices the way she’s hugging herself, her cardigan pulled over her fingers. He wants to pull her to his side, wrap an arm around her and share his body warmth with her – but that would be entirely too unprofessional, he thinks. Instead he picks up his pace, forcing y/n to scurry in order to keep up with his long strides, and immediately turns on the heat for her.
He doesn’t need to ask for directions this time, knowing exactly where to turn and how to get to her apartment, and when he pulls up in front of her door, he turns to her quietly. “Listen. Don’t stress about the paper. Focus on studying for your exams, and then you can have the entire weekend to finish the paper, okay?”
“I feel… bad. Like, Dr. Richmond said no extensions, and you’re making these exceptions for me–”
“Don’t overthink it,” Harry interrupts. “Dr. Richmond just says that so people don’t just ask for extensions because they procrastinated. He will grant extensions when there’s a valid reason.”
“But, really it’s not a valid reason… everyone else has midterms.”
“But none of those other students have shown me how much they care about this class. I know you’re a hard worker, I know you aren’t just procrastinating.” He shrugs, “M’the one who makes the calls. And I think you deserve an extension.”
She sits there quietly, then says, “I-I just don’t want you to think I only came to your office hours to cry and make you give me an extension. I… come to your office hours for help. You’re like… helpful.” She says that last part awkwardly, and it makes him chuckle quietly.
“You can say I’m your favorite TA. I won’t tell.” His dimple pokes his cheek as he smirks at her teasingly, and she can’t help but giggle too. Her eyes twinkle as she looks at him with a small shake of her head. That wasn’t what she was getting at… but it is true.
They stare at each other for a moment too long. One of Harry’s hands rests on the wheel, while the other one comes up to play with his lip. Y/n’s hands sit politely in her lap, her bag sitting at her feet on the passenger’s seat floor. They’re both quiet, not knowing what to say. Yeah, they’re laughing and teasing each other, but something heavier lingers in the air around them. This tension… this magnetic energy. Neither y/n nor Harry know what’s causing it, or why the silence is suddenly so overwhelming. The smile on y/n’s face lingers in her eyes, which glimmer as she stares at Harry. And Harry, who had been smirking mischievously, now looks at y/n with a bit of a more serious air. He stares at her thoughtfully, his bottom lip pinched between his lips. His eyes wander down to her lips, pretty and heart shaped. She’s chewing the inside of her lip softly, and he wants to brush his thumb over her mouth and tell her to stop.
He catches himself, and quickly tears his eyes away before she notices. He clears his throat.
“Take care of y’self,” he says with a soft smile. “I want to see you well rested in class next week, okay?”
+++
HOPE U GUYS LOVED IT!!!!!! part 3 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (oct 21) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!! more tarry to come!
Prose (part 3) is already posted on patreon! : In which y/n is Harry's favorite student, and she sort of somehow accidentally kisses him.
Prose Masterlist
#harry#harry fic#harry styles fanfic#harry smut#harry styles smut#harry styles fic#professor!harry#TA!harry#professorry
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Fresh Start
Jack Hughes x Female Edwards Reader
Warning: cussing, fluff
word count: 1.0k
let me know what you guys think🤍
I was starting my last year of University, I used to go to the University of Michigan but after a bad break up I ended up transferring to Columbia University.
Columbia university is only a few minutes from Jersey, the team my brother was drafted by. My younger brother and I are pretty close, I could have stayed in Michigan and spent my last year with him there, but I needed a change, and to be somewhere I wouldn't run into my ex.
My brother will be in Jersey in a few years and I can't wait.
Since my brother started playing for the Michigan Wolverines he became close with his teammates, he’s pretty close to Luke Hughes, who was also drafted by the New Jersey Devils, now there roommates in Michigan, Luke playing in his last year before he joins his brother jack in Jersey who already plays for the devils.
Because both Luke and Ethan got to Michigan at the same time, along with a few others they stuck together, and are really close.
My brother introduced me to his teammates and I became friends with them, mostly the older ones. Now when I told the guys I was transferring to Columbia they were all sad but they understood why. Luke and Ethan both made it their mission to tell Jack, Luke’s brother to make sure he looks after me, they don’t think I know but it was pretty obvious.
Last summer when Ethan was invited to the Hughes Lake house, they also invited me, since according to Luke I became like a sister to him. That’s where I met Jack for the first time, Luke introduced us. Jack and I didn’t talk much that summer but I know for a fact that Ethan and Luke told him to look after me when I was at Columbia, I’m not stupid even tho both Ethan and Luke are younger than me, ever since my break up they’ve been protective.
Now I've been in Jersey for about a month and a half. University started a few weeks ago, Jack came by my apartment during my second day here, he said he wanted to show me around but I knew Luke told him.
Jack showed all the best places to go to in New York, he also introduced me to his teammates, they're all really nice and welcoming, so is Jack.
Ever since I got here, we’ve been spending a lot of time together when he doesn’t have practice and I’m not busy with homework.
Today is Wednesday. I had class from 8:30 to 10 a.m. This morning, Jack had the day off so he asked if I wanted to hang out after class and I agreed.
I just got back to my apartment. It's now 10:30 p.m. Jack said he’d be here at 11 a.m. so i went and changed out of my jeans and put on a pair of black Lululemon leggings so I could be more comfortable.
Once I was done I went and sat down on my couch, I turned on Netflix and put on the new season of Outer Banks so I could watch before he got here.
Thankfully I didn’t have any homework to do since I finished it last night. Ever since i’ve gotten close to jack i started to get feelings but there’s nothing i can do about it since i doubt he feels the same way. My brother will be his teammate in a couple of years and I also don’t want to make things weird between them.
At around 11:02 a.m. there was a knock on the door, I paused the show and went to open the door.
“Hey, this is for you” Jack greeted me smiling with an extra coffee in his hands, when I opened the door.
“Hey, come in and thank you, you didn’t have to get me a coffee” I replied smiling and taking the coffee from him, while opening the door wider so he could walk in, once he did I closed the door. Jack took off his shoes and we made our way to the living room.
“ it’s nothing, i know you had class this morning so i thought you might need one”
“I really did, so thank you”
“ What are we doing today?” He asked
“I have no clue, what do you want to do?” I said
“I was thinking maybe if it’s okay with you, i could take you on a date” he said looking at me waiting for my response. I was shocked. I didn't think he felt the same way.
“I’d love that” i said smiling softly
“Perfect, do you want to go after we're both done with our coffees?” He asked
“That’s perfect” i said nodding
“How have you been? How are your classes?”
“I’m good, my classes have been a bit stressful but it’s normal since it’s my senior year.”
“Makes sense, are you excited to be graduating in May?”
“Yes, I can't wait,” I said eagerly, making him chuckle.
“Jeez, it is that bad” he said sarcastically making me chuckle
“No, i’m just excited to be able to do what i love full time” i said smiling
“I’m glad”
“Are you ready to go out?” He asked once I took the last sip of coffee.
“Yeah, let’s go” i said smiling
We put on our shoes and jackets before making our way out of my apartment. I grabbed my hand and I looked at him smiling.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked curious
“It’s a surprise” he said smiling
Jack ended up taking me out to one of my favorite restaurants that he showed me when i first moved here, it was an amazing date, i had a lot of fun.
Now Jack dropped me off at home. He walked me up to my door.
“I had an amazing time tonight” I said, turning and looking at Jack who already had a smile on his face.
“Me too, any chance I can take you on another date soon?” He asked.
“I would love that” i said blushing
“Perfect,” he replied.
He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“I’ll talk to you later, have a good night Yn” he said before leaving.
Once I made it in the apartment and closed the door I couldn't stop smiling.
Another date? I like the sound of that!!
#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl fluff#nhl imagine#nhl blurbs#nhl blurb#hockey blurb#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey#hockey fanfiction#hockey fluff#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fic#jack hughes#new jersey devils#fluff#luke hughes#ethan edwards#umich hockey
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Sunny Day Jack - Growing Old Together
I've been trying to encourage myself to write more on impulse rather than get stuck in my head so much. Soooo, when this particular thread on twitter popped up about an older Joseph aging like fine wine and snuggling up to his sunshine in the morning, I got inspired.
This is an off the cuff first-draft drabble that might be a bit rough. There's some hints of spice to it, but mostly it's just marshmallow fluff about Joseph and Mary in an AU where they were able to grow old together and have their happy ending. (Unlike the main timeline.) I hope you enjoy this peek into what might have been.
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps
...
The house felt so big and empty after the kids moved out, all grown up now and living their own lives. It took Mary time to get used to the quiet after so many years filled with the sound of children shouting and laughing.
The past decades passed by so quickly with days that were long, but years that ultimately were so painfully short.
The passage of time made Mary all the more thankful that Joseph had been with her throughout it all. He was still here with her, just like he promised so many years ago.
Sometimes in the quiet, Mary remembered the incident from 40 years ago, the gunman that almost took the stars from her sky. It was a miracle that the bullet merely grazed its target. What remained was a scar on weathered skin that left a notch in a hairline that now had more gray hair than brown. She traced and kissed that scar countless times while thanking God that it, and a scary memory, were all that were left behind that day. She did it again now, just the lightest touch of her lips against his marred skin so as not to rouse her beloved husband from his slumber.
The thoughts weren’t exactly sad, but they held enough of a somber edge that Mary couldn’t get back to sleep despite the early hour. Usually she and Joseph slept in late ever since they retired and the kids left for college, but not this morning. These were the sort of thoughts that she knew by now could fester if she remained idle.
It was a shame to leave the warmth of their bed and the big, strong arms that held her so close, but Mary couldn’t bring herself to wake Joseph. He looked so tranquil, the wrinkles on his face just a little smoother. His breaths came slow and steady, a gentle background noise to the otherwise quiet morning.
With some regret, Mary slipped free of her husband’s arms with practiced ease. The hardest part was stretching out the stiffness in her muscles without making a noise. It seemed like every year she found a new ache that slowed her down and made it even harder to get started in the morning.
Yet, there was an undercurrent of triumph in observing evidence of the passage of time. Every wrinkle and silver hair and ache that showed her age was a reminder that she was still living far beyond that damned expiration date she had been given so many years ago.
Take that, Dr. Wheiz! Mary thought with a vindictive smile. She would outlive that stupid pediatrician yet!
Still, Mary tried to redirect her thoughts away from the shadow of death that had so nearly taken her or her beloved husband. They were alive, and she wanted to focus on living.
What better way to do that than by making a nice, tasty breakfast?
The kitchen was far enough away from their bedroom that Mary could risk playing some music at a low volume, a nice jaunty tune to help her wake up. It was a shame that the radio stations’ definition of “oldies” was pop songs from the start of the millennium, but the tablet her eldest gifted her for her birthday had plenty of her favorite music loaded up and ready to let her relive a little nostalgia.
Mary let herself get lost in her work, idly humming along to the chorus as she swayed her hips a little from side to side. Measuring, mixing, and watching the little disks turn a beautiful golden brown in the sizzling pan recentered her thoughts to focus on the delicious meal she would soon be enjoying with the best company she could ever ask for.
A pair of large hands stilled her swaying hips, and Mary jumped, just a little, before a wry chuckle escaped her. She allowed herself to be pulled back into the broad chest she knew so well. Joseph was softer than he was in his prime, especially around the middle, but that just made him the perfect pillow to snuggle into.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Joseph said around a yawn as he nuzzled into his wife’s shoulder. His voice was thick with sleep and deeper than usual, sending a shiver down her spine when he spoke so close to her ear.
“Good morning, Starlight,” Mary said as she turned her head to plant a kiss on her husband’s cheek. His stubble lightly scratched her skin where he brushed against her, a bit ticklish and a bit sharp, but not an unpleasant sensation.
“What’s for breakfast?” Joseph asked before he gave a kiss in return on her neck. He smiled against her skin as he felt her shiver a little, and he kissed her again to enjoy another.
“Pancakes,” Mary said. “And maybe some eggs and bacon while I’ve got the skillet out.”
Joseph nuzzled into his wife’s mostly silver hair, planting kisses among the soft strands. He wasn’t quite awake yet, still clinging to the sweet dreamy haze he woke up in. “Mmm… sounds good. Blueberry?”
“Maybe,” Mary said with a teasing note to her voice. “Or maybe we can change things up a little. How do chocolate chip pancakes sound?”
A quiet grunt escaped Joseph, and Mary could easily imagine his pouty look from the way he grumbled into her hair. “Not as good as blueberry.”
Mary giggled as she slid the pancake she had just finished onto a plate. “Now, now, you don’t need to sound so disappointed. Sometimes it’s good to switch things up a little.”
Joseph made a wordless sound of disapproval at the back of his throat as he slid his arms around her middle and rested his chin atop her head. It was a toothless protest, and Mary knew it.
“No one makes better blueberry pancakes than you do,” Joseph said, his voice a low rumble that Mary could feel run through her entire body due to their closeness. “Remember what I told you? I could eat your blueberry pancakes every day for the rest of my life.”
Mary shivered at the sound of his voice and the way his large hands idly rubbed circles along her stomach. The motion wasn’t intended to be seductive, just an idle appreciation for the softness of her body, but even after all these years Joseph had a way of sparking that special heat inside of her like no one else could.
“You’re in luck then,” Mary said with a slightly shaky breath, dropping the tease from her tone. “Because that’s what I’m making.” With that she made a show of drawing a ladle full of batter, scooping in as many big ripe blueberries as she could, and drizzling it into the pan with a satisfying sizzle.
Joseph blinked before a chuckle escaped him as his sleepy mind caught up with his wife’s little game. He tilted his head to rub his cheek along the top of her head, drawing her just that little bit closer into him. “You really know how to spoil me, Sunshine.” He sighed deeply, his warm breath stirring shiny errant strands of her hair. “Mary… I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Joseph,” Mary said as she reached up to stroke his cheek. She savored the contours of his jawline that had softened with age, the pleasant prickle of stubble that trailed all the way down his neck. Most of all, she enjoyed the pleased hum he made at her touch and the way he tried to nuzzle into both her hand and hair all at the same time. “More than anyone else in the world.”
Joseph sighed, content, as he savored the warmth that radiated from his sunshine nestled so cozy and close in his arms. The music changed from some upbeat tune to something slower, a bit jazzy. He swayed to the easy rhythm, turning their embrace into almost a slow dance.
Mary enjoyed the feeling for a moment, but let out a chuckle when she found it a challenge to flip the pancake neatly. “Starlight, love of my life, apple of my eye, my dearest wish come true… you know I love you, but it’s a bit difficult to cook like this.”
Joseph closed his eyes as he rested his cheek atop his wife’s head, his body still rocking with hers in time to the music. “Mm hmm?”
A small chuckle escaped Mary. “So as much as I love you holding me so close, maybe you should step back for a bit, hmm?”
Joseph let out a thoughtful hum as he took a moment to consider the proposition, before finally burying his face into her hair. “Nah. Let’s stay like this a bit longer.”
Mary couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh come on.”
“I’m staying where it’s nice and cozy,” Joseph said teasingly before burying his face into her neck. “So warm…”
Mary shivered at the feeling of his breath, his lips, and the scruff along his skin brushing along her neck. Though the smell of sweet pancakes filled the air, she couldn’t help but focus on her husband’s scent, a heady musk that still had a bit of smokiness to it even long after he quit smoking before the kids were born. She couldn’t help but turn a little bit more towards him to breathe him in, the scent of home. “Joseph…”
“Five more minutes,” Joseph said, his voice a low, throaty murmur that vibrated through her skin. “Just five more minutes…”
Mary shook her head a little as she let out a wry chuckle, both at her husband’s familiar clinginess and how quickly she always caved to his needy pleas. “Okay, five-”
“No, wait,” Joseph said quickly. “Ten more minutes. I want ten more minutes like this.”
“Oh come on,” Mary mock groaned as she rolled her eyes towards her husband. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help it,” Joseph chuckled before he stole a kiss from his sunshine’s lips. “You’ve thoroughly spoiled me rotten, Sunshine, and this dog is too old to learn any new tricks now.”
“What have I done?” Mary asked with theatrical dismay as she turned her eyes towards the ceiling and made dramatic sweeping gestures in the air with her spatula. “I’ve turned my sweet puppy husband into a koala bear! Now we’re stuck like this forever.”
Joseph couldn’t help but laugh at his wife’s antics and smirked smugly as he rested his chin atop her head again. “That’s right, Sunspot. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever. Nothing’s ever going to pull us apart.”
“Not even… pancakes with chocolate chips?” Mary asked, adding an overly dramatic emphasis to her words.
Joseph let out a sufficiently horrified gasp. When Mary tried to squirm away, reaching for the refrigerator, he snatched her by the wrist and pulled her back towards him. “Oh no you don’t, Sunspot!”
The hold on her was firm, but Mary knew it was still breakable. She could wriggle free if she really wanted. No matter how tightly Joseph held her, he always allowed her to slip away whenever she needed to. No matter how many times he restrained her with his large hands, his bulky body, or even some silk ties, she never felt scared or trapped. He always had a way of making her feel safe, secure, and loved. She knew that if she really wanted him to let her go or step back to give her space, he would, even if he might pout a little doing so.
But she didn’t. In the end, Mary could never resist Joseph when he was clingy and needy like this. She could put up a token resistance, try to escape, but she could never resist the excitement of having him chase after her. The way he pawed at her body as she squirmed against him made her feel like they were in their twenties again, young, in love, and horny as hell for one another.
Mary continued to squirm against her husband, twisting her body around in his grasp as she made for the fridge, before gasping as Joseph kissed the sensitive inside of her wrist. He gazed deeply into her eyes as he took the time to mark a trail down her arm, his tongue occasionally flicking across her soft skin. He took advantage of the way his burning gaze pinned her in place to grind his hips into hers, and she could feel the hardness starting to grow against her.
“Fuck, Mary…,” Joseph groaned against her skin, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine that settled between her legs where he rubbed himself against her, turning into a delicious heat that had her arching into him. “Keep that up, and I’ll be having you for breakfast instead of blueberry pancakes.”
Mary felt a thrill run through her as she saw the hunger in her husband’s eyes. Even after all these years together and all the unflattering ways time had changed her body, the fact that Joseph could still look at her like that always left her breathless.
Time changed Joseph as well, but she enjoyed snuggling into the softness of his once hard edges. The lines at the corners of his eyes were markers of how many times she made him laugh, the ones around his mouth a testament to his countless bright and beautiful smiles.
They made a life together. It wasn’t perfect, and sometimes there were stormy days that cast a shadow over them, but they always managed to find a way to keep each other warm. The fire of love and passion still burned between them, as brilliant and beautiful as it always had been.
Unfortunately, the smell of smoke wound up interrupting the steamy moment. Mary yelped and quickly scrambled to get the burnt pancake onto a plate before it could char further.
“Oops,” Joseph yelped as he straightened up to allow Mary greater ease of movement. “I guess I should’ve stuck with five minutes after all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish look. “Sorry.”
Mary shot Joseph with a reproachful gaze. “How about we save dessert until after breakfast, okay?”
“Right,” Joseph chuckled awkwardly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take that one. Even burnt pancakes still taste good when they’re made with love.” He threw in a wink and a cheeky smile. “That’s why you taste so good after all.”
“Joseph!” Mary squealed as though scandalized. “You’re incorrigible!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Joseph laughed as he held up his hands in mock surrender. His expression softened as he gave her a tender smile and reached out to cup her cheek. “I just can’t help it when I’m with you, Mary.”
Mary leaned into his palm and whatever annoyance she felt melted away like butter on a hot skillet. It was impossible for her to hold onto any negative thoughts or feelings for long when she was with Joseph. With him around, the bad times weren’t as hard to handle, and the good times were even more wonderful. She hardly felt the years that seeped into her bones and made them ache. With him, time didn’t matter. They weren’t lonely children or struggling twenty-somethings lost in a vast world anymore, but she didn’t feel old and withered either. All these years allowed them to grow together like two trees twining together, growing strong enough to weather any storm.
“I feel the same way,” Mary murmured. “I love you, Joseph.”
“I love you too, Mary,” Joseph said before he pulled her back into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. When he drew back, he gave her a bright smile. “How about I help you finish cooking breakfast? Two sets of hands are better than one, you know.”
“Okay,” Mary said before flashing her husband a teasing grin. “But let’s try to keep those hands cooking instead of fondling, okay?”
Joseph reached over to take the spatula from Mary. His touch lingered on her fingers, sliding along them and her palm longer than necessary before he relieved her of the utensil. He flashed her a cheeky grin that she knew all too well and loved more and more as the years went on.
“No promises~”
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Pslspslpslsls write a Logan howlett x ftm or male reader 🙏🏾🙏🏾 breeding kink….??
hi anon!! I have been playing to write this since I'm trans myself! (genderfluid afab) I'm pulling this out of my drafts so I hope you enjoy 🩷
Logan Howlett, there are many words to describe this man most people will call him egotistical a narcissist, and have a bit of a stuck-up bitch with anger issues. Some people might say he’s the most violent creature they have ever met, is some of that slightly true yes but do you care not because you’ve seen sides of him you thought he would never show anybody. It’s probably different because you guys have been friends for so long and that friendship turned into more later down in life. You and Logan have been knowing each other for years it almost felt like when you met him for the first time he was some attractive hothead with a smoking and drinking problem with some form of family issues.
And you were right when you first met him he was all of those things, but as you continue to talk, he was a vulnerable man dealing with his emotions in the worst possible way. You saw how much she was hurting and would comfort him every day even though he would hate it, but slowly he warmed up to you. Quite nice seeing him smile and giggle from time to time you guys kind of just kept each other company. He would also worry about you a lot. He swore to you that he would always protect you no matter what even if you and him weren’t talking anymore, he would go out of his way to protect you. Later on and your friendship you came out to him as transgender.
This was one of the most nerve-racking things you have done in a while, but it went surprisingly well. Logan didn’t care he still thought you were you. He was happy that you felt like you could tell him and ever since you told him he’s been doing everything in his power to make you feel comfortable. After that, your relationship continued to grow, but while it group platonically, it grew romantically. You and Logan would hook up occasionally kind of in the realm of no-strings-attached sex because you guys thought dating would ruin the friendship. As you guys continued to hook up you guys discovered that you had feelings for each other and wanted it more than just casual sex on the weekends you guys started dating and everything changed after that.
Logan was very protective over you and always had been and you always help Logan with several things around the house and also dressing his wounds, even though he doesn’t need to do that due to his regenerative healing, but he always found it cute that he would put little Band-Aids on his wounds. Overall, your relationship is flourishing, but there was something that was still ticking at you and it would always happen anytime you saw Logan even if he wasn’t talking about anything sexual racking thoughts in your head that He could breed me and I wouldn’t say anything about it or He could hold me down and breed me, and I wouldn’t even bat an eye. In some ways, you thought you were going crazy because no way in hell that was a normal thought especially when your said boyfriend is talking to you about a failed mission and all you can think about is him ripping off your clothes and breeding you till sundown.
In reality, you thought you were good at keeping this kind of secret to yourself. you wanted to tell Logan, of course, because he was your boyfriend and there was nothing wrong with experimenting sexually, but it was just the pure thought of it all and how it made you feel that freaked you out more than anything, especially for Logan’s reaction. having such a perverse thought, like this one that constantly racks her brain for days weeks, and months on end wasn’t healthy to keep in. After a while of trying to suppress this kind of fantasy, you just couldn’t anymore you would especially think about this type of topic if Logan was away for a little while. You would slip a finger inside your cunt and circle your sensitive cock dreaming about Logan’s cock filling you up like some make-shift Twinkie.
Logan wasn’t stupid. He knew something was up with you. At first, he thought you were just going through some things because he would be talking to you and it would just look like you weren’t paying attention. When he would try to get your attention, it was almost like you had seen a ghost. He had also noticed you were being weird around him kind of like lingering and looking at him when he would be doing normal tasks such as cooking, cleaning, and even smoking. He noticed that you would stare harder than usual when he would come out of the shower the type of stare where it felt like someone was burning into your skin. You noticed the lust and desire in your eyes constantly, but he wasn’t ready to give in to whatever fantasy you were playing out in your head. He wanted you to work for it or at least come clean him about it. He knew just the perfect time on when you might confess he just wanted to give you a little push.
The air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and whiskey as Logan stumbled through the door, his combat boots heavy on the old wooden floor. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across his rugged features. He tossed his keys onto the table, not bothering to look at me as he made his way towards the kitchen. "Hey," you called out, my voice hesitant yet tingling with anticipation. "Rough day?" Logan grunted in response, pulling a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. He didn't offer you any, which was typical. This night could either go two ways and you hoped it was the first option. "You want to talk about it?" I asked, leaning against the doorway, watching him pour himself a generous amount. "Nah," he muttered, taking a long swig. His eyes met mine briefly, dark and intense, before he looked away. "Just need to relax "You nodded, understanding more than he realized. "Well, let me help you with that." Without waiting for a response, I stepped closer, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. He didn’t stop me, his gaze now fixed on my hands as they worked slowly, revealing the hard lines of his chest. Each button undone felt like a small victory, a step closer to the edge you were both teetering on.
You always know how to make things better," Logan murmured, his voice rough with desire. You smirked feeling the heat rise in my face staring into his eyes. "That’s what friends are for, right?" He shot you a dirty look slightly annoyed, setting his glass down. "Isn’t that what we are? Friends?" Before you could answer, his hands were on you, pulling you close. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between the two of you palpable. His lips found yours, hungry and demanding, erasing any doubt about what we meant to each other. "Logan..." you gasped as he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down my neck. “We’re just friends my fucking ass” he whispered, his fingers deftly undoing his belt. "no friend is gonna pleasure you like I do bub.” Your chest heaved with each rapid breath, your eyes locked onto his. "I want you. Right now." He grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "What exactly do you want, my prince" Your voice caught in your throat, the words you wanted to say tingling at the tip of your tongue. "I... I want you to bend me over and breed me. P-please, fill my cunt until you can’t fill it anymore.” Logan's grin widened, his eyes darkening with lust. "Is that so?" he murmured, his fingers trailing down your neck, across your chest, and lower still, until they reached the waistband of your jeans. "Show me then. Show me how much you want it."
With trembling hands, you undid your belt, unzipped your jeans, and pushed them down along with your boxers, exposing your eager, throbbing cock. Logan's eyes flicked down, taking in the sight, and he gave a low whistle. "Fuck, you look good like that," he praised, his fingers circling your erection, stroking gently. You gasped, leaning your head back against the wall, your body arching into his touch. "ah fuck Logan," you whined, your voice hoarse with need. "Please, baby.” He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Oh, but I thought we were just friends bub. Now you are begging your friend for his cock? How much of a dirty whore are you huh? Why don’t you learn some patience mhm? But his actions belied his words. With one swift motion, he lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. You cried out as he slammed into you, the sensation overwhelming, primal. Logan pinned you against the wall, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one pushing you closer to the edge. "That's it," he growled, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. "Take it. Take every inch of my fat cock.”
You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body rocking with each powerful thrust. The world around you dissolved into a haze of pleasure, the only reality being Logan and the fierce, unyielding rhythm of his hips. "Logan, I'm... I'm close," you panted, your vision blurring with the force of your impending climax. He pulled back, his eyes fierce and commanding. "Then come for me, bub. Let me see you fall apart." That was all it took. With a strangled cry, you came, your release washing over you in waves, your body convulsing around Logan's pulsing cock. He followed soon after, his own climax hitting him hard, his seed filling you completely, sealing your mutual satisfaction. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the pounding of your hearts, both of you lost in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. You could feel Logan’s warm seed slowly spilling out of your cunt. It felt so good and oddly comforting having your greatest slutty fantasy come true. Logan looks down at you with a smirk before speaking
“Oh bub I’m not finished with you I think there is enough space in that cunt of yours for more of cum. Why don’t you let me fix that for you my cock drunk baby boy.”
Logan says brushing hair out your face making sure he can see you. You look up at him with a faint smile nodding your head as well. Who would say no too Logan breeding you like a slut?
Absolutely nobody.
#sykoangelssmut#sykoangels#need that#smutty fanfiction#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#fanfics#deadpool smut#logan howlett#ftm nsft#ftm ns/fw#logan smut#wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#ftm fanfic
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Kibutsuji Muzan: Succubus Survival
Hush.. just one more..
Genre: Romance // Muzan x succubus!reader
⚠️: Heavy suggestive and sexual references, kinky reader, immoral, not fully consensual, DO NOT BIND THE CHARACTERS TO REAL LIFE MORALS THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION
A/N: I'm so frustrated rn, this is like the 3rd draft I've had because it would suddenly post and answer privately ??? It was so annoying, so now I'm editing this on a private post. I love the request so much and thank you for requesting it but I will not be writing anything until I get my new device, I hope there'd be less mishaps there.
REQ: @cursetopia
Each night, in the houses of young noblemen—loud cries echoed through the corners of their rooms. You loved seeing tears fall down their cheeks as pain turned into pleasure until they couldn't tell the difference.
"Good boy.. just one more and you'll be free." You whispered in his ear cunningly. You were on top of him, freely guiding his body as you moved yours. His yogi was messily hanging from his body while your kimono fought to stay on your shoulders.
You used your blood demon art: Pearls of Restraint, which stuck to their name. They restrained his movement and ability to speak as you moved your hips in a quick and steady pace, chasing your own high as you ignored his pleas.
After a while you finally got more than a taste of your release. He immediately passed out from exhaustion. You fixed his yogi gently and put the covers over his body.
You stood up and fixed your kimono. You stood near the headrest and hovered your hand over his head, you made a motion, as if you were tugging on air. You pulled out a pearl from his head.
The pearl held his memories, you took the pearl and added it to your necklace—he was just one of the many men you've seduced into a soul-sucking night, literally.
You left his room through the window. You hid in the night sky, running swiftly yet quietly through the roofs to avoid getting caught. You ran to your room, in the most exclusive house in all of the entertainment district.
You disguised yourself as an oiran by day to avoid suspicion and to keep living amongst the male noblemen of Japan living in Kyoto, who—in your opinion looked better than the others.
Once you reached your room you were met with a calm glare, given by Muzan. "Darling~ you're finally back, come here." He spoke with calmly with a faint smile on his face as he patted his lap, insinuating that you should sit on him which you happily obliged to.
He stroked your hair gently, propping his chin on the top of your head as he held you tightly with his unoccupied hand as you sat on his lap. "Now then, let me ask you a question darling." He spoke, you hummed in response to let him know you were listening.
"What exactly do you want to achieve with sleeping with different men each night?" He asked, you took a moment to think of an answer but then realized he could read your mind so might as well just say what comes to mind.
You held your face as you kept an innocent smile on your face, "Survival, their souls and energy, if you're asking for practicality, my lord. Although if you meant to ask about my sexual desires, I love to see their reactions, it's quite.. adorable." You spoke happily as you looked up at him. It seemed like even the thought of their reactions turned you on.
Muzan found your answer amusing, he chuckled and continued to stroke your hair gently. "Adorable.." he whispered as he softly kissed the top of your head.
"Won't you be a good girl and show your lord this 'energy' you speak so highly of?" He spoke suggestively, he put you down in between his legs, "Go on my dear, I'm sure you have enough energy now." He held your cheek as he spoke, leaning down to you, offering you a soft kiss.
Spontaneous post: 07/09/23 23:34PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time
#muzan kibutsuji x you#muzan x you#muzan kibutsuji x reader#kimetsu muzan#muzan x reader#muzan x f!reader#muzan x succubus!reader#kny#kimetsu#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon x reader#kibtsuji x reader#muzan kibutsuji#muzan kibutsuji x f!reader#kibutsuji muzan x reader#kibutsuji muzan x f!reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu muzan kibutsuji#kimetsu kibutsuji muzan#kimetsu kibutsuji
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IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF THE MORNING
(not my gif!)
gerard way x gn!reader
summary: he's your roommate...but maybe he's more than that.
warnings: unedited writing, fluff, no use of [y/n]
note: so sorry i haven't posted in forever! i have a few requests and a few more half-complete drafts, so hopefully those should be up soon <3
you supposed there were worse roommates out there. actually, thinking about it, you realized how lucky you were.
you got along really well with your roommate, gerard. he’d been sharing an apartment for nearly two years now, and you were sure you knew him better than you knew yourself.
you know he forgets to take the coffee pods out of the keurig, and sometimes he leaves the heater running for too long.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen him sleep. sometimes you wonder if he’s a vampire or something, what with the scribbling coming from his room at all hours of the night.
to be fair… you’re hardly any better. you sleep little more than he does, when you do fall asleep it’s usually on the couch, and you leave the television on all the time.
you’re incredibly lucky, you realize. lucky that he’s as sweet as he is, bringing you coffee in the mornings, and stopping by your job on his commute. he’s even slipped a few drawings your way. some are drawings of you, others are silly little doodles he gives you when you’re having a bad day. sometimes, he’ll show you characters for the comics he’s working on, asking for your input.
you realize that you’re lucky that he’s so helpful, that he’s not a creep, that you both get along so well. you’re lucky that you’ve found a friend who will sit and watch television reruns with you when neither of you can fall asleep.
that’s why you slip a record under his door one night. you don’t know if he even likes sinatra, but you give it to him anyway. there’s no special occasion really, you just thought of him when you found in the wee small hours in the record store you visited. you don’t sign your name on the post it you stuck to it. all you write is “from one insomniac to another”. you feel embarrassed for some reason you can’t place, and something slithers in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have given it to him…maybe he doesn’t like sinatra. it’s too late now though, it’s already done.
☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎
it’s late one night…or early, depending on how you look at it. you’re tired, whatever movie you were watching forgotten and on mute. you can hear gerard milling around in the kitchen, you can smell the coffee he’s brewing. you’re tired, but you can’t fall asleep.
“thanks for the record” gerard called from the kitchen. “i really liked it”
you smile, one of those hazy tired smiles, the kind you do when you’re between being awake and asleep. “i didn’t know if you liked sinatra, i hope it’s ok”
you miss the way he grins at you, too busy yawning.
“it’s great i actually…” he walked off in the middle of his sentence, a habit you’d noticed he had, only to come back with the disk in his hands. “do you mind?”
it didn’t matter if you said no, he already turned to put it on, smiling back at you as he dropped the needle to the record.
“what are we watching?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. close enough to be touching you, but still far enough to give you space. it’s like a paradox, you think, but then you tell yourself to shut up. you’re too tired to know what you’re talking about.
“i dunno, i stopped paying attention.” your eyes flit to the movie playing on the television, watching the car chase for a moment before turning your attention back to him. “you’re going to keep yourself up all night drinking coffee this late.” you might have frowned at him if you weren’t too busy beaming.
he knew you were teasing, you could tell by the glint in his eye. “i just need a few finishing touches on my project and then i’m done.”
you didn’t say anything more for a while, taking a moment to take everything in. the record playing softly in the background as you curled closer to gerard. his head resting on yours as you listened to his breathing, memorizing the pace of his heart.
it’s quiet…intimate, and you’re tired. tired and happy.
“you tired?” he questions softly.
“a little,” you don’t know why you’re whispering.
“do you work tomorrow?”
“yeah, i open,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.
it’s quiet again, though this time it’s too quiet. you’re left with thoughts of gerard running through your head, and you wish that one of you would say something. you should be ashamed, you scold yourself, thinking of him the way you do when he’s sitting right next to you.
“what are you thinking about?” he prods gently. he’s soft with you, the way he always is, careful not to overstep with his questions.
“nothing really,” you lie, because you’d rather not risk what comfort you have now. “what are you thinking about?”
it seems like he didn’t expect the question to be turned back on him. he hesitates, and the silence is thick…too thick. his face is illuminated by the light from the tv, and he looks nervous. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite as terrified as he does now. the lighting shifts, and he’s blanketed in darkness again, but you notice something change in his eyes.
“i think i love you” he whispers against your ear.
you feel like you can’t breathe. you think you heard him wrong. you’re worried this is all a dream, a good dream, the kind that would leave you reeling when you wake up.
you want to hear him say it again.
you lean your head back against his shoulder, and he breathes out with a shudder. you watch the explosions on tv as your hand finds his. “i love you too.”
that’s it then, everything is out in the open. maybe you’re tired, but you sigh gently as he cups your face in his hands. thinking back, you can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him changed, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. he loves you and you love him. it’s surprisingly simple.
“can i…?” he doesn’t need to finish his question as you lean in closer to him. his breath is warm, and he smells like coffee and sleepless nights, and you’re waiting for him. your eyes are closed as you breathe him in, and they stay that way as he kisses you softly.
he’s…soft, softer than you imagine, and you can’t help but smile.
in the wee small hours of the morning, he is yours, and you are his.
#gerard way x reader#gerard way#reader insert#x reader#my chemical romance#my chem#mcr#mcr fanfiction#mcr fanfic#fanfic#sfw#prtygoth
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Life update (GOOD)<3
Heyy all! Just quickly dropping in with a lil note because I feel like I’ve been less focused on the writing-front as of recent, and more inactive here in general :’)
Thank you to everyone who’s been commenting on my writing and/or left me messages and prompts this year and recently, I absolutely adore you all. I have started many a draft based on the prompts I’ve gotten, and there’s plenty more I still want to get to. Thank you for sharing your ideas with me, they genuinely help me with motivation and writing (even though I haven’t managed to finish anything substantial in a while…)
I always say it but I really just appreciate you all a lot<3
As to why I have been more inactive responding or writing/updating in general, well…
Life has just been really, really good lately? Consistently. All the time.
I’m starting to tentatively trust that the worst is well over with my health stuff/treatment, and I’m feeling so much better compared to where I started that it baffles me daily?? I kinda feel like I have a new brain - and a new life. As in, I feel fully Alive for the first time since I was a kid, pretty much.
I have so much energy. / I just go and do things now. / I might actually be an extrovert??? (I’m having a culture shock rediscovering my own damn post-chronic health issue personality lol) / Anxiety and depression, who are they? Turns out I can feel a healthy amount of sad or upset, and it’s not all consuming. / I feel anger now! And it's great lmao! / Even bad days feel like decent days compared to my past days / I have always been interested in other people, but now I have the energy to show it better and engage, without burning out before I even open my yapper. / I feel like I’m connecting with people so much easier and better, and I’m having such a good time!!! / I’m actively trying to come up with new things to do with all the time and energy I now have. I’m still figuring this one out, because yeah, it’s a culture shock, after spending my whole adult life actively avoiding things just because I didn’t have the energy for anything (Tell me your hobbies and interests!! Indoor-outdoor-solo-social??) / I feel grounded in my own body and feel present / I finally feel a sense of ‘Future’ and I'm able look forward to things, instead of being in a constant survival mode and feeling stuck in it. / I’ve started to truly FEEL things, not just think things. I’ve started to want things. And not want things. And like things. And dislike things. Anything but the mild-indifference I am/was used to. / I can get through a work day without falling a sleep. Hell, I did a 13 hour shift the other week and still had the want and the energy to go for a run, after?! I felt possessed and a bit feral with power that day lmao! / AND SO MUCH MORE and BETTER and AAAAAAA
I tear up regularly because I suddenly out of nowhere realise ‘wow, what the fuck, I feel so great??’
I really thought ‘better’ wasn’t in the cards for me after living literal decades feeling ‘not-good-at-all’.
But mann, I think this is already better than the better I thought I’d never get to feel xx
#IN CONCLUSION#Life's been getting in the way#in the best way possible<3#I genuinely didn't know regular mundane existence could feel like this?#How rad!#I'm still constantly writing small stuff here and there so worry not hehe#I'm just kinda like....#BRB#finally Living life :')#xx
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need to talk ☆ juyeon
! : very suggestive,,,, i.e. making out,,, heh, idk word count but its v long definitely +1k
#: roommate!au, gn reader, ft. bestie Haknyeon, dance major!Juyeon
[💌: this was in my drafts for a while and then i got the sudden urge to finish it,, heh,, also i started the taxi driver drama with my friends just to see hyunwook oops]
"you don't have secret little makeout sessions with roommates you hate, y/n," Haknyeon tells you as he munches on your study snacks.
"and that's the problem. what the hell are we, then?" you ask your friend, who keeps stealing your food.
you and Juyeon moved into the same student house as freshman. he was quiet but polite, saying a quick 'hello' each time he'd see you in the kitchen or on his way in/out of the house. you were the same, too flooded with deadlines and the high school to university adjustment to be able to get past small talk.
also, Juyeon was just intimidating. despite always smiling at you so warmly, his attractive features and toned muscles that you sometimes spied on when he wore t-shirts were too... perfect. he was like a movie star and you didn't dare to get close to him...
until one fateful day.
you had an online exam to take, and the professor required students to take it either somewhere on campus (a designated exam room) or in a closed-off bedroom so you could show, with your webcam, that you were alone and had no way to cheat. you had rushed home after class because you wanted to take the exam in your room so you could secretly cheat, but realized you had accidentally handed your room keys instead of your house keys to your best friend just earlier.
"hey Hak, take these house keys and pick up a houseplant i bought from the student centre later and drop it off at mine? please? i won't be home at the time they told me to pick it up," you explained, pouting.
Hak had taken the keys with a sigh, immediately agreeing.
you wished he'd argued with you so you wouldn't be stuck out of your own bedroom right now.
"hey, everything okay?" Juyeon asked as he joined you in the kitchen. he poured himself a glass of water.
watching him attractively gulp it down, you had a thought.
"could i borrow your room for something?" you asked, checking the time above the stove.
10 minutes until the exam.
you quickly explained to Juyeon that you were locked out of your room, and without a moment of hesitation, he tidied up his room for you and took out his own laptop so he could study in the kitchen while you used his room. thanks to that, you were able to start and finish your exam on time.
once you were done and closed your laptop in relief, you were finally able to feel all the emotions your stress had suppressed. shock and gratefulness for Juyeon's sudden agreement to your request were just two, but as you looked around his room, you were filled with curiosity. who was this roommate of yours who had so many dancing awards? there was even a guitar, and you wondered if it was just for show or if he actually played it.
beside it, there was a notebook open to a random page. you didn't look on purpose, of course, but it just happened to be in your line of vision as you packed up your things.
11:04am - saw them grabbing something from the fridge.
5:26pm - they came home as i was leaving to go on a walk. they told me it was cold and to take a jacket with me.
3:53am - i think they're struggling to sleep. i can hear them watching a show. i hope they're okay.
the more you read, the more you realized all these entries were about you. why was he writing down all the times he saw you?
knock. knock. knock.
"is everything okay? are you done the exam?" Juyeon whispered outside the door, in case you might still be writing.
you scrambled to get away from the notebook as you pushed open his bedroom door, also pushing Juyeon in the process.
"my bad! i didn't know you were behind the door," you apologized.
Juyeon waved away your worries and asked how the exam went.
"good, good! maybe your room just has good luck."
Juyeon shook his head and said, "if it did, i wouldn't be failing two of my classes."
"what classes? you're failing?" you asked in shock.
"yeah.. they're some annoying electives," he said with a sigh.
"maybe we could study for them together?" you suggested after a brief silence.
"are you taking those classes, too?"
"no, but we can still study together! do you have time later today?"
"yeah, where should we study?"
"let's stay here. it's freezing out today!" you said, already shivering at the thought of having to step outside again.
Juyeon laughed and nodded in agreement. his smile was gorgeous, almost blinding.
"oh! someone named.. Hak? dropped off a plant before you got here. he told me to give it to you," Juyeon explained before handing you the plant.
"oh, great! thank you so much."
you held the plant in your hands, turning it and admiring it.
"is Hak a friend of yours, or?" Juyeon asked, cautiously.
"a friend. a really annoying one who actually did me a favour for once by bringing this plant," you told the tall boy with a grin.
Juyeon nodded and let you take the plant to your room.
-
after spending the next few hours wondering what the hell that notebook in Juyeon's room had been about, your thoughts were interrupted by hin knocking at your door.
"are you ready to study together now?" he asked.
you opened the door and told him that the kitchen bar table is the best place to study.
"easy access to study snacks and not so easy access to the tv... minimal distractions!" you cheered.
you didn't catch the way he chuckled at you and whispered that you were quite the distraction.
nonetheless, the two of you set down your things and got cracking. every so often, you would ask each other a question, even though you were studying completely different things. it was still helpful to think things through with someone else!
after just over two hours, though, the two of you were getting tired and hungry. Juyeon stretched beside you, lazy running his fingers through his dark hair.
"how does pizza sound?" he asked, already pulling out his phone.
"scrumptious!" you said, making him laugh.
as you waited for the pizza, you realized it actually didn't take much to make Juyeon laugh like that. he was constantly flashing you his teeth each time you said something, and you didn't know if you were a comedian or if he was just being nice.
"you're so funny, y/n," he said at one point, grasping onto the back of your chair for support as he laughed. you could feel his slender fingers against your back.
you cocked your head to one side. "am i?" you asked.
he nodded.
ding dong.
"pizza!" you cheered, running to the door.
Juyeon followed behind you and watched as you paid the pizza delivery person with the cash that you and Juyeon had put together.
you struggled to sort out the change while holding the pizza box, so Juyeon came forward to take the box from you, pressing his chest against your back during the process.
your breath hitched in your throat.
was he being really touchy or were you just sensitive?
the two of you opted to eat on the couch, turning on something random as you munched away. Juyeon brought over some alcohol and you also had your beverage of choice, and soon the two of you were talking about some intimate topics.
"i saw a guitar and dancing awards in your room... assuming from your elective, you must be some kind of arts major?" you asked.
Juyeon nodded. "dance is my major, i minor in guitar. music.. performing.. i love it a lot."
"you're so cool for that," you said, chewing on your pizza.
"i think you're cool," Juyeon replied.
when you looked at him, he was looking straight at you, a sincere smile on his lips. you were taken aback. then, you were reminded of the notebook in his room. you wanted to ask, but that would mean he'd know you were snooping around his room.
"what are you thinking about?" he asked.
the way he was sat on the couch in that white t-shirt, clinging onto his skin for dear life, showed all the curves and shadows of his muscles. you gulped unconsciously.
"um... just... things," you said.
"do you like plants, by the way?" he asked.
you appreciated the way he noticed you were uncomfortable with his question, so he changed the topic.
"i do! i have a whole collection in my room, wanna see?" you asked.
"definitely! wait let's clean up first, though. if Eric comes home to this mess, he'll kill us."
you laughed at how true Juyeon's comment was, and rushed to tidy things up. the way Juyeon neatly put the leftover pizza into reusabel containers for you both, labelled them with your names, and put them in the fridge was adorable. it made your heart swell.
"okay, now let's see those plants of yours," Juyeon said.
you felt a bit shy showing him your room, so you carefully watched his reaction as he looked around. he was smiling and scanning the place, as if trying to memorize it.
when you pointed to the plants by your window, he immediately broke into another one of his pretty grins.
"the pots have faces on them!" he noticed.
"of course they do! and they have names," you said, sharing the names of your plants with Juyeon. you had painted faces on them to give them character.
"oh my gosh, do you have a diary for your plants?" you heard him say, picking up the mini notebook where you document how your plants are doing.
"wha--no! give it back!" you whined, reaching for it.
of course, the boy was too tall. he watched in anusement as you struggled to reach for his hands. he had been so sweet and considerate before, why was he suddenly teasing you?!
then, you got an idea. you climbed onto your bed and reached for your notebook from there... but his grip on it was so strong that you ended up pulling the notebook and him towards you. and that's how you ended up with Juyeon on top of you, on your bed.
you expected him to roll off immediately, face red and scratching the back of his neck while apologizing. but he stayed there. he stayed, hands on either side of you, chest almost touching yours and faces just inches apart. your hearts raced. he scanned your face. his eyes went to your lips, then back up. lips, then back up.
he cleared his throat. "can i kiss you?"
your eyes widened. why did he want to kiss you? and why did you say yes? but you did.. and suddenly you felt a glimpse of heaven. his lips were warm, soft, and tasted not even like pizza but like strawberries... it was the gloss on his lips. he was wearing strawberry gloss!
now you weren't a pro kisser or anything but somehow.. his movements matched yours so well. and you felt so many butterflies that you were glad you were laying down, or else you would've fallen over.
once he pulled away, you watched his eyelids flutter open.
"w-was that okay?" he asked.
"yeah," you said while nodding.
"did i make you uncomfortable?" he asked. why was he being the sweetest damn man--
"not really," you replied. he nodded, sitting up and also helping you up.
now his face was red and he was scratching the back of his neck. "i'm sorry i took your plant journal. i just thought it was really cute."
"it's okay... um, i have an important call to make," you lied. "would you mind giving me some space?"
"sure!" Juyeon agreed. "don't forget about your pizza in the fridge."
he gently closed the door behind him and you fell back onto your bed, knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep that night. that kiss would be on replay in your brain.
-
after that night, you weren't purposely avoiding Juyeon. you just... felt shy and flustered whenever you saw him. he'd try to talk to you and you'd run away.
then, he managed to trap you.
"y/n, we need to talk," he said, placing both around around you on the fridge doors just as you were about to open them.
you turned, being met with his chest. you looked up to find an intense look on his face.
"okay.. let's talk," you said.
"are you avoiding me?" he asked.
"no."
he squinted his eyes.
"maybe... it's not on purpose, i swear! it just happened automatically!"
he sighed. "gosh, are you scared of me? did i.. traumatize you? y/n, i'm so sorry, even though i asked for your permission that wasn't right. i just--"
oh my god. why were you kissing him again? you didn't know. somehow at some point you just.. grabbed his cheeks and leaned in. and he was kissing back. and oh my god there were those butterflies again. your knees starting feeling weak, so Juyeon had to wrap an arm around your waist.
when you pulled away, you immediately started apologizing, but Juyeon silenced you with another kiss. he eyes on you made you melt... and you ran away. again.
and the next day, that's how you ended up meeting with Haknyeon at a café to tell him that Juyeon, a roommate you hate, has been kissing you. having makeout sessions with you. why did you lie and say you hated Juyeon? maybe it was to cover up the fact that you were very much starting to like him. you were a little ashamed because all it took was a few kisses and one study session.
"this is either an enemies to lovers or friends with benefits. but you're not friends?" Haknyeon said, sipping his drink.
"okay.. actually i don't hate him. maybe i'm starting to like him," you finally confessed.
"oh my god, okay. so now we just need to figure out if he likes you too, or if this is just some... friends with benefits? thing," he said.
you also told Haknyeon about Juyeon's notebook, and he said that you should definitely find a way to ask about it.
"go into his room for something and then grab the notebook out of curiosity or something. see what happens!"
so now, you had a plan. no more running away.
-
when you got back home, Juyeon was in his room. his door was slightly opened and you could see his back as he sat at his desk. you sucked in a deep breath through your teeth and slowly made your way towards him, trying to think of what to say.
"Juyeon, can i come in?" you asked at the door.
you couldn't see the way his face immediately lit up as he heard your voice. he turned to you with a more serious look, gesturing for you to come in.
"what's up?" he asked.
you sat on his bed and saw the notebook at the end of his bed, sitting on a dresser. almost naturally, you reached it for, Juyeon's hand quickly meeting yours to stop you. he took the notebook for himself, clutching onto it tightly.
"i asked what's up, y/n."
"oh, um.. honestly, nothing. i just.. wanted to come in."
Juyeon's expression softened. he turned the notebook in his large hands.
"well... you're here."
"what's that, though?" you asked, pointing to the notebook.
"this?" he asked in return, holding it up.
"it's... inspiration for songs for one of my electives."
was he keeping tabs on you in there to write songs about you?
"can i see?" you asked.
Juyeon shook his head, his hair wooshing around.
you pouted and Juyeon sighed.
"you'll.. think it's weird because... it's filled with things about you," he confessed.
"huh?" you were taken aback by his honesty. and even more taken aback when he handed you the notebook.
his face was dusted red and he looked shy as he motioned for you to look through it.
"okay, y/n. i'll just be honest, because it wasn't right of me to.. come onto you without making my feelings clear. i may have had a slight crush on you for a while, now. and these feelings kept developing and after studying with you i realized i really like you. it's all moving so fast, i know, but.. that's how i feel. i wanted to write a song for you and use that to confess but.. i guess that'll have to wait," he explained with a smile.
what followed was silence, and you decided to break it by being just as honest as Juyeon, since he deserved it.
"Juyeon.. i think.. no, i'm pretty sure i'm starting to like you, too. and i'm sorry for being so bad at acknowledging these feelings, too."
Juyeon smiled down into his lap, glad that you weren't weirded out by the boy or anything. he carefully reached of for one of your hands. "can i take you out on a proper date sometime, then?"
you nodded. "let's call it a study date but do everything except for study!"
Juyeon laughed and you fluttered. yep, you were definitely falling for your roommate.
#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#juyeon imagines#juyeon scenarios#juyeon fluff#juyeon x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop fluff#kpop au#roommate!juyeon#juyeon x you#tbz imagines#tbz scenarios#tbz fluff#tbz juyeon imagines#tbz juyeon scenarios#the boyz juyeon
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Winner Gijinka redesign! I like to think they swap between the skirt and pants depending on the challenge.
Uh I don’t know why I thought their old design was ever okay to bestow on human eyes!
Cut below the entire design process (it’s gonna be long)
So I knew immediately after finishing my Loser design I wanted Winner to be the opposite of Loser. Which ment no warm colors, no vest sleeveless thing, no sunglasses, esc. I wanted them to be 80s inspired to match my Loser’s 70s Inspiration! I wanted them to parallel Loser by being so different but the same at the same time. So I wanted to do alot.
I think very clearly with the first ever winner draft (on the right) I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING LOL. I really don’t like it now looking back and it really doesn’t feel like Winner to me. I think just to show how old this is, this was before I even made established age headcanons so I also had no idea how older I wanted Winner to be.
That age headcanon list will probably be shown at another time, I think I showed it once on instagram after somebody asked.
The one on the left I did right after I finished my Loser design and oh my god I also really hate it looking back. I had this idea that Winner’s hair could be the opposite of Loser’s hair where instead of being from like brown to blond and lighter blond it would be the opposite and oh it looked horrible to me.😭
I think also at this point Winner was still just black and not biracial
Now here are what I would call my “Stuck in design hell”. Characters I struggle with immensely when creating a design I think fits/I personally also like for them. It doesn’t mean I have no ideas, some of them I know exactly what I want to do with them but can’t figure out how to emulate it. I ended up abandoning Winner for awhile because they were giving me so many problems because I set so many restrictions for myself which weren’t exactly working.
So then we got this.. I tried to force myself to finalize their design on the spot… bad idea.. worse idea I could ever fathom. I don’t like any of these designs and plus the way I draw now has changed since I made these designs. I had an idea that Winner’s arm could also be translated as one of those super cool arm grabber toys from the 80s which I don’t know, maybe I’ll bring back?? Depends on how I feel about it after focusing on writing more Winner central stories and exploring Winner more as a character and talking to people who really like Winner.
I should also note the inspo for Winner in the fluffy coat and overalls came from the fact that when I was in the movie theater, I saw a kid wearing black overalls and periwinkle jacket and went “HOLY SHIT WINNER TPOT.”
Somewhat unrelated but in this design Winner also became Biracial because @/exitstudent was like “Oh Winner feels afro-Latino to me” so I changed my headcanon almost immediately. This is why I probably shouldn’t have put my race hc chart out so early because my opinions get swayed so easily PLUS I changed a few things around. (Nothing to major, Snowball and Spongey are Wasian now, Donut is Dutch, put Bomby back in Blasian, Gaty is Finnish)
I also had the idea that instead of Winner having highlights (because I highly doubt Winner would go out of their way to highlight their hair) their greying really early on due to stress and poor genetics probably. Another cool parallel to Loser about how Loser’s hair is something he essentially paid for Winner in a way earned theirs. Loser also bleaching pretty much all their hair would also be a cool symbolism for how he’s not the truest to himself while Winner’s still having almost all their natural hair color is symbolism for them being way more true to themself. But that’s for another day to explore.
I tried to interpret Winner’s shape as being kind of like fuzzy fleece on their jacket and I tried to make this work so bad but I really shouldn’t have. I was just all over the place with the colors too.
After design a bunch of the other characters and finding and discovering new ways i like drawing i quickly figured out why I was hating Winner so badly.
It was everything 😭
So after actually after researching 80s fashion instead of half assing it to make it obvious. I drew up these two concepts.
My first realization was “Wow that fleece is ugly as shit.” So I realized I had to stop trying making the fleece work, kudos to anyone who can. But away from the negatives, I really did love the big black Jacket and the legwarmers (I am a sucker for leg warmers so once I put them in them, it was over for me) Something about the headband also struck me because previously I out a strict “no head accessories rule” but honestly? It really just had to be not sunglasses so the headband stayed.
With some color rework and some help from my qpp (Shout out to her, she doesn’t use social media.) We were finally able to get the current design shown!
I guess if I learned anything from this, people should make gijinkas also based off people they know and see in day to day life. Some of my favorite gijinkas are based off people I know. Like Match being an Afro-Chilean Jew is because my friend who actually introduced me to BFDI was a huge match fan, and an Afro-Chilean Jew so I was inspired to make Match look almost identical to them. With Winner I pulled inspiration from alot of popular Black celebrities in the 80s and Chile again because of said friend 80s.
Thanks for reading this whole kuffuffle here’s some bonus doodles!
Yes Winner is going to crush Loser and Clock, stop them.
The last winclock one may or may not be a reference to something.
Now who’s next? Honestly just whoever people want a ref of next, I think I’m a little burnt out from doing now 59 characters and drafting more currently I think I need a break. Although I’m definitely gonna redesign Clock’s outfit, I’m really starting to dislike it. Until next time bye bye!!
#bfb#bfdi#tpot#battle for dream island#battle for bfdi#battle for bfb#the power of two#my art#tpot winner#winner tpot#bfdi winner#winner bfdi#neps.pawprints#bfdi gijinka#gijinka#humanization
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Overheard AU.
This is a very rough draft of an AU I wrote ages ago but haven't polished. Thought I might post it to see thoughts.
Summary: You really shouldn't talk about secrets in an open area like the street.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
It starts with Tanaka Jin. He’s nothing special. He’s just a man with a sick child who is a fan of All Might. He’s lost his job and he’s struggling to find a new one when he barely has any worthwhile skills. He has a license for Quirk use given he can’t turn his off, but most are weirded out by his ability to be able to tell exactly what you want to eat.
He’s nothing special and when he sees All Might saving a kid from a villain made of sludge he stops to point his camera at the man. When he sees the hero run off, he follows. He wants his son to be happy, stuck in the hospital all day. Maybe a picture or video of the man a little closer will take his son’s mind off the bills the boy knows is piling up.
What he finds is All Might deflating and revealing a secret to a young boy.
He gets it on film.
Tanaka isn’t a bad man. He’s nothing special
But he’s a desperate man.
He would delete the video but he thinks of his son in the hospital, ill and not getting better. He thinks of the fact he lost his job. He thinks of his dead wife. He thinks of the fact the bills are getting higher and the fact he has very little in savings.
He’s not a bad man. Just desperate.
Later it’s what prevents him from being punished with more than probation.
-0-
The news doesn’t run the video for a week. They want to check and double-check it, make sure it’s real.
It is and it runs on a Friday morning.
All Might learns about it when his PR agent blows up his phone, screaming. He watches it as his agent rants.
“I need to go.” He tells her and she stops.
“It’s true isn’t it.”
He doesn’t answer, just hangs up and runs.
His agent, a young woman named Akiko who refuses to use her last name and has a Quirk that has her gain energy from the sun, swears. Loudly and colorfully in seven different languages before she grabs her laptop.
Fuck you Yagi, she thinks before she throws herself into work.
Meanwhile, Izuku and his mother stare at the TV. It’s a day off of school thanks to a villain attack- though online schooling was there as was common for those incidents- and Izuku had just returned from his run when the video played.
His mother watches and then turns to him. He stared at her.
“... I believe in you.” She says and she means it even as her heart screams and her worries fill her. She believes in him. She knows he wants to be a hero, knows he’d claw and climb his way to it and she knows he’ll be hurt.
A Quirk will help him.
Izuku breaks down in his mother’s arms as she hugs him.
Toshinori shows up and knocks on the door while Izuku begins a light workout, worried about the media. Inko lets him in and they sit down to speak, all three.
The secret is out and Inko prepares for a press conference with Akiko while Toshinori calms Izuku and promises he won’t change his mind even if others offer.
It’s the start of a future with the two women threatening the men in their lives, while the men leave the women to their plotting.
It’s safer that way.
-0-
The press conference takes place a week and two days after the video is released. All Might stands there with Izuku by his side, both dressed nicely.
All Might deflates a minute in and listens to the yelling.
“Please, calm down,” he asks and they listen, waiting. “It is true. My Quirk is known as One for All and is able to be passed from holder to holder as a sacred torch. And yes, I am going to be passing it down due to an injury that has severely limited me these past years.” Izuku is shaking beside him but manages to give a small smile to the crowd. “Young Midoriya Izuku is my chosen successor and has started his training already.”
“What’s his original Quirk?!” Shouts a voice and Toshinori makes a choice. It wasn’t bad when he was young but he’s heard things, seen how other pros wrinkle their noses and make comments, he’s seen the rise in statistics.
He doesn’t know but he’s aware.
“Like I am, Midoriya is biologically Quirkless.” He speaks and he sees the young boy turn to stare while everyone falls silent. “Due to this, we need to do a very hard workout for him to be able to earn the Quirk before the entrance exams.” He continued, ignoring the questions as he gave a small overview of his Quirk, admitting it also stockpiled Quirks and that was why he could hover for long periods of time. He spoke fondly of his mentor before he finally opened the floor to questions.
“Why chose Midoriya? Is it due to your shared origins?” Asks one.
“I chose him due to him showing me what it means to be a hero again. He inspired me to push beyond my time limit to save someone and I knew I had found my successor in a young teen who would run to help someone no matter what.” Vague and simple.
“Midoriya, what do you think of this?”
“... uh it’s a dream come true. I’ve always admired All Might and training with him is amazing.” Young Midoriya says and Toshinori smiles at him before the questions continue.
“All Might! Why not give it to someone with a Quirk?” Toshinori wants to growl. He wants to glare.
Instead, he lets Midoriya speak.
“Well as he said it can also potentially stockpile Quirks to. It makes sense to occasionally have a Quirkless successor to keep them low. Too many can potentially destroy a body due to the unstable factor of the Quirks.” Midoriya offers.
“Are you worried about Quirk Singularity?” Asks another paper. Midoriya perks up so Toshinori lets him continue.
“Oh! Well potentially? It makes sense but that’s just one theory and while it is possible that Quirks are outgrowing humans, human adaptability means that most likely we will create things to help us. Most likely support gear or the such. Though there is also the Wave Theory that shows some promise but then if that happens we don’t need to worry about to many Quirks stockpiling.”
“Wave Theory?” Asks a few reporters. Izuku blinks and then continues.
“The Wave Theory was proposed a few years back. Basically, the idea is that various myths, legends, and folklore are actually signs of Quirks. A scientist proposed the Wave Theory as a theory in which every few hundred or so years humans gain powers for a period of time before they vanish.” Midoriya explains. “It makes sense when you look at it. Magic and accusations of witchcraft could have been Quirks, while various sightings of dragons, elves and so on could have been mutations…”
“... why has this theory never been known before?!?” Asks a reporter who has pulled out a different notebook to write this down. Midoriya’s face falls.
“The one who did the research and created the theory was a Quirkless scientist who was murdered. No effort to find her killer was ever found and because she was Quirkless her research was never believed.” Midoriya says bluntly. Silence fills the room. “Her name was Dr. Kennedy Johnson and she was American.”
The conference ends on a quiet note. Toshinori can see their eyes.
They’re thinking statistics themselves.
He places a hand on Midoriya’s shoulders and the boy smiles at him.
He smiles back.
-0-
At UA, a teacher without a class watches the conference and sighs.
“You want me to help?” He asks his boss and the white rodent laughs.
“Oh yes. He needs a helping hand I think.” Aizawa Shouta groans but smirks to himself.
This could be interesting.
-0-
Now that the secret was out, now that people spoke about it to each other, heroes began picking up patrols. They made sure to be seen, made sure to do their job.
Some so they could rise in the ranks. Some because a part of them looks at All Might with a hole in his side and still working to his limit and feel guilt.
A few because they recognize that boy and feel guilt as well.
One because he’s angry and bitter and hates the fact that he will never beat All Might now. That everything was for nothing and that he had done what he’d done for nothing.
But they patrol. And some make sure to swing by where the tiny successor goes to school and lives, to keep him safe.
The police do too. They watch and keep an eye out. This boy will receive a Quirk bigger than him. He’s a successor to an empire. He cannot fall.
Teachers at Izuku’s school begin treating him differently. They try to win his favour. Izuku ignores it, not caring.
It’s only now they care? Only now they want him to like them?
He gets angry and rants to his mom, rants to All Might about it, and both promise to come down hard on Aldera. Just not yet. Izuku is too busy, too focused. He can’t have a scandal now.
Pity he won’t get a choice.
-0-
Bullies don’t go away because someone becomes popular. Some do but others, others angry that the Quirkless freak, the Quirkless waste of space is getting a Quirk, getting what they should have…
They don’t.
They plan it out, and approach Bakugou Katsuki for help.
Katsuki is an angry child. He’s angry and bitter and he’s got a complex about being the best. He has to be the best. Deku, stupid Deku, has always looked down on him he knows this-
He ignores the whispers he’s an idiot and he had fallen from a high spot and of course someone would check on him-
He doesn’t think, not really. In another life he would throw himself at a boy his first day of school, risking it all. In another life he would ignore orders not to use gauntlets that could kill during an exercise because he thinks Deku looks down upon him. In another life he would push and push and force himself into something because he wants to know the secret. All his life consequences have missed him due to his Quirk, due to the fact no one cares about the Quirkless boy. Katsuki is a genius, but he is still a boy confined by his own thoughts and beliefs.
Is it any surprise he joins a plan to beat down Deku? Any surprise he wants Deku to know his place?
They corner Deku after school, right behind it. A teacher sees but looks away. They agree with the boys. Others deserve it more.
The groups only can do a bit of damage before a grey scarf is tanking them away, as wood grabs them and as a voice shouts.
“Don’t you move, I’m going to be looking into why a teacher let this happen.”
Aizawa looks down at the young boy and sees another in his place and knows in his bones that he won’t let this kid fail, even as he drags away the boys, grabbing the teacher who looks pale.
He will make sure this kid succeeds.
No one notices the reporter until the next day when the papers scream:
ALL MIGHT’S SUCCESSOR BEATEN WHILE TEACHER WATCHES.
It’s a storm and a half. Aldera is torn apart and every way they had treated Izuku is released by the young secretary who had cared for him and tried to help.
People are asked opinions and heroes glare at the school. They snarl out opinions and spit out their thoughts. UA releases a statement they will help with the lawyers if needed as does a hundred different schools. Some offer to have Izuku complete his final year with them.
It’s a mess. More so when Endeavour speaks.
“Endeavour!” One reporter manages to corner him. “What are your thoughts on the Aldera situation?”
“... one of my sons is Quirkless. The entire reason he is homeschooled is to prevent things like Aldera from happening to him.” Endeavour spits out. “Places like Aldera are cesspools.”
“Why didn’t anyone know about this?” Asks the reporter. “Why hide your-“
“My wife wanted to.” Endeavour snaps. “If you want I can release the videos of our discussions about it. My wife is mentally unwell and struggled with the idea of a Quirkless child. She loves him dearly but…” he sighs. “I have no care but due to her place in a mental institution I have kept silent so it would not set her back. With all this going on though I am speaking out about it. Being a bigot is disgusting.” It’s all he says and he leaves, unaware of the fact his children had watched and now are ripping things apart in confusion, only one knowing anything and looking at her brothers in worry.
Another watches and bares his teeth in anger.
But for Izuku the words of a pro hero known to be a traditionalist, known to be a jerk, known to be unpleasant… his words affect everyone too. If Endeavour thinks it’s disgusting…
Then he knows they truly are wrong. Everyone.
-0-
“He wasn’t the worst.” Izuku speaks. He’s sitting in a courtroom, a day off from his training to participate in the lawsuit. It had suddenly been put in court fast. Very fast but given that All Might’s successor was involved, was it any wonder. “Kaa… Bakugou wasn’t the worst.”
“Oh?” Asks the lawyer presenting the schools. “According to the teachers he-“
“He was the most verbal.” Izuku agreed, cutting him off. “He was the most verbal. But I’ve only known him to use his Quirk twice on me. Every other student did it often.” Izuku stands to show off his arms, detail a kid with spikes who would lean in to close on purpose in front of the teacher, speaking of one of Bakugou’s friends with long fingers who would shove them down his throat to choke him out. Bakugou would beat him up but rarely use his Quirk- not after he had been scolded harshly for using explosives on others. “I remember one time a student put spider lilies on my desk and a teacher pulled out a vase. Bakugou grabbed both and exploded them.”
“Sources say he told you to jump off a roof and pray for a Quirk in the next life,” the lawyer presses.
“And a teacher put a knife on my desk after a Quirkless girl slit her wrists,” Izuku says and the lawyer stops, stares and turns. Said teacher has gone very pale in the crowd.
Izuku is only kind of amused when the lawyer right there resigns, stating there is a limit and they crossed it, agreeing to take any penalties offered.
It’s a pretty clear victory for Izuku and his side, and they walk out without a backward glance.
As well, Izuku had managed to get something for Ka… Bakugou.
His mom told him that she didn’t think he should keep using his nickname and Izuku had to agree. It had stopped being a friendly thing years before and holding on did no good- not after he decided to beat him up simply for getting a possible Quirk.
Bakugou would be allowed to attend a hero school under probation. If he attends UA with Izuku they would not be allowed in the same class or be allowed to fight against each other. He would be monitored.
It’s enough. Izuku hopes it’s enough.
Meanwhile, the hero who had helped him during the beating is still around. He’s Eraserhead and Izuku is so excited to meet him.
He’s the one who comes up with a plan for schooling. Izuku is homeschooled now and spends most days on the beach. Eraserhead is often with him shouting out lessons or using the trash to teach. Sometimes other heroes come by to help.
Izuku is taught by a variety of heroes as he works and he finds himself thriving where before he would not.
“It takes a village,” he overhears his mother say to Eraserhead. “Thank you all.”
“He’s a good kid from what we’ve seen. He’s inheriting a big legacy.”
“Yes. Yes, he is.”
-0-
Izuku is given the hair the day of the regular exam- though he’s not taking it. That had been discussed with Nezu, Eraserhead, Yagi and multiple others who all agreed he would need more training before using his Quirk. Instead, he was to take the recommendation exam- which was a giant race through an obstacle field. He wouldn’t need a Quirk, just his mind for that.
He takes the hair and swallows, making a face. It’s just him and All Might, the others having agreed not to show up.
“I’m proud of you,” Yagi tells him. “You’ve come far.” Izuku hums and looks over the beach, cleaned and clear.
“...Thanks All Might,” he tells his hero. The man laughs.
“Nothing of it young Midoriya.”
Izuku will go to UA as the successor of All Might.
He wonders what the world had in store for him.
#bnha#bnha au#boku no hero academia#izuku midoriya#yagi toshinori#various others#bakugou faces consequences
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Imagine Geto Confessing His Feelings On A Mission Assignment
Geto Suguru X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Suggestive themes, Gojo is a meddler
Word Count: 1k
(A/N:) With this I have officially made 300 posts! Oh my goodness how time flies! I write a lot for Gojo and Nanami that I haven't written anything for the Geto fangirls. So this is my gift to y'all! I do have an imagine in the works for several of the JJK guys so keep an eye out! I hope to start work on that soon! It's in my drafts I just have to find time to write it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
You walked between Geto and Gojo down the side streets of Tokyo. Scrolling through your phone, you ignored the guys surrounding you while they shoved one another playfully. Gojo had a mischievous gleam in his bright blue eyes and Geto could only glare at his best friend. He regretted the day he had confessed the way he felt about you to the tall white haired sorcerer. And you oblivious to his feelings thought of him as a really good friend and fellow Jujutsu High student. Shoko had stayed behind on this particular mission, but little did you know it was Gojo's doing that you joined him and Geto.
"Let's check out this crepe place when we're done," you said showing both of them your phone screen. They weren't paying attention, still shoving at one another. You rolled your eyes elbowing both Gojo and Geto in the ribs. This time they started behaving themselves holding their throbbing sides.
"The curse should be right around here," Gojo said his eyes roving around.
Geto shrugged, hands in his pockets as he stood close by your side. You still weren't paying that much attention when Gojo started to walk off.
"I'll go this way and look around, you two go that way," he said pointing towards a park.
Geto glared at his friend who wiggled his fingers in reply. Geto flipped him off, causing Gojo to just laugh obnoxiously and continue onwards.
"Hey shouldn't we stick together," you argued, worried at what trouble Gojo could get himself into.
"I'll be fine," he chuckled. "I'm the strongest after all."
"More like hard headed egotistical jerk," you grumbled, causing Geto to snort.
"Guess it's just me and you now," Geto said before taking off walking. He lumbered along slowly, letting you catch up as he kept his hands stuck deep in his pockets.
"I guess Gojo will never change," you sighed.
"Of course not," Geto rolled his eyes. "From here on out he'll just get worse."
"Don't worry Geto," you grinned patting his head while you both walked side by side, "I'll kick him really hard if he gets too out of control."
He laughed, the overwhelming urge to take your hand making Geto keep his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He kept having flashbacks to the first day you arrived at the school. You had never been among people that could see the things you could. It had frightened you and you found safety to see that you weren't the only one. Then your ability began to flourish and Geto was happy that you had become so comfortable with them. He also remembered how quickly he had become enamored by you. Of course Gojo had been the first to notice and wouldn't let Geto live it down, or forget it. He was bored with watching his dark haired friend not taking a chance on you. So Gojo had taken it upon himself to give Geto his chance, and this moment was of course one of his meddling schemes. Deep in thought, Geto didn't realize that he had been talking to him.
"Sorry?"
"First Gojo and now you are ignoring me," you pouted. "Do I have a disease or something? Am I even here?"
"N-no," Geto stammered. "You're perfect."
You flushed bright pink and he did the same when he realized what he just said.
"I mean...you're fine the way you are. And that you're amazing...and I'm sorry," Geto wanted to run and drown himself in the pond you both were walking around.
Seeing Geto so flustered honestly stunned you. It was sweet but it brought a side you never got to witness. Giving his arm a gentle squeeze, he quieted down, eyes wide and cheeks still blushing bright red.
"Thank you Geto," you soothed. "You don't have to explain yourself."
He sighed, cursing his best friend who had to be laughing his butt off right now while he took out the cursed spirit and Geto dealt with this. He had decided eventually he would tell you how he felt, but not anytime soon. So now Gojo's meddling had him confessing way sooner than he had wanted. Biting the bullet Geto took your hand and led you away from the crowds of people. Finding a quiet bench by a stream that fed into the pond he helped you to sit before he took the spot beside you. Looking down at his shoes instead of you, his stray lock of hair dangled down on one side of his face. You wanted to reach out and tuck it back behind his ear.
"Suguru?"
"I like you," he blurted. "I've liked you since the first time I saw you. I wasn't going to tell you but Gojo has been trying to force me into giving in and tell you. You weren't supposed to go on this mission, just me and him, and he talked them into letting you go. All because he wanted me to have some time alone with you."
You sucked in a breath, stunned that this was actually happening. The Suguru Geto was confessing and it had you giddy.
"I'm sorry for shoving this all on you. I didn't want to strain our friendship. I could live with you never knowing how I felt as long as we could remain friends."
You tapped Geto's shoulder and he looked up. The smile on your face had him realizing how much you cared about him.
"I am so relieved." Reaching out you tucked his hair back behind his ear. "I thought I was the only one who felt that way."
Geto melted, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you into a hug. You returned it gladly.
"I guess this means Gojo won," you whispered and Geto laughed.
"I say we let him guess if anything happened and refuse to tell him anything," Geto replied. You nodded eagerly. If you both could torture the sorcerer who seemed to know everything, you chalked it up as a win, and knowing how Geto felt about you was an added bonus. Geto suddenly stiffened before he stroked your cheek. He waited to see if you pulled away but you leaned into his touch. Unconsciously he leaned inward, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. You decided in that moment as Geto's soft lips caressed yours, that when you both were done torturing Gojo you would thank him. Because of him, the man you dreamed about had finally become yours and you couldn't be happier.
#Geto Suguru X Reader#Suguru Geto X Reader#Geto Suguru / Reader#Suguru Geto / Reader#Jujutsu Kaisen#Geto Suguru#JJK#Jujutsu Kaisen Imagine#Geto Suguru Imagine#Not My Gif#My Writing
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20 questions for fic writers
tagged by @screamlet
1. How many works do you have an AO3? 14 (and, full disclosure, all but some of the tumblr fics are with @liminalmemories21)
2. What's your total AO3 word count? 151,628
3. What fandoms do you write for? 9-1-1
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? In order: Awful quiet here since love fell asleep (9-1-1, the break up, make up fic), Atlas (bound) (9-1-1, the Buckley parents are trash fic), Baggage that goes with mine (9-1-1, Tommy begins), (I'm in love) but I do not speak the language (9-1-1, the relationship discovery one), and I'll cover you (9-1-1, part II after Baggage, when Buck and Tommy get a dog).
5. Do you respond to comments? I really try. @liminalmemories21 is much better at it than I am, but I do always intend to because each comment is my best beloved.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Erm, we don't really write angsty things? Awful quiet, Atlas and Inside, You've Got Heaven and Earth all start angsty, but don't end there?
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh, god, uh, probably What's with today, today? Mostly just because making them all librarians on Stuffie Day itself was an indulgent turducken of a dessert.
8. Do you get hate on fics? not so far, thankfully
9. Do you write smut? a hundred percent more than I ever imagined
10. Do you write crossovers? I drop them in Lim's chat all the time but one has never stuck. Like, the one from this week was Wolfram and Heart is based in LA and reopens and... I don't know, Lindsey sticks around with his evil hand? THNK OF BUCK AND FREAKING OUT WITH THE CURSES AND THE RESEARCH SPIRALS AND...
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Err, all of the recent ones because I am nothing (fandom-wise) without Lim
14. What's your all time favorite ship? I have no answer for this. I read like, a decade's worth of Stiles/Derek and literally never watched an episode of the show, but I watched SO MUCH Stargate because John/Rodney, my beloveds. I am still a sucker for a good Arthur/Eames. I would bow down if people brought back silver foxes Fraser/RayK. It's hard to have favorites after over 30 years in fandom.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Lim and I poke things to death, and definitely don't post a lot of them because we can't imagine things not being done before we put them out in the world -- see the Merlin fic of epicness that we started way over a decade ago and still sits in our google docs.
16. What are your writing strengths? I also think this is a thing best answered by others, like hi, Lim, how do I help? I honestly think I'm a better editor than writer? I'm not good about setting scenes, but I'm pretty good about taking drafts and massaging them?
17. What are your writing weaknesses? I always want things to feel more lived in than I feel I can accomplish on my own.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I speak english and bad english, so I am terrible about this, but I totally understand that sometimes its warranted.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Popslash and Smallville, and hi, yes, I disappeared for two decades.
20. Favorite fics you've written?
Awful quiet did exactly what I wanted that fic to when we set out to write it, and while maybe I wish some of the OCs were handled better/differently, I'm still happy with how we got from the beginning to end.
The What Binds series definitely put Tommy in a place and time, and there's a reason there's four stories worth of it (hi, I'm super proud of the detail about Tommy losing his virginity to Dave Matthew Band because, come on, people).
I know that Inside, You've Got Heaven and Earth didn't really hit with people, but it addressed something I wanted to fiddle with for Buck and Tommy, and Lim was a trooper for going there with me.
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