#I... issuing a public apology for this man's Existence

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Harrison, he mouths to himself in the mirror. The bathroom is filmy or maybe it’s him—he’s in chrysalis, bloated in his own becoming or suffocation or whatever the fuck. The thing is, he doesn’t need a god and might be a king, but he’s also a man with a pounding headache. He tries again, his mouth shifty like cornmeal, like ash: Harrison. What do kings do when they get migraines? Buy a donut? Eat a saint? His eye sockets are vacant, his cuticles spinning into one another, hair sentient from the pool. Harrison. The walls smell like Jeremiah’s hair gel, Jeremiah’s fingerprints, Jeremiah’s latest cologne. In a minute, the paint could start peeling and Harrison could pick up the chips, tack them to his jaw like they’re gold stars or little HELLO my name is stickers. HELLO my name is, HELLO my name is, HELLO my name is. Harrison. Harrison. Harrison. He kneads his cheeks like he’s sourdough, pinches his eyebrows, goes: Harrison, sticks his fist in his mouth, tries again—Harrison. Jeremiah knocks on the door, says something about leaving soon, a friend waiting on them.

if u were a king and u had a migraine would u buy a donut harrison wants to know

[jonathansthickthighs]

My Sweetest Heart 5: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji 𝐱 Reader (Toji’s POV)

Description: You had a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, toxic behavior, DARK CONTENT, GORE (slight), murder, jealousy, possessive behavior, stalking, desperate toji, slight smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), mentions of baby trapping, breeding kink?, daddy kink, masturbation, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s)

A/N: Greetings, reader. I wanna thank you for all the love you showed this mini series, I really really appreciate it <3. Without further ado, here is the final chapter! It’s a little different as it is written completely in Toji’s POV and it’s also slightly darker that the previous ones, so read at your own risk! Hope you enjoy :)

Italics = flashbacks

NOT EDITED!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

You��re mine.

The instant my eyes landed on you, I knew that was my destiny— the sole purpose for my existence in this floating sphere we call Earth. From that fateful night onward, I became aware. I became aware of what a man truly in love is capable of. All things suddenly made sense, and I felt everything. The gentle breeze caressing my skin was almost like an imitation of your soft hand running through my tough-to-the touch skin. The sun kissing my face with the same passion as your tender lips. Those romance movies and novels I once detested now played endlessly in my mind, imagining it was us, living our own life as a happy couple.

You make me vulnerable.

Vulnerability used to be such a foreign feeling to me, not even experiencing it as a child. It makes me feel weak— you make me weak. But I’ve learned to accept this newfound fragility because I love you. This vulnerability, it’s truly a disconcerting sensation, like exposing an unarmored heart to the world— to you. You’re my world. You’ve taught me more about life than I could have ever imagine, something I wouldn’t expect from someone so young. At your age, I was nothing more than an ignorant boy who didn’t understand or cared about anything. Yet, in your presence, I’ve come to see vulnerability as a strength. Loving you has taught me that this feeling is not about weakness, but about trust and intimacy. Allowing you to see the depths of my soul and getting the same in return from you has made me find solace in those moments. I now embrace the beautiful feeling of vulnerability because thanks to you, it makes me feel like the strongest man alive.

I know I have one or two… loose screws.

I can be an incredibly jealous and territorial man when it comes to you. Insecurity floods my mind at any minimum interaction you have with a man, in particular men your age. No matter how much you reassured me on your desire to only be with me and my age not being an issue to you, there was always a little voice in my head that made me erupt. I know you had lost count of how many times I had caused a scene in public, getting all up in the other man’s face with threats of violence. You’d barely manage to drag me with out of the place, apologizing profusely as you begged the owners to not call the police on your problematic boyfriend. Remember those times? I’m deeply sorry, sweetheart, I’m aware of how much I embarrassed you. It wasn’t my intention, but each occasion I would spot a man eyeing you up, I couldn’t control myself from going ballistic. You are every man’s dream, a vision of beauty too pure for this ugly world. That’s why I can’t let them have you— I’m just trying to protect you.

Even when you didn’t like situations I put you in, I am certain you loved the aftermath. Pistoling my thick cock in your heavenly hole, claiming what’s mine always made my jealousy and insecurities dissipate. Your scream and moans only confirmed how much you enjoyed giving yourself to me. Make up sex with you was so intense and passionate, it almost made me want to start fights with you constantly. Your slick juices coating my cock was evidence of your arousal. You loved make up sex as much as I did. I can’t help myself from remembering how many times you moaned into my ear that me you belonged only to me, making my heart leap in joy. I stay up night after night reminiscing in those precious moments, those are memories I will always hold close to my heart and continue to long for.

“F-fuck me! This pussy is yours, Toji! I belong to you, only you!” Your whines were muffled by my hand placed on the side of your face, pressing your head into the mattress, thrusting my cock into your dripping cunt from behind. The way you moaned my name, telling me you were mine making my cock throb from the overbearing arousal. You could never fully grasp how you make me feel because it transcends anything this world could offer. It’s something beyond words, beyond earthly experiences, as if it belongs to a place untouched by time and space.

“You better not be lying to me, sweetheart. No other man can have you like this, this pretty little hole was made for my cock only!” Delivering a harsh slap to your ass, I could feel myself getting riled up at the imagine of another man seeing you in this position. It wasn’t your fault men wouldn’t stop throwing themselves at you, but I just wish you weren’t so fucking nice about it. Your kindness only encourages them and it makes me sick. It makes me feel like you like the attention and I’m not here for it. All your attention should be on me!

I continued spanking your now sore globes, hearing you let out whimpers, not able to identify if they’re from pain, pleasure or a mixture of both. I was so angry at you I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. “Toji, I’m not lying. I’m only yours. P-please!” You sobbed and I felt my heart drop when I saw actual tears falling from your eyes. This is were I draw the line, if there was something I couldn’t stand was seeing you cry. Forcing myself to stop, I removed my hand from the side of your face to wipe your tears away gently, calling your name.

“No! Don’t stop! It feels s’good, Toji!” My eyes widened briefly, but I couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped my lips. You were crying from pleasure. As much as I hate to see you cry, I can’t keep myself from thinking about how absolutely beautiful you look when you do. The way your skin glows, your eyes sparkle and your lips puff up is like a work of art. An art piece of incalculable value that nobody but me can admire.

“What a fucking slut. You like -hah- being punished don’t you, baby? You like being used by me.” I hissed as I started thrusting into your tight pussy fast and hard, loving the way your ass bounced with each rough stroke I gave you. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, your ass received another firm slap from my hand, making you cry out as your cunt clenched around me. Gods, your pussy is delicious. Nothing felt better than you. Our first night solidified our bond, the connection between us felt so strong I thought it to be impossible for you to not feel the same way.

I could tell by your constant clenching that you were going to release your delectable nectar all over my pulsing cock, which made a wave of relief wash over me as I’d been holding my own release from the moment I felt your slickness engulf me. I absolutely love coming inside you, but it’s a shame you’re on birth control. Those damn pills never cease to piss me off. My intention from the first time we had sex was to impregnate you. It mortifies me to admit that one of the main reasons I came inside you so many times that night was in hopes of baby trapping you so I’d be in your life one way or another, but now that you’re my woman I truly desire to become a father for reasons beyond tying you to me for life. I want to have a family with you.

“Are you gonna let me put a baby in you, huh, sweetheart?” I dare to ask you as I move my hand down to play with your swollen clit because I know how much you love it when I do.

“Yes, daddy! Please, fill me up.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back from the pleasure, you’re just so good to me. I knew your answer wouldn’t be as positive if my dick wasn’t inside you, but I enjoy the way you feed into my delusions when I’m fucking you, knowing you’d say yes to anything I ask as long as I’m rearranging your insides. Your little plea was all it took for me to paint your insides white, releasing rope after rope of semen hoping that this time you’d be part of that 0.1% of the cases where birth control fails. I felt you coming around me, milking me of all I had, squeezing me so tightly I felt as if I might be trapped inside you forever.

“I love you so much, Toji.”

You broke up with me.

The way you told me you loved me replayed in my mind every hour of every day since that moment. For the first time in my life, I cried. I cried in front of you, raw and vulnerable, and I begged you not to leave me. Despite my tears and pleas, you still walked away, leaving me with a hole in my chest. It’s a cold world, but I’d be lying if I said didn’t drive you to this point.

You found out. About everything.

You hadn’t heard from your friends in months and you weren’t aware of their reasoning for ignoring you so cruelly. You noticed they had blocked you, noticing your messages weren’t going through, the same as your calls. I knew you were thinking to yourself if ditching them a few times good enough reason for them to kick you out of their lives like you meant nothing to them. Years of friendship and memories down the drain because something as insignificant as this. It made you ponder if only you had managed your time more wisely maybe you would’ve still had their friendship.

I listened to you vent about it, trying to understand what you did to deserve this treatment. I was your shoulder to cry on. I had been nothing more than supportive towards you. In a matter of a few months I became your unconditional companion, the greatest reason for your happiness. I could tell you were developing an emotional dependence on me and I knew it startled you, but I liked it. Having you depend on me gave you another reason to not leave me and I would rely on that for as long as I could.

In spite of your growing dependency on me, you felt our love was too good to be true and that’s when you started digging.

You ran into one of your former best friends at the store and despite her efforts to avoid you, your feet strode towards her with unyielding determination and you confronted her. You could tell she was nervous. She had all the reasons to be. After our phone call, I decided that wasn’t enough to keep her away, so I had one of my… “coworkers” pay her a little visit, but only to give her a scare. Nothing serious, only a threat to end her life if she did as much as look in your direction. She’s a bad influence to you, doll, and you know it. Always going out clubbing, encouraging you to talk to men and to let them put their dirty hands on you. Always telling you that there’s nothing wrong with wearing revealing clothes in public like you’re some common whore. You know I don’t like it when you show off what’s supposed to be preserved for my eyes only. I can’t allow that type of friendship. Don’t you understand that’s how relationships get ruined? I’m just trying to protect you.

With hesitation, your best friend spoke to you, her fists gripping the handle of the shopping cart tightly. Her face twisted with pain as she began to speak, her words seemingly causing her physical discomfort. She told you everything, and you stood there, a perplexed expression on your face, unable to believe a words she uttered. You yelled at her for even attempting to tarnish my image in such way, and you have no idea how happy that made me. Yet, despite your anger, the hairs in your skin stood on end, a silent signal from your intuition urging you to believe her.

Remember the shaken feeling you got when I grabbed you by the hair the morning after we first made love, sweetheart? That’s exactly how you felt this very moment. But to my benefit, you were in denial. I knew she’d be a problem from the start and after all my efforts, she keeps getting in the way of our love. That stupid bitch. She went as far as telling you, through tears, that she feared for your life. As if I would do anything to hurt you. She even suggested fleeing from Japan with her. The mere thought filled me with simmering rage. I would never allow such a thing, and you were ever to disappear from my life because of her fault, I would search every corner of the globe, every hidden crevice, until I found you.

You stormed out of the store feeling agitated, trying to control your breath. I could tell you wanted nothing more than to stomp into my place to yell and scream at me, but to my surprise, you were calm when you arrived. You were so serene it was almost frightening.

That night you let me have my way with you, but it was different. The usual sparkle in your eye had vanished, replaced by a lifeless, hollow stare— I could barely get a moan out of you.

“Sweetheart, you seem out of it tonight. Is everything all right?”

I inquired, stopping my thrusts, concerned about your lack of emotion. I had always been able to read you, but this time I couldn’t decipher your thoughts. The only thing that I could think of was that you believed your best friend’s words, but what were you thinking about doing about it? Your confrontational nature had fooled me into thinking you’d touch the topic with me right away, but the way you were so inside your thoughts made anxiety bubble up inside me.

“I’m fine, Toji. I’m just tired. Let’s keep going.” You answered offering me a smile, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes like it usually did.

I can’t explain why I kept going, but I did. You started moaning, but to me—someone who has made you moan like a bitch in heat innumerable times— it was obvious they were fake moans. I could feel my body trembling from a mixture of pleasure and apprehension and I came inside you the same way I did every night. You didn’t orgasm that night. All you did was wait for me to roll off you as I held you with my face buried in your neck. I held you like it’d be our last night together. As soon as I moved away from you warm body, you rushed to the bathroom to take a shower as if you were disgusted about giving yourself to me.

“I love you, sweetheart.” I hesitantly said as I got up to walk after you, but the only answer I got was a door slammed in my face.

That night, I should have held you longer.

Hours turned into days, days turned into a week without a single word from you. My phone became a repository of unanswered texts and calls, each one a silent plea for your return. I wandered past your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but it stood empty. Your absence was haunting me. No physical or mental torture I had endured compared to the pain I felt. Thoughts invaded my mind, did you actually go along with your friends’ plan and fled the country? Noticing all of your important belongings were still at your place, that couldn’t be a possibility.

I sighed deeply as I lay on your bed, the familiar scent of your shampoo enveloping me as the aroma clung to your pillows. I let my eyelids fall shut reminiscing in all the nights we spent together on this very bed, in particular our first. I couldn’t stop my cock from hardening at the combination of your scent and the memories. My eyes landed on your laundry basket, a black thong catching my attention. I recall the time you wore it for me, you looked absolutely immaculate in this little piece. I rose from the bed making my way towards it, gripping it tightly in my fist as I brought it up to my nose. My cock twitched as the ghost of your scent still lingered on it. This brought back old memories of the times I broke into your apartment before you even knew of my existence. All the countless times I sprawled myself on your bed, messing up your bedsheets as I masturbated to your scent. All those times I would orgasm merely from the feeling of your silky sheets on my bare cock as I would grind my hips against them.

I fell back on your bed as I continued to inhale what was left of your scent, feeling the tent in my sweatpants grow larger. Biting my lip, I pulled the waistband down, feeling relief as my erection sprung free from its retrains. I let out a shaky breath as I gripped the base of my cock. I missed you so much, going a week without seeing you, hearing your voice— a week without your touch, had been excruciating.

I stroked my cock slowly, trying to mimic the way you would tease me. “P-please, sweetheart. I n-need you.” I beseeched into the air, hoping that would make you somehow grace me with your presence. I proceeded to pump myself faster, using the precum that was accumulating on my swollen tip as lubricant, making my cock slick and shiny— only a mere imitation of how your juices coated it.

Running my tongue over the spot where your scent lingered, I squeezed the base of my cock to prevent myself from coming already. “I need to taste you, baby. Please, please, please.” I felt pathetic having to recur to these methods again, but the desperation you caused in me was mind-boggling. The stimulation was too much for me, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I removed your underwear from my face before I started stroking my cock with them, feeling it pulse, knowing those panties that were now touching my member, were once so close to your pretty cunt.

“Please, come back to me.” Wincing, I felt my cock throb painfully, my tone laced with exasperation. Salty tears welled my weary orbs, each drop a testament to the growing ache of your absence. The pain of not having you with me becoming unbearable with every passing moment. I can no longer endure not having you. It was in this moment that I saw clarity, I deemed taking drastic measures necessary if I wanted to hold you in my arms once more.

“F-fuck, baby. I’m gonna come! You gon’ take daddy’s cum?” I whimpered, feeling like my cock was about to burst from excitement. My movements were lacking coordination at this point and I rutted into my hand as my cum started tainting your panties, shivering as my toes curled at the delightful sensation something as simple as your underwear brought to me. Clinging to your sheets, I breathe as I attempt to control my breath, feeling my remaining tears subside.

As I continued to lay there I started getting flashbacks from our last day together. The day our relationship ended.

“We need to talk.” Your voice echoed through the room the moment you stepped into my place, and my heart leaped, its rhythm quickened with the weight of impending confrontation. You were finally ready to address what had happened at the store with your best friend. I had been dreading this moment, enduring all these agonizing days of anxiety. It was clear you had reached the end of your patience, unwilling to bear the mental turmoil any longer.

I cleared my throat, striving to make my voice sound firm as I feigning ignorance. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” I asked, summoning the courage to meet your face. My heart burned at the sight of your distressed expression on your face. I was so accustomed to seeing you always smiling so prettily at me that the contrast was a reminder of how big of a mistake I made. Perhaps I should’ve found a more subtle way to drive you away from your friends without causing this heartache.

You glared at me as you took a seat at the dining table, and I swallowed hard, sitting across from you. “Never did it ever cross my mind that I would have a conversation like this with you Toji.” You began, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you laced your fingers together in front of you. The disappointment and anger in your tone cut deep, but remained quiet as I allowed you to continue.

“You saw me cry and complain day after day about my friends and you knew. You knew the reason they stayed away from me, yet you still let me suffer.” You let out, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Sweetheart—“

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. You’re not allowed to utter another word until I am done talking!” You demanded, raising your voice. My eyes widened in astonishment, for you had never spoken to me in that tone before. The look of betrayal on your face was unmistakable, and I knew it was all my fault.

“She told me everything you said to her that day on the phone, Toji. And you sent someone to threaten her too?! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You exclaimed, disbelief etched across your face. I couldn’t meet your gaze, my eyes falling to the floor. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt on your usually bright expression. “Gosh, you can’t even look at me. I didn’t want to believe it, but the way you look right now is proof enough for me.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head.

“And if that wasn’t enough, you already knew that I knew!” My mouth was agape. As those words left your lips, my heart plummeted to my stomach, and I was sure I looked like a deer caught in headlights.

What?

No, no, no.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that, sweetheart. You though you were so slick, didn’t you?” You spat, running a hand through your hair in frustration before continuing. “I saw you, Toji! You were following me and I know you heard our conversation. You knew I was aware of what you had done and fucked me right after I got home from the store like nothing even happened!” By now, you were full on sobbing and I felt a foreign tightness on my throat, as if it was closing up, making it hard to breathe.

It literally felt like a knot in my throat.

Wait, why does my face feel wet?

My eyes felt like they were burning. Salty tears were cascading down my cheeks as my chest tightened, each breath shallow and uneven. I could feel my face contorting with a mix of surprise and agony, muscles twitching involuntarily. After failed attempts to stifle the sob that rose from the deep within, it escaped. I felt a hollow ache in my throat and all I could see was a blurry image of you.

For the first time in my life I was crying.

“Really? You’re crying? This isn’t the first time you’ve followed me has it, Toji?” You inquired, a painful expression painted in your tear stained face. I couldn't keep lying to you any longer and I would most likely regret admitting to this, but I did. All I could manage to do was shake my head, making you burry your face in your hands as more sobs were released from deep within your chest.

“Fuck! How many times? How long?” You questioned, rising to your feet, slamming your hand against the table. I shook my head, refusing to answer as I bit my lips to prevent more cries to leave my lips. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I could only pray this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up from this torment in the morning with you cuddled up in my arms.

“Answer me! How. Long.”

I gulped hard, before mustering up the courage to say, “A while.”

You ran a hand over your face, before taking a deep breath. “W-what does that mean? How long exactly is “a while”?”

“A c-couple of months before we met—“

“Before we met?!” You jaw slacked, and you regarded me as though I hailed from another realm entirely. This entire ordeal forces me to entertain the notion that abducting you might have been a more merciful path to our togetherness. Initially challenging, yes, but eventually, Stockholm Syndrome would set in, and you would come to love me… wouldn’t you?

“Y-you’re t-telling me that night we met at the b-bar, wasn’t the our f-first time meeting?” You stuttered, nerves overtaking your body. Why did you look so scared of me? Hadn’t you realized by now I would never do anything to harm you? At least not intentionally.

All I did was shake my head before I standing from my seat, striding toward you. Your tear-filled eyes widened with fear as my towering figure loomed over you. You instinctively stepped back bumping into the kitchen counter, clutching the edges of it so tightly your knuckles paled.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need to be afraid of me.” I started gently, cupping your face in my large hand, eliciting a whimper from you. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done out of love.” And it was true. I knew I’d do anything to keep you by my side, feeling loved, cared for and protected.

“P-please, stop touching me, Toji.” You pleaded, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t ask me that, sweetheart. You’re breaking my heart.” I responded, my voice heavy with emotion. “At one point of my life, I felt undeserving of your love. I thought such an angelic, beautiful creature would never notice a scum such as myself. But that night at the bar, you approached me! You actually came to me! Oh, baby, I was over the moon.” I confessed, a tearful smile gracing my face as I recalled that pivotal moment.

“I knew from that day on that we were meant to be. My feelings weren’t one-sided, sweetheart. You love me just deeply as I love you.” You regarded me with a look that might have seemed incredulous to others, but I didn’t mind. I would do anything to be grazed upon by those breathtaking eyes wether they held love, hate, fear, or disgust— it didn’t matter, as long as they were fixed on me.

“No. No! Let go of me, you fucking creep!” Your sobs echoed through the room as you pounded on my chest, but I refused to release you, even when my heart ached from your insult. Wrapping my arms around your trembling form tightly, I pulled you closer, my grip firm. With a desperate resolve, I sank to my knees, unwilling to let you slip without a fight. If I had to beg for you to stay I would as much as necessary. Every line in your face contorted with pain, your eyes filled with tears that mirrored my own desperation.

“Please, sweetheart. Don’t leave me.” I pleaded, lifting my gaze to meet your grimacing expression.

Without warning, you swung a bottle of Sake from the countertop, striking me across the head with a resounding crack. Stunned and reeling from the blow, I staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected violence in your part. You fled, sprinting towards the door in a blur of motion and fear, leaving me behind.

I sighed heavily, sitting up on your bed as I rubbed my tired eyes. The events of that day kept replaying relentlessly in my mind, each replay sharpening the ache of uncertainty. You still didn’t know the truth about my occupation, and that haunted me. If you reacted so vehemently to me stalking you, I shudder to imagine your response if you discovered the full extent of my actions. How would you react to me being an assassin? How would you confront the revelation that I was not only stalking you, but taking lives for you, eliminating obstacles in our path to being together?

For now, there’s no need for you to know that information.

I am going to fix this.

Fix us.

I have to say, sweetheart, you really did a number on me with this one.

Who would’ve thought you’d be my most challenging bounty? Two whole weeks— that’s how long it took me to find you. Never in my life had I spent this long perusing a target, but it’s all right, I enjoyed the chase. I felt adrenaline I hadn’t felt in years, a blend of anticipation and thrill surged through me with each lead I followed. Each time I felt closer to you, my body vibrated in excitement. Even amidst my longing for you, the thought of even spotting you from afar felt invigorating.

Now that I found you there was no way I would allow anyone to separate us. Anyone including you.

You were currently passed out in the motel bed while I stood by the window smoking. The soft glow of your phone illuminated the room as I scrolled through your debit card statements, I noticed you had been hopping from one motel to another. Each entry told a story of desperation and fear, a relentless effort to escape from me. A pang of hurt pierced through me as I realized the extent of your actions. You were really spending all of your savings to get away from me? I had believe, perhaps naively, that you harbored genuine feelings for me. Yet, here was the undeniable proof of your running, of your desire to sever our bond.

It seems I was wrong. Love wasn’t something you felt for me, at least not yet. If you didn’t surrender your heart to me willingly, then I would have to take matters into my own hands.

Next to you, on the nightstand, I had bestowed a wonderful gift for you.

Your best friends’ severed little head.

In my desperation, I had gone to her apartment, to try to get information about you out of her. Yet that bitch kept refusing and refusing to cooperate. Each denial chipped away at my patience until there was none left. When it became clear that persuasion was futile, she left me no choice but to break into her apartment to get the information myself. Seething at the lengths I had to go to because of her obstinance, I rummaged through her belongings and electronic until I found a train booking to a town around two hours away when I looked through her laptop. It was definitely for you as it had been forwarded to your email. Dumb bitch.

That woman had an uncanny talent to get under my skin, so I got under hers. Literally.

Doll, if I told you I enjoyed making your friend scream in terror, it would be an understatement. I’m a man of my word. She knew what would go down if she ever came in contact with you again. I’m merely fulfilling my promise. I do have to admit that cleaning up the mess was a pain in the ass, but I withstood it— for you. I’m not even sorry for what you’re about to witness, it was time for you to see the real me. I tried to be better for you, sweetheart, I really did, but if m being honest, you bring out the worst in me. And I love it.

I wasn’t born to be good and you weren’t born to change that. Our fates were intertwined in a dance of contrast, but expecting you to turn me towards light was a fool’s errand. I am who I am and no one— no matter how pure— could change that. I can only wish for your acceptance and comprehension. No matter what you chose to feel for me, I would keep you by my side and show you the same love I always have. Because you’re the only thing I love in this wretched world.

I heard you begin to stir awake, small whimpers leaving your lips as the effects of the drug I had administered you started to fade away. A smirk crept across my face, flicking the remains of my cigarette out the window before striding to were you lay. You squeezed your eyes before slowly opening them, and I couldn’t stop my heart from surging with joy as our eyes met for the first time in weeks. Gods, I missed you.

Your eyes widened when they met mine, and you instinctively crawled back towards the headboard of the bed.

“Mornin’, sleepy head. Slept well?” I questioned as I watched you trying to writhe yourself out of the bed, bumping into the night stand making your friends’ head flop to the ground. Your eyes widened impossibly further and you let out a high pitched scream, covering your mouth with both your hands. “Sweetheart, you need to be more careful. I got this gift just for you and now it’s on the floor.” I tskd before lifting the head up by the hair, dangling it in front of you.

Harsh sobs started escaping your lips as you realized who it was.

“Why are you crying, doll? Don’t you like it?” I asked, feigning disappointment. You shut your eyes and I could tell you were praying this was all a nightmare, but I’m not a nightmare. I’m real and I’m here to stay with you. “Come one, settle down now, baby. You wouldn’t want anyone else to end up like her, do you?” You immediately shook your head. “Yeah that’s what’s I thought.” I said through a chuckle, before setting down the head on the nightstand once again. I sat down on the edge of the bed, itching closer to your trembling form. My hands reached out, cupping your tear stained cheeks. Your skin felt cold and damp beneath my touch.

“W-why a-are you d-doing this, Toji?” You stammered, your voice trembling with horror. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to create some semblance of a barrier between us, your eyes wide and pleading for an explanation.

“Sweetheart, everything I’ve done for you is because I love you.” I explained softly, my voice laced with the usual tenderness I always addressed you with. “In order to protect our love I’ve been forced to turnt to these measures. It’s the only way to keep us together, to ensure that nothing and no one can come between us!” You were shaking your head in disbelief and I could tell you were starting to feel nauseous. Guilt started washing over me as I realized what I had just made you go through, so I offered you a sincere smile before saying, “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll get rid of it and she’ll be out of our sight forever.”

I planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, savoring the moment as I inhaled your intoxicating scent as I lingered there. I had never forgotten how addicting it was. A fragrance I had never forgotten, one that was engraved into my memory and haunted my dreams when you weren’t there. Every thing about you was intoxicating and if you were going to be the death of me, I would gladly allow you to kill me. If loving you meant risking everything, even my own demise, then I embraced that fate with no hesitation.

You are my addiction, my sweetest vice, my sweetest heart, and I willingly surrender to your enchantment. For in your arms, I found a love worth any sacrifice.

I grabbed you by the hair just like I did on our first night together, but this time with a firm grip. “Now, Reader, I’m gonna need you to make a decision.”

Are you going to choose to love me or am I gonna have to force you?

[communistkenobi]

this might make me sound ignorant but is the radfem part of term not about hating men? they hate trans people, they hate men and they view both as predatory, obviously men are not their primary targets but I feel like it would be incorrect to say that they don't hate men, especially since many of them believe in gender separatism (which is bs for numerous reasons). it's wrong to bring up men every time someone talks about the transmisogyny terfs spew bc that would be derailing the conversation but can men (trans/cis/whatever) not express how they've been hurt by terfs in their own posts or conversations? apologies if ive completely misinterpreted what you were saying I just want to understand the topic better

I’m not disputing that terfs hate men. However, I think it’s an error to highlight their hatred of men as ideologically significant. Sure they talk about hating men, but their political alliances reveal that dismantling patriarchy, or a desire to oppress men, is not a concern for them, given that they support the criminalisation of sex work, the state enforcement of sex as biologically determined, and are allied with the same right wing groups (such as the Heritage Foundation in the US) that want to criminalise abortion and reinstate “traditional” white western gender norms. If you view terf political goals through the lens of hating men, then their political efforts have overwhelmingly been a massive failure. Which I don’t think is very useful analysis!

A hatred of men is also not politically useful in general, because there is no money to be made or political battles to be won hating men. Hatred of men is not a systemic issue because men are not oppressed as a social group on the basis of their manhood. There is no political or financial infrastructure built on the foundation of hating men, nor is there infrastructure dedicated to maintaining a systemic hatred of men. Hating trans people, however, is extremely financially and politically lucrative, particularly hatred of trans women/transfems, because of how transphobia and misogyny intersect with and reinforce one another. There are ample political, financial, medical, and social institutions that operate on the maintenance of patriarchy, many of which terfs share a political platform with. So terf hatred of men is clearly not that big a deal given how willing they are to ally with right wing groups and fascists, who are the last people on earth to tolerate the oppression of men as a political goal.

This is why people (myself included) take umbrage with the continued insistence that terfs hate men as a central foundation of their beliefs. It’s not incorrect to say that they hate men, but hating men is not the problem with terfs. Hatred of men is not an inherently reactionary position anymore than hating cis people is. The problem is the way terfs conceptualise gender, and the political goals that flow from that conceptualisation, which affects all trans people but primarily affect trans women/transfems. The spectre they raise about bathrooms, about sports, is always the age-old transmisogynistic conspiracy of “a man in a dress” “invading women’s spaces” because the historical legacy of transmisogyny looms large in public consciousness, and reinforced by medical/psychiatric institutions in particular, in a way that hatred and fear of trans men does not (autogynephilia exists as a mental illness but autophallophilia does not, for example. Julia Serrano talks about this in Whipping Girl if you want to read more on the subject). Terfs don’t care about trans men in men’s sports, they don’t raise the counter-spectre of trans men being mass assaulted in bathrooms by cis men who discover that they’re “really women” - these are not rhetorical moves that are interesting or useful to them, because it does not position them as victims. Trans men are hurt by their transphobic rhetoric, suffer under transphobic laws that are passed, and face transphobic discrimination from people in their lives as a result of how mainstream transphobia is (and I am speaking from significant and traumatic personal experience on this front). We are not, however, the face of the transgender boogeyman, and we are not the primary target of terfs. We are targets because we are trans, not because we are men. To be dismissive of the claim that terfs hate men is not a dismissal of the pain and violence transmascs go through, because our oppression is not founded on our manhood.

So when you see terf political efforts and terf rhetoric, their obsessive focus on trans women as arch villains who need to be destroyed, and you come to the conclusion that a hatred of men is the animating force behind terf political activity - that is a transmisogynistic conclusion, both because you are framing their transmisogyny as something that is primarily informed by a hatred of men, and because “terfs hate men” is a non-sequitur in discussions about the political and social damage that their beliefs cause. If terfs hate men, they do so as a hobby, and I don’t really give a fuck about their hobbies

[dyaz-stories]

'You smell nice' — Day one of Inukag Fluff Week

Just a fun lil one-shot for day one of @inukagfluffweek! There is a hint of background SessKagu too because I love them.

Mild warning for Inuyasha's potty mouth and that should be it.

Public transportation was the bane of Inuyasha’s existence.

First of all, whichever human had come up with the idea that half the population would stuff themselves into tin cans to get themselves to and from places, following the same precise and regular schedules every single day, deserved a trip straight to hell. It was easily the dumbest fucking concept known to man, and no self-respecting demon would have agreed to it.

Then there was the fact that there were people everywhere on public transportation, and man, did Inuyasha hate people. Gross, stupid bastards with no self-awareness and no regard for others. There were the students who’d bump into you without even noticing, the women recounting their day far too loud over the phone, and, the worst of them all, the gaggle of salarymen drunk off their asses after some reunion at work. Those ones were rude, entitled, clumsy, and, what was by far the biggest offense, they fucking stank.

And that part was what took the public transport experience from shitty to downright awful. The smells. Inuyasha was no fan of cities in general, their pollution, the sheer amount of things everywhere, whether restaurants, stores, or, of course, public toilets, and, well, the people. It wasn’t always the lack of hygiene, though that was an issue for sure, but the sweat after a day of work, the deodorants, the perfumes, they all came together to produce the foulest of stenches. He hated it here.

The train veered sharply to the left, and Inuyasha tightened his hold on the overhead bar he favored using. Fewer human hands had grabbed it, and since his height meant he had no issue reaching for it, he preferred that to other solutions. In front of him, Kagome hadn’t been so lucky, standing right against the door with nothing to hold onto. With a squeak, she stumbled backwards on her kitten heels, her back colliding with Inuyasha’s broad chest — not that there was really anywhere else for her to go, with how tightly packed the train was.

His free hand closed around her hip, stabilizing her. It came naturally, just instinct, no need to think about it or how nicely her body slotted against his.

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes looking up to him pleadingly.

“Sorry, Inuyasha,” she apologized, lips forming a cute pout.

“You’re good,” he replied, voice gruff. He sent a nasty look to the man on her right, who’d bumped into her. People usually steered clear of him, so the closer she was to him, the better. “You’re getting off at the next stop, right?”

“Yeah,” she beamed, and as always, he marveled at how easy it seemed to be for her to smile and distance herself from the mess of the world around her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shut down the noises, the smells, the flashes of people’s screens — well, unless he had her to focus on. “I can’t wait to get home.” An eyeroll. “Today was the worst.”

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Really? You didn’t enjoy Kagura making a scene?”

He knew he had. His sister-in-law was probably his favorite person in the family, actually, with his nieces a close second, and watching her strut into her asshole husband’s office to yell at him about him cancelling their anniversary dinner had absolutely made his day. They could never stay mad at each other very long, so he was sure a very expensive reconciliation was coming, but he’d had his fun for sure.

“No, I like Kagura,” Kagome replied. “But I got cornered by Hojo at the coffee machine and he wouldn’t stop talking about some miracle diet he thinks would cure my allergies and it took me forever to free myself.”

“Want me to do something about that? He never bothers me with that shit.”

“That’s because you terrify him,” she sighed, “so no, that’s not necessary, don’t—” Another turn, but this time he kept her pressed against him, clawed hand on her waist, and her voice barely wavered. “—worry about it. And thanks for that, Inuyasha.”

A knot formed in his throat at the way she leaned back into him without hesitation. He swallowed around it. Where most people cowered away from the hanyo, Kagome had never acted like he was a threat. Sometimes, he felt she was even a little too trusting. Made him feel and think all sorts of things he wasn’t very proud of.

“’s nothing.”

From how he stood behind her, he couldn’t help but catch her scent, especially when she moved and her hair were right under his nose.

And, fuck, she was a breath of fresh air. He’d known that from the first day she’d strolled into the office, of course, gust of wind blowing through the open door and sending her smell throughout the whole office. He didn’t know what it was, if it was the reiki he could guess at under her skin, that gave it such a pleasant flavor. Either way, it could become overwhelming even in the wide open space. Here, on the other hand, it was the perfect distraction against everything else, and it took more willpower than he’d like to admit to not just sniff at her.

“Everything okay?” she asked, catching him off guard, her big inquisitive eyes staring up at him.

“Yeah, it’s—” Damn it, he’d known she was always noticing things no one else cared about. “That’s— You smell nice,” he blurted out at last, and immediately, he wished he could slap himself in the face. What a fucking weirdo. Turned out, everyone who had told him his mouth was too big for his own good, usually before they got their asses handed to them, had been right. Couldn’t he have kept it shut this one damn time?

“Oh,” Kagome said, and her expression turned thoughtful. He waited for the inevitable judgment to fall down. “I read that demons often find perfumes difficult to deal with, so I haven’t worn any since getting hired at Taisho Inc. Is that really better for you?”

There was the knot again, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment, and rather another, deeper emotion. Of course she’d pay attention to that kind of stuff.

“Yeah, it is,” he answered, clearing his throat. “Makes it hard to be around too many people.”

“That’s good to know,” she said with a nod. “Let me know if I can do other things to help you, alright?”

He would not be telling her anything about the thoughts that were running through his mind at her proposal. Nuh-huh.

“That’s my stop,” she grinned up at him, grabbing the hand at her waist and squeezing it gently in hers. “Thank you again, Inuyasha. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She waved at him, and a second later, she was lost in the crowd, and his world was just a little darker, duller, blander. He let his hand fall back to his side, flexing it reflexively as if to remember how it had felt, touching her.

Keh. He couldn’t believe she was making him look forward to another day in the office.

As a lot of you know, it's been ages since I last wrote for this pairing that's still near and dear to my heart, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! Don't hesitate to scream at me about it in the tags, in the reblogs, in my askbox... anywhere your heart desires lol. Thank you for reading!

[akanesheep]

Their most toxic trait: some NSFW, but not explicit.

These toxic traits existed before they fell and became demons… or in the case of some, before you met them… in the case of the brothers, they’re only more intense after their fall.

Lucifer:

His pride… as if it wasn’t already a given, but it’s really more how his pride limits him. He can’t freely apologize even when he knows he’s wrong. He tends to be arrogant when he needs to be compassionate. If you are able to cope with his prideful and arrogant front, inside, he’s putty in your hand.

Luci won’t be able to be a pubic simp for you. He will bond your hand and link arms with you, and even give you a chaste kiss, but he has to maintain the image of the competent right hand of Diavolo at all times when in public. He won’t be able to put up with silly chaos when you’re out and about. All of that is for at home, when it’s just the two of you. Honestly, it’s like you’re dating two different men. The public Lucifer, and the private one.

In private, you laugh together at silly word puns, he chuckles as you recount his brothers antics. He blushes fiercely when you kiss him, and he teases you with a wicked grin as he pounds you into his mattress. Loving the look of your fucked out face. His soft, gentle eyes and voice as he takes care of you afterward.

If you can handle public Lucifer, the private is worth it.

Mammon:

Our greedy man is known for being many things… but his toxic trait isn’t his greed, or even his theft, or possessiveness and jealousy. It’s his feeling of inadequacy. Mammon thinks he’ll never measure up to Lucifer, or Diavolo, or anyone really. He even feels inadequate in comparison to his younger brothers. It’s one reason he leans into his sin so much. If he can’t be the smart one, the dependable one, the pretty one, the strong one; then he’ll be the bad one.

As I said before, he’s the one that would struggle the most in a poly relationship, because he compares himself to everyone and only sees his faults. He will ask what you like about your other partners that he doesn’t have. He’ll even attempt (poorly) to meet those things, not understanding his own qualities.

Instead of feeding his insecurities by going into his questions directly, redirect him with all of the things you love about him, things only he can offer. Not only will you prevent his insecurity from spiraling, but you’ll lift his confidence in himself and help him see that he is vital to you.

Even if you aren’t a poly MC, he’ll still find himself lacking. You’ll do the same process regardless of how many people in your bed.

Love your first man, he needs all your words of affirmation and praise.

Levi:

Another obvious one. His envy. He’s actively jealous of everyone around him, and like Mammon, unable to see his true worth. He does have parts of himself that he is confident about. Technology, and strategy. He knows he’s good with these, but even so, he struggles to voice himself. Feeling like he’ll only be mocked and scorned even if he tries.

This man lacks confidence in every area. Especially in himself. You will constantly be reassuring him… correcting him when he starts downing himself. Let’s be honest, that is HARD to do. I mean, it’s easy for awhile… but it can be draining to have to constantly battle his own mental demon.

Help him see who he really is. Help him find worth in everything he does. He can improve, but his sin will always be a fight for him.

His switch to Admiral Levi however can be head spinning. It’s such a change that it can take your breath away, and it’s hot as hell to have him suddenly fill with confidence and authority.

You know that this part of him is real and always there, it’s just a matter of getting these two parts of himself to coexist note freely.

Satan:

Anger isn’t this man’s only toxic trait. But it isn’t the one that’s the biggest issue. He works on his anger daily, and with you around he doubled down on it.

No, what is more important is the imposter syndrome that he has. The ‘copy’ of Lucifer issues he’s been struggling with. The unwanted flashbacks to things he never saw, the dreams of a life he never lived… he wakes up from those panting, frustrated, and having to take time to sort out his own existence from Lucifer’s. The morning’s after those dreams, he’s irritated, he avoids speaking and prefers solitude.

He isn’t a hard demon to figure out. With some coaxing he’ll finally talk to you about the dreams, and about the confusion and disoriented state he wakes up in. Hold him, let him talk and run your fingers through his hair. He will feel more centered and calm, why do you always make him feel like his heart is at peace, less chaotic and spiraling that before?

Asmo:

This man is so narcissistic that sometimes you wonder if he is actually complimenting you, or simply complimenting how you look beside him. Like an accessory. That being said, this isn’t his most toxic trait.

His toxic trait is his viscous tongue when angry. Satan may be the avatar of wrath, but Asmo’s spewed venom when he loses his temper is borderline abusive. He rarely loses his temper, but when he does, every word will drip with spite and he takes the low blows. Once his temper cools, he is distraught that he would say such terrible things to you. Of course one can’t truly take back the things they say out loud, and if not handled carefully it could be enough to end a relationship after the first fight. Thankfully you two have talked about his lashing out before, when he mentioned how it had happened before, example given was a fight he had gotten into with Solomon. Quite eye opening, as neither of these two men are exactly anger prone. To picture an argument between the two was impossible. You confirmed the details of the fight with Solomon… to think these two could say such hurtful things toward each other and still speak at all, much less be as close as they are? Amazing.

The eye opener is when Asmo tells you that his words are usually his own insecurities thrown onto another person. His physical nitpicking comes from a part of himself he’s insecure about. That does not make it okay, and he knows that, and has worked hard to break and stop it all together. He’s gotten much better about it, but he worries that it will happen again.

Beel:

This sweetheart is mild tempered, mild mannered, and a huge cuddle-bug. What on earth could be his hidden toxic trait??

I can’t think of one. He’ll eat anything food related that’s around… so no food prepping… and his resting bitch face can be intimidating to some… but that is hardly a toxic trait.

If you HAD to find something, you’d go with his over protectiveness, and his fear of choosing between his loved ones. He’s lost his sister, because he chose his twin. What would happen if someone tried to attack you and Belphie? Would he make the choice to let you die while he saved his twin, or would he let his twin die to save you? It’s a paralyzing fear… what if he freezes up and you both die?

It’s why he pushes his physical limits. He never wants to lose his loved ones again. It’s too much for him.

Belphie:

If you haven’t guessed already, it’s his unresolved misplaced anger.

He has misplaced anger toward the human race for Lilith’s death. Although he’s made an exception for you, it can pop up unexpectedly. Think of it like a racist person being in a relationship with someone of a different race. He gets uncomfortable being around humans, during an argument he’ll make some disparaging remark about humans, etc…

He has unresolved anger toward Lucifer. Some of which Lucifer has nurtured to keep Belphie going. There is a small part of him that blames Lucifer for the war. He knows it’s not Lucifer’s fault how things turned out, because they were trying to save their sister. It was going to happen regardless.

He would never admit it, but he also has unresolved anger toward Beel. Why would Beel save him over Lilith?? He knows he doesn’t know how he would have reacted in the same situation, but he can’t help it. This is survivor’s guilt.

If wanted I’ll do one for Dia, Barbs, Simeon, and Solomon. But I’ve held onto this one for too long before finishing.

[crows-heart]

Howdy Pillar Headcanons :D

be aware this is my first time writing on tumblr so if its a tad odd in some places, i apologize :))) i should be doing my math work i missed or sleeping but guess what i wont

cw: staring mentions (?), howdy being cheesy, i think that's it? ( i do not know how to tag stories)

(look at the funky man!!)

Dating Howdy!!

i just KNOW this man loves to give hugs from behind

everytime you're doing literally anything that has you with your back exposed, he's going to pick you up

you could be in the middle of cleaning and next thing you know four limbs are wrapped around you and you're being picked up

he is both big spoon and little spoon, ignore the fact that he's like 7 foot/213 cm

if you don't like being hugged/touched, that's fine! he likes to make sure that you're comfortable with how he shows affection.

instead of hugging you, he tends to move things around to make it more accessible for you (especially if you enjoy cooking/baking, there are a lot of things in the howdy-sized cabinets but not the y/n-sized cabinets)

sometimes he does purposefully move things out of your reach to have you call him over for help so he can come bother you >:)

that is until you learned that you can climb on the counters... (as someone who is short, this is in fact the most effective way of getting things [dont do this])

he loves holding hands with you! regardless of whether you're in public or at home, he enjoys making sure that you don't get lost /j ("Its hard to see you all the way down there, neighbor!")

he is also a big fan of pinky holding <3

i hc him to have some anxiety issues, so this is a big reason why he enjoys holding hands/pinkys

it's become a big way to help him calm down, and if you start rubbing shapes (?) into his hand it makes things a lot better (he does it to you too <3)

after a long day at the bugdega (bodega? I've seen someone call it that so I'm calling it that bc it's funky!), he will fwump literally anywhere it is convenient for him to do so

let's just hope you're not on the couch/bed because you are a candidate for him to do so! (good luck)

he constantly is making sure that you're ok, mentally and physically! he is a great listener, and he gives great advice too.

everytime you try to help him out at the bugdega, he CANNOT focus

he will literally stare at you for ages until either you or a neighbor points out he's doing so ("howdy, are you ok?" "huh- oh yeah! it's just that you're really pretty...")

he also gives you an 100% discount if you agree to a kiss

either he's really cheesy, or he's reciting poetry to you, there is in fact, no in-between

"i love you berry much! *holds out a strawberry*"

"If i was to be given the option of eternal life, i would turn it down, for a life without you is not one worth living."

all in all, your relationship is berry sweet!! (help i regret writing that)

Being friends with Howdy!!

if YOU have chaotic energy, HE has chaotic energy

he could be cheerfully having an exchange with julie to chanting "thief" to wally in the corner with you (art idea??? might make this)

howdy is great at adapting to your current mood! if you're being funky and all gremlin-like, so is he! if you're tired or sad, he makes sure to give you your time and space to talk if you want!

regardless of this, he does give mother-friend energy

not in the sense of like making sure you're sunscreened, but just looking out for you and making sure you're ok :O)

he LOVES to spook you. regardless of how tall he is, he is in fact, great at sneaking around!

he is also good at being quiet on his feet, which does not end well when you're in the middle of doing something

i feel like he is genuinely a sweet guy, but when he's with friends, he's a totally different caterpillar

if tiktok existed then, you would constantly point at him and say "caterpillar" in that voice (y'know the one from the audio that everyone draws frank spying on howdy with [i absolutely love that audio])

HE KNOWS ALL OF THE GOSSIP OOH JUST YOU WAIT

"did you hear? frank and eddie are finally dating!" "HAH WALLY OWES ME HIS APPLE SUPPLY"

wally is definitely a part of your guy's shenanigans btw it's canon I'm howdys hat

if howdy needs something delivered (most likely wallys hairspray/apples) and eddie isn't available, he asks you! you're practically a second employee so you might as well ahshefs

you still get an 100% discount, since you know, you're kinda working there so that's fabulous!!

he's practically your babysitter at this point i just kinda imagine y/n being one of the leash kids

he can and will throw you on top of his shoulders, you think he's not buff under those sleeves? he has to carry around literal HUNDREDS of apples for wally pretty much everyday

i feel like he likes making things with his hands (I'm really projecting here arent i)

HE LIKES MAKING TINY THINGS OK OK GLAD WE CAN AGREE

random little figurines or things you enjoy will just appear. you have little to no clue where they came from but that's fineee

he knows some of the most obscure things, either about you, or anything really

he loves hearing people infodump about anything! he loves learning new things about people's special interests :D

at the end of the day, he appreciates being your friend so much! he's so glad he got to meet you <3

i am very tired so im probably going to sleep now!! i really liked making this but headcanons are not, in fact, my strong suit. requests are open, i would love to write some more for welcome home!!

[tasteofgummies]

hi, can you make jotaro, gyro and joseph hcs with a slim thick fem reader? sorry for my english :l

Your english is okay! Don't apologize

Cw: suggestive 'cause they're perverts, but sfw

Jotaro Kujo

>I feel like he wouldn't care about what body type his s/o has, at all

>Likes that you are soft and he doesn't feel like he can break you at any moment

>Jotaro's body type is also thick, so he can relate to some struggles, like not finding the right size for clothing at stores

>Jotaro gets sexualized for just existing in his skin everyday, so if you ever need to talk about that stuff, he's there

>Loves cuddling with you and resting his head on your thighs or chest!!!

>Thinks you look absolutely beautiful when you wear something that compliments your body type, but probably gets possessive/protective in case someone else is staring at you

>Not above commiting aggravated assault in case someone catcalls you x1

>likes resting his head on your waist, he just reaches it so naturally

Gyro Zeppeli

>Horny bastard #1

>Shows you off like there's no tomorrow

>Has an arm on your waist at all times, but it's not as innocent as Jotaro

>Literally worships you

>"Bellezza mia, carissima, you just brighten up every room you step in"

>Pretty much shameless about his adoration for your body

>Definitely the type to keep a hand on your thigh under the table (not really with the intentions of public smut, just really likes to touch you)

>He's sharp, and just silently threats creeps in a way that won't make you feel too targeted or too scared

>He kinda uses you those anti stress toys?? I hc he uses his steel balls to stim, since he can't keep his hands still unless he's concentrated

>So yeah, your thighs, ass, chest, even arms and tummy are being constantly toyed with

>If you don't enjoy the attention, he'll tone it down, but only in public, in private he still wants to be close to you and embrace you

>He's horny but he still is careful to not make you feel dehumanized or used, he loves you so much! It's just that you're out there looking all gorgeous and expecting this man not to say anything about it?

Joseph Joestar

>Horny bastard #2

>He's honestly worse than Gyro

>"When babies cry, they get boobs in their mouth, but me? What about me? What if I need them?"

>(With your consent) will grope you whenever, wherever

>Affectionately slaps your ass when you walk by

>He dresses like a hoe, and will encourage you to do the same, he'll definitely buy you two matching outfits

>"Joseph, half my boobs are out in this top"

>"Gotta let them breathe!"

>Brags about you so much

>Makes a scene every times he catches someone eyeing you a bit too much

>(But will stop if you ask him)

>Excepting the creepy unwanted one, he tries to show you the power in being the hottest person in the room, showering in praise and attention

>Trouble finding clothes? He'll get a tailor for you

>Not above commiting aggravated assault in case someone catcalls you #2

>If he's being too much of a perv, just tell his mom, or worse, tell granny Erina, she'll have no issue in re-educating him in how to properly treat a lady

>He never thinks the things he does can be seen as him only being interested in your physical appearance, because he thrives off praise, so you will have to tell him if you do feel bad about it

>if it's something that truly affects you, he'll stop it all, he can find other ways to show his love for you

[lostlegendaerie]

So last night, a little after nine, my mom texted me a message that starts with "did you know that your dad wrote something called Stanford Prison Experiment: the Musical?" This was not the full message, but this was enough to stop me cold so we're gonna go line-by-line accordingly.

Here's a little context as to the kind of person my dad is; a prepper libertarian with a history of (child/spouse/animal) abuse, cheating on my mom with a teenager, and a absolute inability to take any sort of criticism for anything he's ever done in his life. Not really the demographic that I would trust to make a musical about one of the most infamous cases of scientifically enabled human rights violations and take the right conclusion away from it.

I looked up his blog out of curiosity (because, again, what the fuck?) and basically he rewrote some of the lyrics to music from the era to construct a narrative around the two real people who were instrumental in running the experiment (both described BY LEGAL NAME) and with only one original character that he described as, and I quote, "the “John Wayne” guard, an everyman antihero whose rise, fall, and remorse could befall anyone." Unfortunately, any information as to the plot is buried under a staggering amount of description of "systems thinking" - his wholistic solution to everything wrong with the world, emphasizing on cooperation, identifying the 'root' or a problem, and eliminating 'us verses them' thinking. This is the same man who got in a fight with me this Christmas that we shouldn't raise the minimum wage and everyone should just work harder, and who continues to insist the gender wage gap doesn't exist.

So we've confirmed that not only is the musical bad and bereft of plot, serving as a little more than a spoon with what she plans to feed his ideology two more people, but it is a staggering time bomb of legal issues regarding licensing of music not in the public domain and the use of likenesses of real fucking people who are still alive.

But it gets worse.

The next line of the text message informs me that he has asked my mother, who works at a place that will be hosting an A list celebrity known for their charity work (I'm trying not to dox my family here, be nice), to ask her bosses boss to forward his play to said actor and try to help him meet up with them.

This man is trying to cold pitch a work titled "Stanford Prison Experiment: the Musical" that has never been performed by anyone on any stage, nor has it obtained the licensing needed for two thirds of the primary cast or any of the music featured, directly to an A list actor.

Her current plan is to send it to her boss with a follow up email apologizing that she had to send it to him or he would pitch the worlds biggest fit like the baby that he is, and ask her not to forward it onto the celebrity because my mother is at least aware of the incredible social faux pas that would be involved in this. (Because if she just says no, he will scream at her for literal genuine hours about how horrible she is. You know. Like a 60+ year old toddler.)

The one positive thing I am choosing to take away from this is; at least I am not that obnoxious about my OWN creative writing endeavors, damn.

[max1461]

I really have to say that when I see people engaging in, uh... soft apologism for Israel (I mean like, drawing focus in Israel/Palestine discussions away from Israel and onto how bad Hamas is, or how the Israeli side is being unfairly represented, or so on), it basically always makes me lose a little respect for them. Like.

Obviously Hamas is awful. There's nothing wrong with saying this straight up. I don't believe in the kind of neurotic narrative-crafting bullshit that other leftists seem to. People will call it manufacturing consent for US support of Israel or whatever, but I think this is silly. You can't sway US foreign policy by policing a conversation. I've compared it before to the inefficacy of weaving in traffic. It's like, no matter what your goals are, better (except in various edge cases) to go with the slow and steady strategy of "say what you actually think is true, or don't say anything at all". And what is actually true is that Hamas is an awful organization, and I won't hesitate to say it when I think it's relevant.

But. There is a genocide being committed right now, and it is not by Hamas. The current death toll of the war is ~26,000 Palestinians and ~1,400 Israelis. That's 4,000 more Palestinians than last time I made this exact same fucking post a few weeks ago, and... maybe a few more Israelis? It's hard to tell because there's some variations in the numbers that are being reported. That's not even to mention the people who have been expelled from their homes, the infrastructural damage, the damage to public health, etc., which has been exclusively concentrated in Palestine.

This is not a symmetrical conflict. This is a genocide.

I just... there's no other way to say this, but I've seen some people I otherwise respect on here come into I/P discussion and say things like "well this is all true, but Hamas is still terrible blah blah blah", and I see this in pretty much the same light as someone during WW2 being like, "well, the Nazis are awful, but" or "well, the Rape of Nanking was awful, but".

Like. It's not that there's never a time to talk about e.g. atrocities by the Allies in WW2! Those are actually pretty important to talk about! But when there's an ongoing genocide, when the situation is what it plainly is, and I see people repeatedly redirecting discussions of the genocide in away from the actual perpetrators, it's like...

Frankly it just makes me think they are bad moral reasoners. Like I interact with some of these people, I may not know them personally but I know them well enough to be confident they aren't evil or malicious or bloodthirsty. So instead I think they're blinded by bias, or they're in some discourse bubble with the kind of leftists who say Hamas is great and they're being too myopic to realize that dumbass internet leftists (who have always and will always exist) are not the most important issue right now, or whatever. I think they're engaging in a simple failure of moral reasoning. And, I think, an avoidable failure, the kind of failure that makes me look at someone and go "c'mon, man... really?".

The reason I am not so governed by myopic annoyance at internet leftists is that when I see them be dumbasses I say to myself "c'mon, man... really?", and when I have said this enough times about someone I stop taking what they say very seriously to begin with. And so too I often find myself reading I/P discussions and upon seeing one of these "reasonable" voices enter the scene, say to myself "well, this is probably gonna be a silly contribution". Well, anyway.

[spiralsublime]

G13 with an innocent reader? Or maybe a reader who seems innocent but who won’t fall for his presumably manipulative behavior AT ALL.

(ps I’m really happy you’re doing dimension 20 x reader you made my day!)

(of course this is so fun for me, i'm glad that other people seem excited for it lol, i could probably do this for so many of their seasons lol)

but i love the idea of G13 and someone who matches him in not being played by his dumb shit! look, this lanky, greasy tech nerd is terrifying conceptually to these government organizations and these big realms of space. but to a normie who is not involved in the underground and has a basic job?? oh, this is just a dweeb, who is handy with fixing things.

The Beginning

G13 is so invested in the underground that I think he forgets that he is actually a person existing. So he is just locked into his laptop, headphones on, typing away. People are assholes, he is an asshole, this is how the world works.

I think he would have an immediate issue with people he thinks are attractive, assuming that everyone thinks they are attractive and thus they must be assholes who get everything for free.

But obviously, that's not fair. I think kindness would be the beginning and end of it.

Imagining those goofy animatic of you smiling and his glasses fogging over as he blushes.

G13 solves some (painfully basic to him) tech issue for you and after he deep dives on how sweet you are.

The Not So Good Middle

Look, this motherfucker is a hacker bad guy who owes nothing to no one. He jumps through tech hoops to learn your schedule and more information about you to try and make sure to set up a good meeting situation.

I do think you notice, but it is normal to see people around the city. Likely a joke or two about a small world or maybe you thank your lucky stars that a tech wiz happens to be around because your dog shit tech is always breaking.

He is focused on trying to just be in your presence. Maybe he is talking around trying to basically take you on a date without ever asking.

I think the first show that his manipulation bits won't work, will be in this moment where you call him out. ("You know, you could just ask me out instead of trying to make me ask you or hoping we cross paths.")

Boundaries Made By Flat Acknowledgements

Look G13 is used to talking in code and dancing around realities. This is not how normal people expect to have to interact. I think he isn't used to hearing simply "No".

Just him pushing for you to hang out alone with him more instead of previously made plans. "Aw, baby, thank you for wanting to hang out with me, but let's do that tomorrow." A kiss to the forehead and the man is SPUTTERING.

He tries to be shitty and you grab your bag and stand. "Sorry, it looks like you are pissed with work and taking it out on me. I'll let you cool down."

Just deftly keeping your own space and boundaries. But also you are expicit with helping to find his own boundaries to make sure you are doing right by him and it is INSANE for him.

Miscellaneous HCs

His other hacker friends do Not believe that you are real. For sure they think that G13 made you up.

G13 may understand tech to an insane degree but this man is helpless at basic games. He does not understand how to do crosswords or solitaire and he gets pissed when he tries.

The first time you kiss him he literally panicked and dropped his glasses with how fast he moved back. He then fumbled when you apologized for scaring him. (The second kiss was better.)

He does know how to cook the bare minimum, but only in his own kitchen because he modded all his appliances. (Your microwave was never the same after the first time he slept over.)

Even after dating for years, he blushes when you kiss his cheek in public. He is overly smug about holding your hand in public.

He does bitch about you not having enough security measures in place.

He is always super cold (this man is anemic, I just know it) so he is always shoving his cold ass hands under you to warm up. Big cuddler unless he is focused on a job.

Only you are able to coax him from work so he can remember to eat during projects.

I think I'll pause here, but GOD, I have so much more with more specific things. -- see my other x-reader things

[terabyteturtle]

💚 Bryan Fury SFW Alphabet 💚

It's funny, I never paid much attention to him before writing this, but my eyes have since been opened to the amazing (and not to mention, attractive) character that is Bryan Fury.

This was requested by an anonymous user. Hopefully, you like it, and I apologize if anything seems out of character!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

This man will be all over you. Whether you're in public or not, it doesn't matter. At any point in time, he'll sling an arm around you and start showering you with kisses along your jaw or down your neck. His affection is impulsive, so whenever he wants you, he comes and gets you. Bryan is incredibly affectionate, almost to the point where it's overbearing. While it's very sweet (especially coming from him), it can be too much to handle at times. Bryan has no idea what boundaries are, and even when he does find out, he'll gladly cross them. His existence revolves around causing chaos around him, so expect him to test your limits. This isn't to say he'd want to make you uncomfortable, just that he isn't afraid to push your buttons. If it becomes a major issue and you tell him to lay off, Bryan will complain. But because he loves you, he'll give you some space. He likes teasing and irritating you, but when you start going from annoyed to angry, that's when the fun stops.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It'd be so chaotic having this dude as a best friend. You better be pretty energetic, and if not, start chugging 5-Hour Energies. Bryan is, without a doubt, the type of dude who could go ten days without sleep and still be ready to run a mile. Typical activities for you include going to the dump and destroying things, shooting stuff at the arcade, shooting stuff in real life, and bothering people at three in the morning. He's also high-key attracted to you, so despite the fact that you're friends, expect constant teasing and flirting. The friendship would probably start with him wreaking havoc somewhere, with you happening to get caught in the crossfire. Usually, he loved having more people involved, regardless of whether they're innocent or not. But when he saw you, alone and in danger, he felt guilty. As soon as he saw you get knocked unconscious by some random flying object (he couldn't even tell what it was), he ran over, scooped you up into his arms, and took you to a safe spot to assess the damage. To his relief, the only wound you suffered was a blow to the back of the head, which appeared worse than it actually was. When you woke up, Bryan quickly explained the situation. He couldn't stay for long, since he still had some chaos to attend to, but he promised to come back and help, so long as you stayed put. You did as he asked, and sure enough, he came back and patched you up. Once you felt good enough to head home, Bryan gave you his number. You know, just in case you needed anything, or if you wanted to see him again (wink wink).

C = Comfort (How do they comfort you? Are they good at it or are they kinda awkward? How do they like to be comforted?)

Comfort? What is comfort? Bryan Fury can not compute. When he sees that you're upset, comfort is not his first resort—violence is. He'll get heated and bombard you with questions, asking what happened, who did this, and saying that if he sees them, he's gonna snap their neck. He doesn't pick up on your need for comfort, as he's hellbent on getting vengeance for you. You need to be as direct with Bryan as possible, or else he's not going to understand anything. This can be difficult since he talks a lot, especially when he's angry. Pulling him into a tight hug and squeezing him is the only way to get him to shut up. Once you do that, he'll freeze completely. If you want him to hold you in silence, just tell him and he'll oblige, hesitantly wrapping his arms around you and giving you a tight squeeze. If you want to unload everything and tell him why you're upset, he'll listen intently to every word, hugging you tightly as soon as you're finished. But be aware that regardless of what you do, Bryan will short-circuit. Comfort is something that you'll need to help him understand. Not everything needs to be solved with violence, and he doesn't realize that. Comfort with Bryan is very awkward at first, considering it's a learning process for him, but with enough time, he'll get better at it, even telling you jokes to make you laugh or smile. Bryan doesn't like to be comforted. It makes him feel like a weakling.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Bryan does not think about the future. He lives day-to-day, knowing very well that his life could end at any given moment. He'll move in with you, but settling down completely isn't an option for him. He lives paycheck-to-paycheck through his mercenary duties. He doesn't want to get a regular job, and even if he did, he wouldn't be able to—his urge to cause chaos is too great. Besides, who would want to hire a zombie cyborg with a criminal record longer than a kid's Christmas list? In terms of cooking and cleaning, he can not do either to save his life. Bryan somehow managed to burn water twice, so for both of your sakes, it's best not to let him near the stove. Oddly enough, the only dish he hasn’t messed up is pancakes, but other than that, don’t let him in the kitchen. When it comes to doing laundry, if he isn’t given specific instructions, all of the clothes will get ruined. And if that isn't bad enough, the post-chore rage is even worse. If he makes a mistake, he gets frustrated and starts having a meltdown. You usually have to guide him outside so that he doesn't break things within the house. Needless to say, it’s best if you’re the one doing these things, as Bryan is not best equipped to handle them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with you, how would they do it?)

Bryan would just disappear. He wouldn’t say a single word. You’ll wake up one morning and find that he’s not sleeping next to you. All of his stuff will be gone, and when you try to call him, it goes straight to voicemail. Emotions are not Bryan’s strong suit, so he’d just want to cut all ties as quickly and painlessly as possible. As much as he likes causing pain, he couldn’t bear to see you standing broken-hearted before him. Don’t worry though, he would only break up with you if he felt things were getting too dangerous. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), Bryan’s perception of peril is not the greatest. Considering how often he gets involved in chaos, there isn’t much he considers “too dangerous”.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again, Bryan never thinks about the future, so commitment isn’t something that pops into his mind. If you decide to bring it up, he’ll just brush it off with some sarcastic comment. Bryan loves you, there’s no doubt about that, but he doesn’t really want to get married. In his mind, if you guys truly love each other, you’ll just stick together—it’s that simple. He doesn’t understand the need to attach formality to it. On top of that, he doesn’t want to sign mountains of paperwork or decide on assets or worry about all the other stuff that comes with marriage. He just loves you, that’s it. He doesn’t need anything else to affirm that.

G = Gentle (How tender are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Bryan is as rough as they come. He doesn’t intend to hurt you, but he’s so used to being aggressive that he doesn’t even know how to be gentle. His affection feels like play-fighting most of the time, and when it isn’t, he almost hurts you by accident. Emotionally, he’s not much better. Since he became a cyborg, Bryan hasn’t had much to worry about in his life. Walking the Earth and causing mass chaos was the only thing on his mind. So when it comes to you, he’ll show that same carefree attitude, meaning he’ll tease you constantly and won’t be as understanding when it comes to your problems. Bryan rarely feels anything other than joy or anger, but when he does, he’ll just act cynical and pretend he’s fine. Rest assured, none of this is done to hurt you. It’s just how he is. If there’s something he really needs to improve on, then he’ll try his best for you. In the end, Bryan hates making mistakes, and he would get enraged at himself if he made one with you.

H = Hugs n' Cuddles (Do they like hugs/cuddles? What are they like? How often do they happen?)

He LOVES hugging and cuddling—just say the word and he’s down for either. Bryan's hugs are usually either bear hugs or lazy, clingy hugs, both of which usually end up with you falling to the floor. With the bear hugs, they’re like football tackles half the time. After a long day, he’s so excited to see you that he ends up sending you straight to the floor. With the lazy hugs, he’s super heavy, so it’s difficult to stay standing with his dead weight hanging off of you. In terms of cuddling, he loves holding you from behind the most. On the rare occasions that he can get himself to relax, it's the perfect way to give you as much affection as possible. When you're cuddling, expect kisses galore. Hugs happen quite often, but cuddles are pretty rare because he's so energetic that he can't sit still. He is part robot after all, so it would make sense that he has boundless stamina.

I = I Love You (How quickly do they tell you they love you?)

It actually takes a long time for him to say it. This is because it doesn't cross his mind as something he would say. Bryan loves you, and he tries to show that to you as much as he can, so he doesn't feel the need to tell you that. In his mind, he thinks you already know. On top of that, he actually has said it to you before—you just weren't awake to hear it. One night, Bryan came home late, having just finished a difficult job, to find you fast asleep on the bed. Out of impulse, he leaned down, kissed you on the forehead, and whispered those three words softly to you. He often forgets that you weren’t awake, so while you have no idea he ever said it to you, Bryan believes the deed was done.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Not jealous, possessive. At least, that's what he likes to say. If a guy looks at you the wrong way, or simply stares at you for too long, Bryan will feel an incredible urge to punch them in the face. He gets pretty jealous, but not for the typical reason of fearing that he's gonna lose you. For Bryan, it's a thing of everyone knowing you're together. You're his significant other, and he could not be prouder to have you by his side. He wants the whole world to know you're together, and if somebody doesn't know, then he’ll tell them loud and clear. When Bryan's jealous, he'll sling an arm around you and tell them you’re together. If somebody is flirting with you, and Bryan notices that you're feeling uncomfortable, then he'll become even angrier. And if that person makes the mistake of being rude or trying to hurt you, then they better be prepared for the beating of a lifetime. Bryan will not let anyone get away with disrespecting the person he loves. At least, not with all of their limbs attached.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He likes to attack you with flurries of quick kisses whenever he sees you. These kisses will fly all over your face, neck, and jawline, all with Bryan's strong arms wrapped around you. When he kisses your lips, it's rough and kinda sloppy, but also very sweet. This man can’t get enough of you, and it clearly shows through his kisses. Bryan will kiss you anywhere and everywhere. He doesn’t care what part of you he’s kissing; he’s in heaven regardless. Personally, he likes to be kissed on his lips, neck, and chest. He's very specific about it, too.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children and what are their thoughts on them?)

Despite what some people might think, he actually loves kids. Bryan hates the responsibility that comes with them, but he likes messing around and making goofy faces to make them laugh. In his mind, they're like mini troublemakers, capable of causing chaos at any given moment. He has a lot of energy, so he can chase them around and keep them entertained for a long time. Little kids think his crazy laugh is hilarious. Since kids like him so much, they'll usually listen to whatever he says. If the two of you somehow landed a babysitting job, he would enlist their help to pull pranks on you. In terms of having kids with you, that’s something he’d never do for two reasons—first, he doesn’t believe it can even happen since he's a cyborg, and second, he doesn’t want to deal with the responsibility.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings can be pretty chaotic, as is everything with Bryan. If you wake up earlier than him and try to get out of bed, he'll start complaining and hold you tight. You literally have to pry his arms off of you in order to get out of bed. Even when you finally escape his grasp, he'll just follow you to wherever you're going and hug you, practically hanging off of you as you're trying to do stuff. It's sweet that he wants to be close to you, but sometimes it can really get frustrating when you're trying to get ready for the day. On the rare occasions that he's up before you, Bryan will try making you breakfast. He tries his best, but he nearly ends up burning the house down and you have to take over.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are just as chaotic as mornings. He'll come home from a job and start hollering about what happened and how cool it was and how he wished you would've been there to see it. He'll tell you crazy stories about stuff he did in the past, all the while making hilarious jokes about it. Before you guys go to bed, he might spontaneously start making out with you. Some nights, he'll just randomly wake you up to take you somewhere. Whether he takes you to the dump to destroy stuff or out to eat at a 24-hour diner, you always end up having a good time. It’s safe to say that Bryan’s more of a night owl than an early bird, so expect him to be far more energetic once the evening rolls around. Because he likes to drag you out at night so much, you’ll definitely find yourself feeling sleepier in the morning.

O = Open (At what point would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or take their time with it?)

He didn't waste any time telling you about everything. You kinda knew what you were signing up for the day you met him.

P = Patience (How patient are they?)

He's not very patient at all, least of all with himself. If he makes a mistake while cooking, cleaning, or doing anything, he gets frustrated immediately. Bryan’s default setting is violence, so as soon as he gets angry, he needs something to destroy immediately. Since he’s been free to cause chaos for a couple years, he’s completely forgotten how to control his anger. You often have to guide him outside because if not, he’ll break everything in sight. Once out of the house, all he needs to do is kick things until he feels better. His patience isn’t much better with other people, and if they do something that even remotely pisses him off, he’ll start throwing hands. When it comes to you, he's still not patient, but he’s far better by comparison. Instead of throwing things, he'll show his impatience through complaints and snarky remarks. Even if he does get super angry, he’d never dare lay a hand on you. You’re the one person he truly loves, the only one who’s given him a true purpose in life. He’d hate himself if he hurt you.

Q = Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or kinda forget everything?)

Bryan actually remembers a lot. When he tells you stories from his past, they're always loaded with detail. He was a police officer after all, so he needed to have a good memory in order to do his job. When it comes to you, he takes down everything in a mental notebook without missing a single thing. He’ll often pretend to forget about things just to dumb himself down in front of you, then surprise you with something thoughtful later on. At the start of your relationship, he only did this because he hoped to get laid, but as it continued, it became something more special. He won’t admit it, but he adores the way your eyes light up each time he surprises you with something.

R = Remember (What is one of the most important moments of your relationship?)

One of the most important moments was the time he protected you from some drunk guy trying to harass you. He kept flirting with you, and despite your every attempt to make him leave you alone, he just wouldn’t stop. He reached out to grab you, but Bryan stepped in and beat the guy up. Before that moment, Bryan didn't really think much of your relationship. You had been dating for a couple months and he didn’t think it was anything too serious. But when that giant, muscular guy tried laying a hand on you, you became his number one priority, and he would've stopped at nothing to keep you safe. After the fact, Bryan realized that he cared so much more for you than he'd previously imagined. This was no longer just a casual fling for him; this was the real deal.

S = Security (How protective are they and how would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Bryan can get extremely protective, especially in areas of high danger. He’d be by your side the entire time, eyeing your surroundings. If someone or something threatens to hurt you, he’ll knock ‘em dead in two seconds flat. Bryan himself, on the other hand, doesn’t want to be protected. First of all, he doesn’t think he needs it, and secondly, he wants to be your knight in shining armor, the person you can depend on when you’re in trouble. He craves to see you gazing at him in admiration as he swoops in to save you from danger. It makes him feel like he’s doing something right. Although he hates to admit that, he needs reassurance about it every once and a while.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, etc?)

He’d put in effort, but only in the most Bryan way possible. Dates with Bryan are usually very spontaneous. He’s very impulsive, so he just goes about and does whatever he wants. If he visits a place he thinks you might like, he’ll call you then and there to see if you want to hang out. If he wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep, then screw it, he’s waking you up and you’re both gonna go somewhere fun. In terms of anniversaries and other special days, Bryan loves going all out. When those days come around, his main goal is to have as much fun as possible. He’ll dance on tabletops, take too many shots, and think you kissed but he forgot. As for gifts, he’ll get you stuff every so often, but they’re usually plucked off the corpses of people he’s killed during his fits of chaos. You’ve learned not to question their origins, as he gets really defensive about it whenever you do. He feels it doesn’t matter where they came from, as long as they were straight from the heart (not of the corpse, 'cause that would be weird).

U = Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?)

Bryan has a short fuse and is prone to lashing out when he gets angry or frustrated. In addition to yelling and cursing, his way of expressing his anger is by destroying things. If he gets angry, you better put him outside quickly or else he’ll shatter all of the fine china. He’d never hit you, no matter how angry he gets, but the same can’t be said about your furniture. He’s like a tornado, leaving broken messes in his wake. Speaking of which, he doesn’t really clean up after himself. He’d rather save his energy for causing chaos than keeping his space tidy. If you’re someone who enjoys cleaning, count yourself lucky to have a boyfriend as messy as he is.

V = Values (What do they value in a partner?)

He wants someone who’s able to put up with his crazy antics, who loves him for his crazy, maniacal self. He wants someone he can laugh with, who can take a joke and dish one out that’s just as good. He wants someone who doesn’t mind that he’s not completely human, who doesn’t judge him. He usually doesn’t care what anybody thinks, but when it comes to a partner, he needs a fair trade. If he’s not gonna give a crap about their setbacks, then they shouldn’t give a crap about his. Bryan might have a few screws in his head loose, but that doesn’t mean he’ll take just anybody to be a partner. There are a lot of boxes, and luckily for him, you’ve checked all of them.

W = Wedding (How are they on the big day? How do they help plan it out? Are they emotional or stoic?)

Again, Bryan wouldn’t want to get married. He doesn’t think there needs to be a whole big ceremony just to tell you something you already know—that he loves you. But if, hypothetically, there was a wedding, he would be a mess. He’d act all crazy and tough, but he’d secretly be scared to death. Knowing how clumsy and chaotic he is, Bryan would be worried that he’d accidentally ruin it for you. As much as he loves making a big bullet-ridden explosion out of everything, he knows that’s not how you’d want it to be (unless it is, which in that case, he’d have nothing to worry about). Bryan will snatch the wedding plans out of your hands and read them over a thousand times. This way, he knows what’s going on ahead of time and can make sure that he won’t mess it up for you. Once standing at the altar, he’d probably make a joke or two about how shabby he looks compared to you before giving you what is probably the sweetest smile he’s ever smiled.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Bryan always has first-aid stuff on hand. If you’re out somewhere together and you get injured, he’ll be able to patch you up right then and there.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they can't stand, both in a partner and in general?)

Bryan can not stand anyone who’s a control freak. He needs to have the freedom to do whatever he wants, not to be tied down to a schedule. Routine is boring, and on top of that, there is no routine when it comes to mercenary work. It’s first come, first serve, and a job can pop up at any given moment. Some missions take hours or days to complete, others take weeks or even months. If they can’t handle that, he can’t handle them. He also hates people who are too serious. To him, if you can’t take a joke, there must be something wrong with you. He’s a carefree guy, and he gets irritated by people who don’t match his attitude.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of theirs?)

He snores so loud. Never before in your life have you heard anyone snore as loudly as this man. From another room, he sounds like a grizzly bear. Also, expect him to cling to you while you sleep. Once he’s asleep, there’s no getting out of his arms, unless you’re able to pry yourself free with a crowbar. If you don’t have one on hand, then you’ll just have to wait until morning. Even then, Bryan’s a heavy sleeper, so it’s difficult to wake him up. On rare occasions, he’ll punch and kick in his sleep. Luckily, he’s never hit you, because if he did, there’d probably be a you-shaped hole in the wall by now.

[artbyblastweave]

Hi! I've been reading a lot of your thoughts on superheroes, and wanted to ask you a question if that's okay.

I've always been interested in the genre, but lately I've gotten frustrated with how "safe" the entries play it. No matter what, there's always a Justice League, a world built on superscience, and most "importantly" of all, a Superman. I wanted to ask if all of these things a required for a superhero story, and if so, how far can they be stretched while remaining within the genre?

My conjecture is that from a bunch of directions, it’s a legibility issue. 

Long swaths of rumination under the cut.

The superhero genre, out of all genres, is one of the most self-referential; it’s subject to an exaggerated, snowballing and self-reinforcing instance of the Mount Fuji Problem, as laid out by Terry Pratchett:

“J.R.R. Tolkien has become a sort of mountain, appearing in all subsequent fantasy in the way that Mt. Fuji appears so often in Japanese prints. Sometimes it’s big and up close. Sometimes it’s a shape on the horizon. Sometimes it’s not there at all, which means that the artist either has made a deliberate decision against the mountain, which is interesting in itself, or is in fact standing on Mt. Fuji.”

Superman is Mt. Fuji. 

Superman is enormously popular. The first modern superhero, the one the rest of them are patterned on or in conversation with. In the early days, a lot of superheroes were just naked attempts to cash in on Superman, to the point of IP slapfights (This is how DC acquired the rights to Shazam/Captain Marvel.) In the interregnum period caused by the Wertham Scare, he was one of the only superheroes that survived and saw continuous publication. As a result of this bottleneck, superheroism is a genre monoculture; all characters conceived of as “superheroes” are only a couple of creative generations removed from Superman. All of this gives him- and characters patterned directly on him- an outsized influence in both the public and authorial perception of what a “superhero” looks like. 

So fifty years down the line, when you’ve got creatives crawling out of the foxholes to try and make some superhero things that are new and innovative or parodic, a few things start happening:

Number 1. Superman is Very Legibly a Superhero. Superheroes, up until the MCU boom, were pretty niche in the mass market; a lot of pre-MCU films (and actually a lot of MCU films, this is my perennial beef) are structured in a way that makes it seem like they’re apologizing for daring to be superhero properties. Note the aversion to code names, the costuming choices made in the X-Men films, the irony poisoning. Superman was one of the exceptions to this, (Others being Batman and Spider-Man;) he’s too iconic. He’s one of a handful of characters who’s clearly a superhero and nothing else. (I’m going to return to this point later.) So if you wanted to invoke superhero at a glance in a mass-market property, making them have costumes and/or powers like Superman (sometimes with hints of Batman) was a fast way to communicate this. As the number of works that do this increase, the gravity of the bias swells because of the pool of precedent- the likelihood that your audience has seen not just Superman, but numerous parodies of Superman. (I was friends with a woman once who knew almost nothing about Superman beyond the fact he existed, but upon being told the broad strokes of his backstory, said, “oh, like in Megamind!”)

Number 2. Superman attracts the interest of Creatives and Iconoclasts. This is the non-cynical take on the above; Superman’s outsized presence in popular culture means that inevitably, a lot of really competent writers are exposed to him, grow up with him as one of their blorbos, and rotate him in their head non-stop for years until they’re finally in a position to write something. The Superman pastiches in Astro City and Irredeemable and Supreme Power and Invincible and Jupiter’s Legacy and The Authority and BNHA and Powers and on and on and on- they’re in there because the writers wanted to tell a story about superheroes, sure, but more specifically they want to yell their hot takes about Superman, who they love, out to the world. And many of these stories are thoughtful and reflective of the human condition or whatever, and so the canon of “Oh my god you have to read this” superhero works, inevitably start to contain tons and tons of Supermen pastiches. (And Batman pastiches; he’s subject to a similar dynamic.) The effect is reinforced.

Number 3. Even in niche or fan-oriented superhero works that don’t suffer from the above-described marketing pressures, familiar character archetypes are useful shorthand that lets you get to whatever novel point you’re trying to make faster. This applies to Superman, who I’ve focused on up until this point, but this is also a good point to start talking about one of the other things you mentioned, the Justice League. 

In Invincible, the Guardians Of The Globe, world’s premier superhero team, are 1-to-1 pastiches of the classic Justice League Lineup. I own the ultimate collection in which Kirkman explained that choice; beyond the fact that they were very powerful heroes, and that it was very very bad for the world that they were dead, the actual nature of the Guardians was immaterial to the story. All things being equal, it therefore made the most sense to him to just piggyback off pre-existing comic book fan affection and reverence for the JLA, because his editor was breathing down his neck to get the actual story moving after the six issues of relatively low-stakes adventure that Kirkman had insisted on in order to make the reveal hurt more.

Strong Female Protagonist is (was?) a webcomic about the world’s most powerful superheroine sliding into semi-retirement after neutralizing all the superheroic threats and realizing that her actual toolbox with which to enact lasting societal change is pretty limited. There are a lot of powersets you could give to the most powerful hero in your setting; a lot of aesthetics you could give her; actually, by making her a woman at all you’re already breaking the mold. But there’s utility in starting somewhere bog-standard so that everyone’s on the same page when you start doing the social commentary.  

Black Summer is a story about John Horus, the most powerful hero in the world, deciding that the only way to stay consistent with his commitment to evenly applied justice is to execute George Bush for War Crimes, explain why he did so, present the evidence, and ride off into the sunset; his five surviving teammates are then left holding the bag as a pissed off military closes in. The most powerful hero in this case is pointedly designed to look more like Magneto than Superman, but the seven-person team dynamic is clearly meant to broadly invoke that of the Justice League; this gives the readers somewhere to start when picturing what the team dynamic looked like before it collapsed, and it makes the ways in which the group is really obviously not at all like the Justice League pop.

Superhero story which are about someone needing to replace the world’s greatest superhero? Often rely on this fan-legible shorthand. (BNHA, Dreadnought, a couple others.) Stories in which the most powerful hero died as part of the backstory and left an imperfect world for the survivors? Often rely on this fan-legible shorthand. (Welcome to Tranquility, Renegades, etc.) Stories about the kid of the world’s most powerful hero trying to live up to their expectations? Often make use of this fan-legible shorthand (Sky High, Hero, etc.)

Extend it to other individual superheroes. You want to critique the economic injustice implied by superheroism, or the ways in which it would physically and socially destroy you? It’s efficient to invoke Batman or Iron Man, quintessential billionaire powerless capes, and go from there. You want to examine the hellish existence of the working-class teen superhero? Efficient to invoke Spider-Man and go from there. You want to examine the uphill battle of the female superhero in a male-dominated field? Efficient to invoke Wonder Woman and then go from there.

When you can simultaneously save time and creative energy AND demonstrate to your audience that you know the genre canon, the shared referents, the in-jokes- why reinvent the wheel? 

The effect is reinforced.

Number four. In works that are about a more unconventional or unique superhero, A tertiary Superman-figure can be a useful genre signifier.

So, the obvious rebuttal you could provide to everything I’ve said so far is that the superhero genre is obviously, comically, massively more diverse than just Superman and copies of Superman. You can make a superhero based on almost anything, intersecting with almost any genre. This is, in fact, the key to the genre’s longevity; the degree to which “Superhero” is such a nebulous genre category that you can cram basically anything into it and have it work. You can remix it forever.

However, this is a double-edged sword; while a superhero universe can accommodate literally anything, many of the resultant “superheroes” are superheroes purely because they exist in the context of a superhero universe; they stop existing as such if removed from it. Blade is a superhero, but the Wesley Snipes Blade films are not really framed as superhero films. Doctor Strange, extracted from the rest of Marvel, could just be an Urban Fantasy property. Green Lantern and Nova and Captain Marvel could be yoinked out and reframed as participants in the Space Cop flavor of Space Opera. Context-scrubbed Thor could be high fantasy. Context-scrubbed Hulk could be a monster movie. Context-scrubbed Guardians of the Galaxy becomes Space Opera. Ant-Man wasn’t originally a superhero; Hank Pym debuted in a one-shot horror/adventure comic about a scientist who nearly gets killed fucking around with a shrinking formula and an anthill, and then he got retooled when Marvel realized superheroes were coming back. Logan was a fantastic film but like many X-men films it divested itself from the framing of superheroism as much as it possibly could. On the opposite side of things, you could take a property like Buffy The Vampire Slayer- generally not viewed as a cape thing- and slot it into the Marvel or DC universe without having to alter anything. If someone like Shepard from Mass Effect, with their armor and future-weapons and/or their biotic powers, crash landed on Marvel or DC Earth, they’d transmute into a superhero just by virtue of who they’re now standing next to when shit starts going down. (This is the backstory of at least three superheroes, probably more.) Superheroism is incredibly fluid. It’s incredibly modular. It’s incredibly contextual.

There are a handful of characters, though, for whom this isn’t true; as I mentioned above, they’re superheroes and nothing else. They’re the platonic implementations. Batman is one example; the most grounded and gritty version of the character ever put to film still couldn’t get around the fact it was about a vigilante in a bat costume beating up the mob. Superman is another; It’s basically impossible to make a Superman film that downplays the iconography, the power, the social position and license of the superhero.  The social position and license are huge parts of this!

So, if you’re gonna write a story about a unique superhero- a superhero with a cross-genre origin, or an unconventional aesthetic, or really esoteric powers- a way to keep your story anchored in the genre is to include a Superman-style figure or a Justice-League style organization as a tertiary presence within the worldbuilding, in order to make it 100 percent clear to your audience what lens they’re supposed to view this story through, and to emphasize the contrast posed by your esoteric cape. Worm does this, juxtaposing a protagonist who controls bugs and thus has to fight like a maniac for every victory against an all-powerful Superman-analogue who exists in the background of the setting (although he swells in narrative importance in the back half.) Another example is The Shadow Hero by Gene Luen Yang, which is a comic about a Chinese-American vigilante in the 1930s who, due to a poorly worded pact with a spirit, becomes invulnerable to bullets and nothing else; a more traditional Superman Analogue called “The Anchor of Justice” exists in the background of the setting, only getting a couple of speaking lines, and is mainly used to demonstrate the double standard society applies to superheroism when someone other than a white guy starts doing it. Incredibles does this as a background gag, with the sheer number of heroes in Edna’s “no capes” montage who were clearly trying to fill the Superman niche but continuously couldn’t cut it.  Valiant comics did this. Wild Cards I think did this. City of Heroes I think was doing something like this by having prototypical flying-brick Statesman as an NPC while all the PC heroes were (by virtue of being PCs) significantly more diverse and outlandish in powers and presentation. There are other examples of this juxtaposition trick that I’m not thinking of.

So, what are some works that don’t do this?

Here’s a non-comprehensive sample of works that unhook themselves from the standbys;

First off, The Marvel Universe. I think I’ve talked a few times about how the Marvel superhero community is pretty heavily dysfunctional, disjointed and fractious in comparison to the DC superhero community; The Avengers are an absolute shitshow in comparison to the Justice League, as individuals and as an organization. It’s easy to forget due to their total conquest of contemporary pop culture but Marvel was churning out unconventional cape after unconventional cape for years without stepping on DC’s toes; for a long time they were the answer to this question. Any time that Marvel has played at adding a Superman analogue to the setting, it’s usually in the context of pointing out how radically different the setting would work if there was a number-one top-tier hero like that running around.

Heroes, the first season at least, is heavily in conversation with traditional superheroism without actually featuring any of the aesthetic markers within the show itself; no costumes (because supers are simply too new as a widespread phenomena to have the institutional backing for that) no obvious Superman figure (one power per person) and the handful of cast members trying to behave like superheroes are explicitly doing so because of the existing cultural referents of fictional superheroes; by the end of season one nobody has made it all the way to the finish line in terms of costumes and codenames.

Absolution, a comic miniseries by Christos Gage about a superhero who snaps and starts playing Dexter, using his versatile forcefield powers to emulate dozens of different murder weapons so that the killings can’t be traced back to him. The setting is aggressively and deliberately street level, with almost no obvious character analogues, a host of novel powers, and “superheroes” that are universally incorporated into police departments as superpowered SWAT teams. However, the books politics are noxious; it seems that the author’s objection to the police is that they don’t kill enough people. But I bring it up because it’s visually clearly a superhero work while still having a strong aesthetic aversion to all of the tropes you specifically mentioned.

No Hero by Warren Ellis, which is about a superhero team created in the 1960s by a counter-culture chemist who stumbled upon a psychedelic drug that provides superpowers. The team is, in universe, very visibly attempting to carve out an aesthetic identity independent from that of traditional superheroes, brutally fighting crime in varied combinations of gas masks, latex, and evening wear; the group is also tiny, due to the team’s founder being rightfully paranoid that the government is going to jump on his secret recipe. It’s also an incredibly visually horrific book. Body horror galore. 

Uber by Keiron Gillen is an alternate history in which World War 2 was fought by super soldiers, developed initially by the Axis and then by an increasingly-panicked America and Britain. The project of the comic was to repudiate the idea of the superhero as an individualist figure who can overcome anything through grit and moral righteousness; in the words of Gillen, it’s a comic about how Galactus is going to beat Spider-man, every single time. In keeping with this, the superhumans are fairly cookie-cutter (developed in batches down known lines of research) the outcome of superhuman fights are determined purely by which of the two superhumans were better made, and as military projects the “heroes” are named using the same conventions as battleships (USS Colossus, HMS Dunkirk, etc.) 

Watchmen is an interesting situation. The one powered hero, Dr. Manhattan, is mainly used as an exploration of Superman’s geopolitical impact- the effects of the most powerful thing in the world being an American agent. But in terms of actual origin and aesthetic Manhattan is primarily in conversation with the Marvel Stable; a lab-accident origin, space-age energy powers, presence within the setting’s second wave superhero resurgence rather than having gotten in on the ground floor. That one is picking and choosing recognizable elements in order to do a bunch of different things at once.

Most of these tie back to the Mount Fuji thing; the absence of immediately recognizable figures in these works are, due to the volume of precedent, themselves a very pointed and noticeable choice. Sometimes even a choice the characters themselves are making within the story. And this presents a challenge to any capefic author who deliberately eschews familiar archetypes because they’re sick to death of them; go too far out of your way to excise Superman from your story, and you run the risk of just providing implicit commentary on his ubiquity instead. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One last note; you clarified in DMs that the “super science” you were referring to was that of the crop of pulp heroes; Doc Savage, The Shadow, The Phantom, et al et al. I think something different is going on here from everything else I’ve been going on about. When superhero settings incorporate these proto-heroes, it’s part in-joke and partly a nod to legacy; these were the characters immediately preceding Superman and Batman, the prototypes, the incubators for a lot of ideas and aesthetics that later superheroes would take and run with. Many 1930s-1940s superheroes are visually the “missing link” between the two genres; examples of this include The Spirit, The Sandman, and The Green Hornet. In superhero settings that are built “from scratch” outside of the big two, with a setting history that stretches back before the 1930s, it’s therefore common to incorporate a few figures patterned along these lines as a form of tribute. The flip side of this is that the archetype is also very easy to attack and parody; many of the pulp “men of science” were predictably tied to very yikes-inducing ideas about race, gender, and so forth, and thus if you want to criticize the basic assumptions of heroism, one way to do this is to take the archetypes at the root of the genre and then make them period-appropriate jackasses.

I’ll cop to being significantly less informed about this last bit, and thus significantly less confident in the conclusions I’m drawing about it; I’m therefore going to refer you over to @maxwell-grant, who’s very into the pulp hero side of things and can probably give you a more informed perspective both on how the science hero types informed the development genre, and the varying degrees to which they’ve hung around as both objects of tribute and parody. 

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

aren't we lucky to live in a time in which technology is so easy to use and convenient for connecting us with friends? an old friend of mine died suddenly and I was the only one of the friendgroup able to make it down in time for the service (because I left work and started driving immediately after the news) but I promised my grieving out of state friends I'd discord video call them so they could view the service, since we were all on a discord channel together. at the service I mentioned this to the father of my friend and he asked if I could also send him the video. I couldn't figure out how to start a call on discord because unlike on desktop there's no button to press on mobile, my friends kept telling me to press the audio record button, which only makes an audio recording. ok, well, I wanted to save a video for friend's dad anyway, so I'll just record a video and share it with everyone later, I apologize to my friends waiting in the chat who thought they would be able to view the service with us. I record the service feeling bad about that but hey this is something. it's long and the file is big so of course I can't just send it in the chat. Can I email it to friend's dad? no. It doesn't even give me the option to share as google drive link. I try to upload it to drive manually. it's telling me I don't have enough space and I need to upgrade to their subscription service. I delete several old videos from drive and try again. it still says there's no space. I upload it as an unlisted video on youtube (so it's not public but anyone with a link can view it). this takes literal days to finish uploading but finally it's there. at last, I've fulfilled my duty, at least a little bit. I send everyone the links as I'm getting on a plane to go back to work, extremely emotionally and physically exhausted. when I look at my messages later they're asking me to un-private the video so they can watch it. that's weird, it wasn't private in the first place? I go look at it. ah I see. It's blocked because there were copyrighted songs played at the funeral. maybe I can upload it to facebook? but I don't have facebook on my phone for a variety of reasons (don't use it, also it's got an unusually high amount of tracking and weird data stuff associated with the app even for how bad apps usually are) so I need to get the file on my computer. plug my phone in with transfer cable. the prompt to file share does not show up to initiate file sharing. wait, I can access youtube on my computer, can I download the video that way? yes I can. will facebook block it too? how long will it take to upload there? am I doomed to fail my promises again and again? I thought I was lucky in being able to be at the funeral and that this would give me closure but it's dragging after me like an albatross. my friend's dad just texted me could I Please share the video with him because he wants to watch it. believe me man I'm trying

I start the download and start typing this post in frustration. i finish the first paragraph and check on the download. download failed. I click retry. I type some more. I check on the download. download failed. retry. download faile.d retry. download failed. I am literally keeping track of how many times this happens. I'm not exaggerating. wow it kept downloading for a while that time--download failed. retry. download failed. retry. did I mention I have covid right now, possibly from traveling to the funeral, and I'm out of breath and almost lightheaded from walking up stairs, so I can only imagine the breathing issues that have been getting progressively worse with every infection are going to make it even harder for me to exist the way I want to after this. download failed, retry. is there not enough space on my computer? I cleared up space recently, and shouldn't it tell me if that's the issue? I have a hard drive I could get out it necessary, but I don't really want to save this albatross, I want to get it out somewhere the people I promised to share it with can see it and forget about it for a while. it only needs to be on my computer long enough to upload to facebook. download failed. retry. when do I know I should give up on this? download failed. retry. this is becoming a metaphor for grief now and I resent it. it says the download will be complete in 28 seconds. maybe this time? it's said 28 seconds for a while. download failed. opening in 32 seconds. 19 seconds. fuck it's stuck on 4. so near and yet so far. yep. download failed. 6 seconds. holy shit I've got it. it's on my computer. I open up facebook on my devoted 'shitty websites container' browser (chrome, I also leave my amazon account logged in on there in case I'll rarely need something) and try to upload. loading. There's no time estimate even. just a 'posting' spinning loading circle. I'm terrified I'll accidentally close the window and have to start over before it's done. I don't know if my discord friends have facebook. can I silence the audio on the parts of the video so I can share it unlisted on youtube? I'd have to do some in depth video editing of a kind I've never done before, though I have done some basic video editing in the past--years ago--so maybe I could figure it out. this is a week past the funeral at this point. it just keeps going.

posting . . .

[knowyourplace-fool]

mind games until you lose control

Attack on Titan

Pairing: Yandere!bully!Eren x Shy!female!reader

Genre: Smut & Angst

Synopsis: Eren claims to hate you, and often torments you for simply existing, yet he can’t keep his hands off of you.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Part 1 (2 in the making and possibly a bonus too)

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

A/N: uh, hi. First off, I want to apologize for disappearing literally right after starting this blog. I’ll try to post more often now that I’m back on my eren shit. The ONLY reason I’m back is that there are seriously no more good dark fics anymore and no one seems to be doing SHIT about it, so ur girl’s coming in clutch for all u peeps who are into dark shit. Ong tho, I’m tired of re-reading fics (shout out @father-time-and-baby-new-year , IVE BEEN LIVING OFF HER FICS, so good, chefs kiss) anyways, happy very belated Christmas and new year :) also, the song that inspired this fic is “Mind Games” by Sickick. Definitely giving toxic eren😩

Warning(s): Physical abuse, slapping, squirting, toxic behaviour, toxic Eren, dacryphilia kink, sadist!Eren, choking, manipulation, rough sex, abandonment issues, mean!Eren, groping in public, degradation

THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!

THIS FIC CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

“There’s another side that you don’t know, you don’t know.”

You peer over at Eren whose left hand is firmly at the 12 o’clock position on the steering wheel. His other hand gripped your bare thigh, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down on your tender skin. His eyes were direct, jaw tight. You took this as a chance to observe how Eren looked tonight. He was wearing mid-rise, black, ripped jeans. Matching his pants with a black designer t-shirt. Initially, he wore a black hoodie over the top, but now it’s over you. His long, silky hair was in a loose man bun and a thick silver chain hung around his semi-tattooed neck. Both of his arms were littered with tattoos and veins. Around his left wrist was an expensive watch and down to his fingers were a few silver rings.

You look down at his hand that was on your lap. You brought both of your hands down to his and played with the bracelet that you made for him. It made your heart flutter a bit that he was still wearing it, despite it acquiring bright colours which he contrasts with.

“I can’t wait to get you all alone, all alone.���

Eren was driving back to his house after a night out with a few friends. As much as you wanted to tell him to take you back to your place, you knew he would become more aggravated with you. You decided against poking the bear and buried your face into his warm, soft hoodie.

You closed your eyes and thought about the events that unfolded tonight. It was your first time going out. After being endlessly bullied throughout middle and high school by Eren, you ended up with no friends. At first, you were fine with being independent but as you got older, you realized how much you were missing out on. Ironically, your first outing was with Eren’s friends. You knew Eren was bound to be there but you couldn’t give up on the opportunity of making new friends.

You wore a short, emerald green, bodycon dress. You wore your hair down with a few accessories to put your look together. Originally, you were going to walk to the arcade — where you planned on meeting up — but your friend Sasha offered to pick you up.

The night was going swell, you were genuinely having fun. The hangout moved from the arcade to a bar where Sasha’s boyfriend served you guys a few rounds. It began to get late, and the bar started to fill. While Sasha was dragging you to the dance floor, you made eye contact with him. It made you stop in your tracks because you know that look. You recognize it by heart. Goosebumps run up your body and you begin to think back to the last time he gave you that look. It was a warning look. As she was being dragged away, Sasha quickly let go of your arm and you made the sensible decision to sit back down at the booth.

“Once I’m in there ain’t no letting go, letting go.”

Casually, Eren ended his conversation with his friend and strolled over to you, nearly sitting on top of your thigh. His arm rested around the seat and he leaned into you. “Who invited you, trailer trash?”

You attempted to move down the booth, but Eren lowered his hand to your thigh and squeezed it. “Answer me.”

“Sasha invited me.” You meekly say, clearly uncomfortable and intimidated by his presence.

“Oh? When did you and Sash become besties? Does Sash even know where you come from?

You don’t answer. You know he’s referring to your home which is an old, rented-out trailer that’s at a trailer park. You had running water, a bed, a cramped kitchen and a living space. You were practically raised in it. It was good enough for you but for someone like Eren who comes from mansions, yachts and money, could never see how one can survive in it. He let the whole world know that you were poor and grew up with a single mother who abandoned you at 14. It hurt, every time he spoke about it like it was his trauma.

Yet, you have kept a charming smile on your face and allowed him to run all over you. You were a person who avoided conflict. You’ll apologize even if you did nothing wrong. You never saw the point in fighting, especially with someone like Eren.

“She picked me up from there.”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “Oh? Are you sure she saw the trailer park or did you wait at the corner of the street so she wouldn’t see?” Eren could read you like a book. You loathed yourself for hiding or at least trying to conceal the fact that you lived there. You live in a relatively wealthy town — mostly wealthy senior people who’ve retired reside in your town. Then there are people like Eren, whose father is a successful travel doctor and whose mom is a successful travel nurse who retired early and now lives her life as a housewife. His dad could retire early too, but he chose to be the town’s family doctor.

Eren grew up in a mansion with nannies and butler’s running to him at the snap of his fingers. No one has ever said no to Eren. Except for you, but would he ever listen to a nobody like you? You’re nothing but trailer trash to him. You hated that Eren made you feel self-conscious about where you lived. You hated that he made you feel ashamed of yourself for being poor, even though it’s out of your control. You know you don’t fit in the standard of this town, but it’s not like you had money to move away either. Regardless, it felt inhumane to criticize someone simply because they don’t have as much money as you. Any available condos here were a minimum of $1,000 per month vs your trailer rent which was $200, including utilities.

Furthermore, it was the last thing your mother left you. She paid the rent for the next 5 years then vanished. All you needed was money for food. You recall how you struggled to get a job at 14, most of the businesses running in town were family-based. They didn’t hire outsiders. Eventually, Eren’s mother Carla offered you a job as her sewing assistant. You were passionate about fashion, clothes and designing, so the job was right up your alley. Not to mention, Eren’s mother was a fallen angel. Truly a second mother. She was somewhat aware of your situation and frequently had you stay over for dinner, so you wouldn’t go home hungry.

Initially, you thought you hit the jackpot with this job, but once Eren started interfering, you began to scramble home as soon as you were done. It started small, like mean, typical insults to a little physical aggression like pushing and pulling to straight abuse. Every so often when Carla wasn’t looking, Eren would grip you by the neck and slam you into the wall, choking you out. Other times he’d slap you, pull your hair and spit on your face. You thought you could manage, but the final straw was when he ripped through your virginity, dismissing your pleas to stop.

You had to quit afterward and budgeted your saved money until you could find another job or better yet, get the hell out of here and away from him. But of course, that never happened. In fact, after Eren had stolen your virginity, he kept coming back for more. Early in the morning, he would show up at your door and force you to the back, where the bed was. You recall it all too vividly, you were lying on your stomach, unfortunately already aware of what was about to go down. You couldn’t help but cry. You were unsure of how to stop him. His whole body weight kept you down, and he had both of your wrists pinned. You were wearing a nightgown, only providing easier access for him. He fondled your body for a couple of minutes before ripping your gown off, leaving you bare on the bed. Eren had a ridiculously huge dick. No matter how many times you fuck, you can never adjust to his cock. Eren was completely aware of this and used it to his sick advantage. Without properly prepping, he pierced into your tight pussy, letting out a deep groan after bottoming out. You were sobbing your heart out, kicking, squirming, whimpering, doing anything you could to attempt to get him off. Little did you know, Eren was fully getting off to this. He pulled out his cock again and shoved it back in with no mercy. Pretty quickly, he picked up the pace and began fucking you like an animal in heat. He had a hold of your whole body; he wouldn’t allow you to slip away from him. After adjusting to a comfortable speed, he leaned down, burning breath fanning your ear, “stop fucking crying, you like this.”

“No, Eren please!” you cry out, gripping the bed sheets harder than before. He lets go of your wrist and pulls your hair back to get a proper look at your pathetic face. “Tell me no again, baby. I fucking dare you.”He pressed his cheek against yours, moving his hips harder and faster from behind. He was provoking you to say it again. It’d give him more reason to punish you. You knew it was a trap and tried your best to avoid it, but it wasn’t enough. After hours of relentless fucking, you felt the hope in your body crumble and decay. It hurt to inhale because of his cock that was nonstop impaling you. It didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon either. You couldn’t help but beg him to stop. Every inch of your body was aching, screaming at your brain to figure something out to make this all stop. Your poor mind was helpless. You couldn’t do anything but beg for mercy.

Eren quite literally fucked you all night. By the morning, you were smothered in sweat and tears. When you woke up, he was gone. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you waddled over to the bathroom before bursting out into tears after taking a look at yourself. Dark hickeys decorated your neck, collarbone and cleavage. His big hands left some bruises on your wrist and ass. Lips are swollen from being sucked on for too long and hard. You used the washroom and freshened up a bit before crawling back into your bed.

Unfortunately, for you, this would merely be the start of it.

“Watch me turn your mind into my home.”

Eren's house is located in the outer part of town, also known as, where the rich people live. The drive from town to his house was about 30 minutes, even with Eren’s speeding. Eren’s hand was now holding yours; he was fidgeting with your ring.

It belonged to your mother. After she “had disappeared, ”you went to the police station after 72 hours of her not contacting you. You knew your mother’s work required her to be away for a few days, but normally she’d call you. It had already been three days and you hadn’t received a single phone call. When you informed the police officer, they informed you that your mother had already spoken with them and that she was not missing. She’s moved into the city. A wave of confusion strikes you. Did she move… without you? You understand the city was far more expensive to live in, especially with a teenager, but an explanation would’ve been nice. Once you reached home, you opened a few of her drawers and saw that most of her items were gone. You must have been in deep slumber when she packed her bags and left for good. Your heart breaks a little, every time you think about it. It made you feel worthless.

Although you’ve never acknowledged it, your mom was the one who triggered the crack in you. She raised you to be independent and obedient because it made her job as a parent significantly easier. By the time you were eight, you already knew how to wash your clothes, cook and even walked to school by yourself, despite it being a 15-20 minute walk. Because your mom left early in the morning, it was your responsibility to wake up and get ready for school. However, you never complained because you knew your mother was working her ass off to provide a better living for you. Or so you thought. But could you blame her? You hated that you constantly found a reason to be empathetic toward someone, even when they outright wronged you. Your mother left you to fend for yourself, and that’s how you landed into the palms of Eren Jaeger who completed the crack and completely broke you.

I fucking hate Tumblr. It took me longer to format this fic than to write it.

Anyways, hope you somewhat enjoyed it.

I know that there wasn't much smut in this part but the next part will!!

Thanks for reading :)

xoxo,

n❣️

[canonsinthehead]

Naruto Modern AU/Hollywood pt.9 - THE GOSSIP FILES (Voted by the audience)

Get ready for all the tea and drama!

Did you know that Sera and Zabuza graduated from Kirigakure's Dance & Performance Arts Academy? Both in Dance degrees, this is why you can sometimes see them perform together, they've been attending the same schools since high school.

Regardless of his frown eyebrows and later change of carrer, Zabuza is a dance at heart.

I need to had that they would be the type to participate in Kiri's edition of a show like Dancing with the Stars and perform something like this

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Brother of the Financial figure, Madara Uchiha has been spotted at the performative artist/bordeline corn star Ibiki Morino annual boat party on a private beach in the Land of the Moon.

Obviously Mizuki (and the podcast bros) jumped on the case and proclaimed the existence of a promiscuity curse on the Uchiha Family and their close relatives.

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"KEEP MY HUSBAND NAME OUT YOUR MOUTH!" proclaimed WWE fighter Sakura Haruno after her opponent Kin Tsuchi got disrespectful during the pre-game weigh in. She insulted her and her family but the pink-haired world champion remained calm.

She won a soul-crushing victory with barely any injuries.

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Most popular streamer "Eida" issued an public apology after saying offensive words "Sorry guys, I didn't know any better because I'm an android..."

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ONCE AGAIN, Boruto Uzumaki gets injured after a prank "in the hood" goes wrong, he was discharged from the hospital 2 days later.

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A-List actor Itachi Uchiha is spotted with an undentified male at a Konoha motel. An employee claiming the existence of a sex tape, threaten to release security camera footage. A lawsuit is ongoing...

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Leader of the Jashin Cult, Hidan was finally arrested this past friday.

Both him and Mega cruch pastor Kakuzu Osteen has been linked a networks of various online scams and misinformation. Their funds made of illegal donation collections goes up to 300 millions $ The authoritiess are still looking for the pastor who vanished after the arrest of the cult leader.

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Madara's Uchiha's 3rd wife, Maria Uchiha has won won a child support settlement going up to 300,000$ per months for the two children they had together. It is the highest ever seen comparing to his 3 other wives and 6 other children. According to private documents, she is the only one figured on the man's testament.

I know this one doesn't make any sense because Madara is supposed to death al ong time ago according to this HD BUUUTTTT hear me out... I still picture him a someone who would have multiple wives even if he's nothing but a pack of bones.

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Rapper Hanabi is getting backlash online over her group last single TOMBOY.

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Renowned fashion designer Orochimaru kicks off this year's fall collection with Basketball player Kiba Inuzuka & Bussiness owner Neji Hyuuga.

NEXT PART

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[nichecomicstournament]

propaganda under the readmore

John Butcher: guy literally started as two written stories in a publication I didn't even know existed until I tried reading all his appearances. I think the only reason I know he existed is because I got like the last issue of his miniseries in a box of comics from an estate sale my aunt went to when I was in high school. I have only found one other issue of anything this guys been in on a whim literally 3 days ago while digging through a $.50 at my childhood comic shop. Like technically he exists in the nu52 iteration of Green Arrow but like they butchered his character so much it's not even really him. I firmly believe I am the only person that knows about this character besides the people who had to watch me weep while I read his miniseries.

Theresa “Trixie” Collins: She was Booster Gold’s receptionist and love interest (lol) back in the early days, but what I love so much about her is how weird she is. Her first scene is her making a business man apologize to her cat (that she adopts I guess?? But they stay in Booster Gold’s high rise office building?) or she will cancel his meeting. You can just tell that Dan Jurgens had a great time writing her. She has like 30 appearances ever.