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#If i wanted to have my face on the internet that is.
olderthannetfic · 2 days
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Obvious Disclaimer that this is not about any specific anon in particular, not about OTNF themself, but that my following rant might *slightly* punch down on people who ARE, well, older than net fics are.
But my honest opinion is that I really don’t like it when us old heads tend to sorta…talk down to? “Adultsplain”, if that’s even a thing? To The Gen Zs, by being like “damn kids! back in my day we never used our real name or posted selfies or posted about our personal life at all!” Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those people who never posted the real me — but not because I was anonymous and cared about online safety, because I was a liar 😂 That being said, there ARE older people who definitely over-shared or “doxxed” themselves and still do, and there’s younger people who don’t!
I also feel like being “ha, these stupid KIDS who post about their FANDOM LIFE on TIK TOCK under their REAL NAME AND FACE where IRLS CAN SEE THEM, how STUPID” is not doing anyone any favors. Is that, technically, a smart thing for kids to do? No. Has it become normalized? Yes. And does that suck for people who might be bullied or outed or whatever cuz they genuinely are dumb and don’t know better and then someone they don’t like sees their stuff? Yes.
We all talk about how there’s no more kids spaces on the internet and how that’s a shame, but then five seconds later we’ll reblog that one “At any time I’m at risk of seeing a 14 year olds opinion and that’s why I hate it here” post. There’s really so few kid spaces on the net now, that’s true. We should extend empathy and let the teens be obnoxious and pretentious in peace, rather than making it a point to “ratio” or “roast them.” Idk personally I’d be completely unbothered if some 14 year old insulted my fic or my ship or whatever. I’d just block and move on, no need to try to argue with them.
And also, not all kids are even pretentious or obnoxious! I’m not saying we all need to take the kids under our wings, but we should be careful about not hating them just for being in their teens years, you know?
Also… telling a teenager to not post PII or not get into discourse or not have social media or whatever will NOT work the way you want it to 😭 kids are by default a little bit oppositionally defiant so telling some rando teen to Get Off Your Lawn (blog) rather than just blocking them, will encourage said teen to Stay On Your Lawn.
I just hate how it’s become normal for adults to talk down to teens online. I was harassed by adults online as a kid, then years and years and years later i went through my own “Older Than You™️”phase where I myself was a shit to teenagers, and I truly regret that so much. To this day I still need to make an effort to be careful. I saw on Twitter where an adult posted a DM from a 13 year old, mocking them. The DM said “I’m 14 next year, can I follow you? Please don’t groom me.” And the adult OP was laughing at how stupid the dm was. A few years ago, I would’ve been one of the people retweeting that and rolling my eyes at the child. Now im disgusted by the people who WERE laughing at them.
And again I’m obviously not saying we should be “nice” to the teenagers who mock us for our ships or who virtue signal too hard. But we also don’t need to make fun of their CARRDS or call them Puri-teens or rag on them just for being 17 or younger, yk?
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Teens aren't 'puriteens' just for being young, dude. They have to also be puritanical bullies.
I find the stuff about real names hilarious because, actually, if you're really Internet Old™, then you probably did use your real name... it was right there in your university e-mail address! Or your random early ISP address if your stepdad got it for you and thought the university format was the default. Thanks, stepdad.
I've done every single dumb thing from going to meet my internet pen pal at an Alice Cooper concert to flying to Ireland from Japan to stay with a fandom friend I'd never met without telling anyone where I was going and without a credit card or enough cash to flee if I had to. I remember sitting on the plane thinking "Man, this is such a CSI episode topic".
The really funny part was that despite what she'd said before I visited, we ran into each of her parents at different times and ended up going to a play courtesy of her uncle, and all of them were like "So how do you know each other?" and "But you'd met before, right? RIGHT?!"
The level of panopticon is horrifying now. Teens have my sympathy. That part really is worse, and I think it's driving an entire generation nuts and we're going to see even more shit about people wanting to run away and live in a cabin in the woods with no internet. But in general, I don't think we're so different.
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modanisgf · 24 hours
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015. LET ME LOVE YOU (HALF WRITTEN)
wc: <1k
warning(s): slight spoilers for a movie (atsv), profanity
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hanni was currently in her room getting ready, over analyzing her appearance. she was on the phone with minji, who was with haerin at the moment.
"are you sure all this is necessary?" haerin said, making hanni groan.
"i don't know, i just wanna look my best for her." hanni says.
"didn't you say you aren't in love with her?” minji asks, being met with a long pause.
“i’m gonna fight you.” hanni mumbles, making the two on the phone giggle.
“anyways, you need to hurry up. yn is supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.” haerin says, making hanni freeze.
“and you didn’t tell me until now?”
“it’s better than telling you five minutes before.."
"i'm blocking you." hanni said simply before hanging up, not missing the giggles heard from the other side of the phone.
hanni made quick work to clean up her apartment, the doorbell ringing as she was making the finishing touches. she opened her phone, checking her appearance before opening the door.
“hi hanni!” you say, grinning.
hanni was mesmerized by you, your voice leaving her in a trance.
“hi yn.” hanni says, letting you in.
the next hour was pretty quiet with you being invested in the movie, hanni smiling everytime you gasped at a plot twist.
“she seriously betrayed him like that?” you exclaimed.
“i mean miguel and spider-woman were her role models, of course she was gonna—“ hanni says.
“don’t defend her hanni.” yn interrupts.
hanni gives yn a blank stare, turning her attention back to the movie. one thing was on her mind though, were you really dating chaeryeong? she didn’t exactly expect you to let her know, your relationship being fresh but she really wanted to know.
hanni couldn’t even deny it anymore, she was in love with you and she was jealous that you and chaeryeong were on music bank together. she was jealous that the rumors might be true and that you and chaeryeong were togther. she was jealous that the internet loved you two together and the only fan you guys had was jay, hanni’s dumb fan page and hanni herself.
“yn are you and chaeryeong a thing?” hanni randomly asks, confusing you.
“hanni did you see that? his suit looks so cool!” you say, ignoring her question.
hanni sucks in a breath out of anger, why couldn’t you just tell her?
“yn, can you just answer me?” hanni asks.
“it’s really none of your business.” you say.
“aren’t i your friend? i just wanna know what’s up with you.”
“we barely know each other hanni.”
“are you serious? we’ve talked so much over text i just thought—“
“well maybe because we had to.” yn says.
“what the hell are you talking about? i thought we moved past the pr stunt, it might not even happen anymore.” hanni retaliates.
“that’s good because i think i have something going on with chaeryeong.” yn states.
“oh and you couldn’t have just said that like five minutes ago, that’s all i asked.” hanni says, infuriated at this point.
“y’know what just get out of my house, i don’t wanna see or talk to you anymore.” hanni says, turning off the tv and rushing to open the door.
“huh? i was just being straight up with you!” yn says in her defense.
“i don’t care, i know what i said i don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” hanni sneers, not noticing the hurt look on your face you failed to mask.
you left the house quickly, breaking out into tears as you realized the damage you had just done. hanni obviously wouldn’t know you weren’t allowed to discuss her companies plans with anyone, especially her. her ceo wanted to create a love triangle, and wanted nothing good for hanni after her scandals recently.
you didn’t know why you couldn’t just be honest with her and tell her, it was going to be hell for hanni soon and you chose to keep the information to yourself. you knew hanni was already heartbroken, rumors going around the industry she had wanted to be your friend for so long.
you felt horrible to say the least and you just wished you could start all over again, take it all back and just tell hanni the truth.
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TAGS 🏷️ (OPEN): @jayjj7 @haerinsloverr @aribunnu @masuowo @multiliker @aeriniee @sewiouslyz @edenzeepy @popasi @home2venus @ghstvr @technicallyimportantsweets @he------len @yukianism @yeetaberry127 @haechansbbg @linnnsworld @sixflame438 @emotionallyrin @gtfoiydlyj @inosfavgf @rvoulte @hotluvlet
a/n— yearly update guys!! 😁😁 (swear im writing more tn)
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sugar-plum-writer · 10 hours
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Box Me Hard Tonight Boxer <3
Tags: Crazy sex; Nanami losing his mind; NSFW and more NSFW; Boxing terms not used the way boxing terms ought to be used cough; Nanami in a rut being hard and rough; is it even Nanami anymore? what have you done to him?; Fem!reader x Boxer!Nanami Kento; established relationship; marriage; MDNI; (18+)
A/n: I had the most delusional Nanami imagination. Normally I don't write him as I cannot write him properly. But today he summoned me to write on him. And thank you for 200+ followers! I am so happy and am kicking my feet right now! I have opened my asks feel free to check out the pinned post in my blog for more info on asks~
Synopsis: What happens when the promised surprise is you riling him up and breaking the control over himself he had so carefully crafted?
Word count: 1.8k
[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]
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Kento Nanami was a boxer turned UFC Champion-infamous worldwide for his tactics and combos, calm demeanor, polite nature but brutal and efficient fighting tactics.
Nanami focuses only on you as you rush towards him screaming in happiness, throw yourself over him and he holds you tight burying his head in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent god you smelled delicious
He had hustled towards you immediately once he was free from the press; had the seats specifically saved for you. You only deserve the best: the front row seats, the closest to his corner as the love of his life.
"Baby" he smiled at you softly compared to his ruthlessness in the ring as the reporters crowd around you and him trying to capture your pictures. He is a star, the sole focus- the champion the only "Kento Nanami"
His muscles flexed as the sweat dripped making his body glisten under the lights.
"Kento! we won! yay!", you kissed him excited unbothered by the people around wrapping your arms around his neck
"Yes, we did" he hums and melts under your kiss with a slight groan as he kisses you back, "So sweet- I can never get enough"- his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt not wanting to let you go.
As the mob gets more violent trying to click pictures, the bodyguards around you struggle to keep them away. Seeing the crowd he immediately scooped you in his arms, "Let's go home, love", he smiled softly as he carried you effortlessly
"Yes Darling let's go home~", you chuckle as his bodyguards in a matter of seconds have you two inside the car through the back door.
"You were so amazing Kento!", you look at him your eyes beaming with happiness, "It's all because of your love and support darling", he kissed you softly as the car started moving
"Kento~ haha!" you laugh as he kisses you and you kiss him back, "Love let's go for a vacation, where do you want to go hm?", he looks at you lovingly. Every time Kento had his match; after the match, you guys would go to for vacation to relax and unwind.
The car ride continues peacefully as you and Kento keep chatting, "Kento you know~ I have something special prepared for you today", you look at him playfully as his eyebrows arch intrigued
"What is love?", he chuckles as he looks at you amused, his hand finds its way to your thighs, caressing small circles into it as he hums softly. Squeezing your thighs.
"It's a surprise~ be patient Kento", you giggle as you rest your head on his shoulder and pat his crotch area making him hard, "Be good for me won't you?"
Let grunted and looked into your eyes hotly as if wanting to stuff you full with him right this instant, "Fine- I'll behave for you love…", his hot breath making you shiver as he whispered, "If only I get a reward later"
Soon you guys arrive home; Nanami gives you his hand to take as he helps you get out of the car and kisses your knuckles lovingly but- the moment the door opens and shuts behind the two of you, he's on you immediately- pinning you against his large frame on the wall.
His hand finds you on your cheek, tilting your face up as he kisses you deeply; your tongues intertwined. Wanting to taste you like a man who finally found an oasis in the desert; he kisses you even harder.
"I cannot be patient"- he looks at you in the eyes hungrily, his hands touching and squeezing your body as he fondles your breasts; wrapping your thighs around his waist- picking you up into his arms as he walks to your shared bedroom
"Ah-Nanamin" you moan as he kisses you hard biting your lips and nibbling on them, "Nanamin hah-" you look at him breathlessly, "Box me hard in the bed won't you?" you whisper as you wrap your hands around his neck making him freeze
"What?", his eyes darken, "Is that a proposal love?", his breath gets heavy as his lips hover above yours
"Do you like it?", you cheekily kiss him and smile teasingly making him lose his composure, "Love it to the ring baby", he whispers making you blush;
He pulls you into another kiss making you moan this one being rougher, hungry, and, full of carnal desire; "Ah- hah Kento ah", you moan against his lips as his hands slide under your shirt taking it off you, his teeth graze your neck before leaving bites leaving a hickey as you squirm
"Kento", you moan as he kisses you deeply once again and pulls away leaving a string of saliva, "Yes darling?" he chuckles as he removes his shirt gazing at your body, his toned muscles flexing themselves under the dim light- a confident smirk is on his lips- a completely different look than how he normally looks at you, what happened to him?
"I wonder", You look at him up and down as you touch his v-line making him groan, "Baby this is a dangerous game you are playing", he whispers with his cock twitching in his pants- oh how badly he wanted to touch him their and milk his cock with your pretty hands
"Hah~", you smirk as you look into his eyes, "Really? well, I wonder how hard my boxer can knock me out tonight~", you smirk with your words instantly sending goosebumps up his spine
"You are just asking to be punished aren't you?" he groans as his fingers dig deeper into your waist your words stirring something carnal inside him- he always likes to be gentle with you- loves you and treats you like the treasure you are, but your words are slowly eating away his control bit by bit
"Punish?", you smirk determined to break his composure to see what animalistic desires hide behind his calm demeanor. You have seen him when he boxes- that hint of insanity in his eyes makes you squeeze your legs together so tight- making you desire him so much it's embarrassing
"Why? will you box my pussy till it's stuffed and knocked out all sloppy?", you smirk and say as you spread your legs open making his breath hitch and his cock harden even more as he gazes at you and that damp spot on your panties- the spot so reserved for him and his dick
"Baby.." he leans in close so fast making you jump back, "Do you know what you are saying huh?" he whispers as he lowers his head and with his teeth rips your panties off throwing them off god knows where animalistically officially losing it; making you shudder as goosebumps spread all over your skin.
Oh shit- Oh shit you fucked up big time, you have never seen Nanami like this
But you aren't done yet hell you planned all kinds of vulgar things just to rile him up with a sharp breath you look at him and he notices as a devilish grin spreads across his lips
"Hah" you lean in and hotly whisper near his ears as his grip hardens on your hips bruising them and making you wince in pain, "Ya know… How about… You give me a fast jab with your dick-", you moan, "Then flip me over and do an uppercut as you fill me up-", his nails dig even deeper and he bites your shoulder bruising you like an animal in heat, "You slut you will be the death of me" he whispers and groans
"Then a side punch into my pussy from your dick as you fuck me from the side…and" your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes because of the pain but it felt so good, "Make me sit on top of you and do fast combos of uppercuts huh?"
Without any warning he stuffs his dick into your pussy roughly making you clench hard- your cunt desperately cries sloppily not used to harshness as she's always been treated like a princess not like a whore; working hard to adjust to his dick as he ruthlessly bullies his length inside you "Fuck" he groaned, "You are driving me crazy"
"Ah-hah-" you moan desperately, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts deep inside of you- hard, fast, and deep wanting to feel every inch of you around him, "Shit Kento! ahhh-", tears spill out of your eyes as you moan; your body aches with every insane thrust
"Hah-", he pants "You're absolutely mine, split so prettily on my dick my darling wife" he hungrily kisses you as his dick keeps moving, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head
There was not a hint of rationality behind his eyes as he was in a rut and just kept fucking you, even after you orgasm he kept going, fucking you through so many orgasms you'd lost count god he was treating you like a prostitute
Your eyes roll back at the sheer intensity wondering how you are even alive right now, "Kento- ah…hah~" you moan as your voice cracks, "Fuck- so perfect, so dirty and wet all for me hah", his hand bruised your skin where ever they touched
Your brain is so cock drunk you drool as he keeps going. He flips you over burying your face in the pillow roughly, his grip hard on your head and neck choking you all out as your vision goes white, "Kento- ah…I love you so much…I love your dick so much ah", you blurt out and choke even more as his grip on your neck makes you faint as you clench around him desperately not wanting to let go
"Oh yeah? Do you love my dick? Then take it like a good bitch! Don't dare let a single drop go to waste", his pace increases even more, making you go numb from sheer pleasure as your hands mindlessly scramble to grip the sheets to hold on for dear life as moans spill out from your mouth like a porn actress
"So fucking good!" he grunts and tosses his head back pussy drunk, you felt so good around him he can fuck you for days and nights just like that.
"ah- hah Kento-" you moan crazily as he and you reach the peak of your animalistic rut and desire, "Naughty girl.." he moans as he shudders with his climax approaching and he cums inside you hard painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim inside your womb, "You'll break my dick" he groaned as he panted heavily
"Hah…Kento…'tis so full ah…" you feel your brain short circuit as you knock yourself out dumb oozing out cum
Looking at you so fucked up, so messy, aroused him even more, his eyes darkens again with insanity behind them, "Don't knock yourself out now…you asked for this..I'm not gonna stop until you're a quaking mess" he whispers hotly near your ears nibbling on it as he sees his cum drip out of you; making his dick still hard enough to keep you up all night.
A full hand-on session of 'Technical Knockout' live; all by Nanami Kento for the love of his life
Link to masterlist!
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devilfic · 2 days
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❝right place, right time❞
VIII. whatever keeps you around.
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parts: previously plot: bruce has a proposal for you. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, brief discussion of slight suicidal ideation/martyrdom, drug (and the injection of drugs) mentions, you will not guess what trope I managed to include in here. words: 6.9k. a/n: plotting this series makes me feel like charlie day pointing at a wall of red string
“…You won’t like it.”
It's clear what you have to do. You'd realized it when Gordon came to you, so of course Bruce did too. If you were going to make this right, you would have to face this head on. "I know what I have to do," you start, "I need to lure him out."
Bruce's expression shifts. Whatever you've said seems to be the wrong answer, "That... won't be necessary."
"What? What else can I do?"
"What did Gordon tell you about Dimitri?"
Your head throbs as you recall the memory, "Uh... he said he believes I'm next on Dimitri's hit list. He also said Dimitri hadn't anticipated me being at the house."
"Right, because Russo didn't want anyone knowing where he was." Bruce turns to his computer and brings up Russo's file, "After his divorce and the death of his son, he holed up and started erasing himself from the internet. As far as his neighbors know, he was constantly alone. You already know how hard it was to find him on your own, and unless Dimitri knew someone keeping tabs, it doesn't stand to reason that he found him any easier. But you, on the other hand," Bruce opens a search engine and types in your name. You're unsettled when the screen fills with results, most of them news articles from the night you'd been held hostage, "your name and face was everywhere after the gang war."
When the reporters had shoved cameras in your face and begged for you to tell them about Batman's heroic rescue, you hadn't thought twice about it, still fresh from the throes of gore and violence in the ER. Friends, family, coworkers: almost everyone you knew had seen it.
It clicks for you then, "If Dimitri planned on killing us both and I was easiest to find, why didn't he come for me first? I mean... it was me and Alex who ruined his life. If he wanted anyone dead more, wouldn't it be me?"
"I wondered the same thing. With the know-how and the right connections, anyone could find where you live just by name alone. Russo, on the other hand, is almost anonymous. It doesn't make sense why Dimitri would target Russo first."
"Do you think maybe it was a warning? Maybe he wanted to scare me."
"If he wanted to warn you, he wouldn't kill the guy in his house where no one checks up on him. Days would've passed before anyone noticed the flies in the windows."
"I don't get it."
"Do you remember how long it's been since you were taken hostage?"
Your mind lands on a weak estimate, "I don't know, a week and a half?"
"It's been over two weeks. According to the wardens, Dimitri stopped being a problem for them after the first few years. Friends with a rough crowd but he rarely got caught up in anything. Didn't have the heart to. So why, after 17 years, does he break out?"
Your stomach drops, "He saw me."
"And realized that while he was rotting away with nothing to live for, you were a hero," the word sickens you to hear, "on the front lines, saving lives, being saved. Your life went back to normal."
You grip the side of Bruce's desk with the sudden urge to vomit up everything you'd eaten today, which, frankly, wouldn't add up to much more than water and crackers.
You'd said it yourself: you'd gotten to live a life that Natalie, Dimitri, and Alex never would. Of course he wanted you dead. "So then I have to lure him out."
"And put yourself in danger? No."
"I’m already in danger, Bruce. What if he goes after the others? My parents? My coworkers? The other cops at the shootout? We have to end it now."
"This isn't the only way."
"It's the best way."
"Last time he had a knife, you could defend yourself. Barely. What if next time, he has a gun?"
"So what, you just want to do nothing?"
Bruce turns away from you. He gnaws on his lower lip, "No, I want to bide our time. Look into him more. I need to know if he's working with the Vipers again."
You watch him as he begins typing away at his computer, but you can't process what he's looking for through the haze of anger that washes over you. You lean on the desk, craning your neck up at his face to make him look at you, to understand how ridiculous he sounds, "We don't have time for that. His grudge is with me. I should meet him now and end this... either he gets what he wants or- or..."
Or what? Your stubbornness peters out. You don't know what. You see yourself standing face-to-face with Dimitri, his knife raised, ready to bury itself into the cushion of your chest. And nothing.
The you in this vision has no weapon.
"You don't think you're going to survive this." Coming out of your mind, Bruce is now looking at you, brows furrowed. He looks... mortified.
You scramble to cover your tracks, "That's not true. I'd have you there."
"But you don't want me there. You want to go alone. You think you deserve it."
"God, what are you? My therapist?" Your words flit out of your mouth in a rush, tongue nearly slipping up to defend yourself. You push away from the desk when you start feeling overexposed.
Bruce follows you, "You're not 16 anymore, this isn't some gang fight where you throw all your chips in because you can't see a year ahead of you. You've made a life. You've got people to lose, you said so yourself. I know what it's like... the survivor's guilt. You relive that day over and over-"
His words are making you feel sick to your stomach again and you lurch forward, finger in his face, "Don't you fucking preach to me-"
Almost as immediately as you'd raised your finger, Bruce snatches your wrist in his hand, yanking you close enough to be imposing, staring down at you with the same power that the Batman had used. It was so sudden that you quickly fall slack, wrist going limp in his grip.
It had completely sobered you of your tantrum, and for better or for worse, you were forced to listen to him, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and think. You see this ending with you dead because you want to make up for the shit you did. You think that's what Alex wants? For you to bleed out in an alley like she did?" And just like that, the fire roars in you once more, but your other hand can't slap him across the face before he's caught that one too, "No future? What about all the people you've saved? Could still save? Face it now because you may not get another chance: you're alive. Do you want to be or not?"
You want to hurt him, turn his skin red and give it a place among the other bruises that glitter and glare down his torso, and as your hand shakes in his hold, you are forced to understand that you are angry because he is right.
You'd felt this same anger before. When your parents told you Alex was a bad influence on you. When Russo looked you in the eye and told you that you didn't have it in you to pull the trigger. It was maddening. He had clocked your suicide mission before even you had, had seen you in his mind's eye the way you saw yourself: disarmed, a lamb to the slaughter, a sacrifice for the greater good, a speedbump.
You could see Batman tackling him to the ground over your dying body. You couldn't see yourself getting up the next day.
After the frustration leaves Bruce's eyes, he's looking at you with something softer. You feel known, uncomfortably so, as he waits for you to meet him there.
And when you do, you hate how you collapse into him. Even more, you hate that he takes you up into his arms, holding you steadfast, as understanding as you needed him to be with all your fear of admitting it. The solidness of his body reminds you of the night he'd first held you, and that just makes you cry harder.
It feels different from last time. Where there was armor is now warm skin, the likes of which you hadn't felt in a while. If you had told your past self you'd one day be standing in Batman's cave, hugging Bruce Wayne and crying over the permanence of your mistakes, you might have diagnosed yourself with head trauma.
You screw your eyes shut in a vain attempt to put the tears to rest, your freed hands practically clawing at Bruce's warm back for some purchase, some stability. He doesn't seem to mind. He just holds you closer.
After a few minutes, you force yourself to speak, sniffling away the last remaining tears you'd allow yourself to shed, "You said I wouldn't like it. Your plan. What is it?"
"To disappear."
You wrench yourself back. Bruce is dead serious. "What?"
"I've considered it from all angles-"
"What do you mean, 'disappear'?"
"All but one of the prisoners Dimitri broke out with are still missing. How do we know they're not all working together? How do we know that you luring him out won't draw them out too? You were the easiest target before, not anymore."
"Say what you mean, Bruce. What do you want me to do?"
"I want to hide you here," he winces as he says this, as if aware of his words only now that they're out in the open, "with me."
"You're shitting me."
After a while, Bruce's face hardens, "I told you you wouldn't like it."
Liking it or not liking it was nothing. You'd advanced past "like". You were firmly out of your depth here.
You slip out of Bruce's hold and he lets you, standing rather awkwardly as you rub a hand across your mouth. Despite earlier, it now feels uncomfortably dry. You glance at Bruce and then at his screen, the tab with your name and face plastered all over it hovering in the background. "You want me to disappear off the face of the earth while you track him down. Leave my home, leave the people I care about, abandon my job. You want me to hide."
"I don't know how else to protect you. Not until we figure out what we're up against." Bruce watches you spin away, scoffing into the air, "You noticed it when you fought him off, didn't you? Something was really wrong with him."
You see flashes of Dimitri's feral stare, the way he staggered and swung. He was like a rabid animal in a cage. "Of course there was, he was trying to kill me."
"Beyond that," Bruce insists, "he wasn't right. I've seen it before. He was on something."
"Most people are these days. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd... I don't know, gotten his hands on drops or something-"
"It wasn't drops. Gordon told me."
"The detective?"
"He said they found a syringe with traces of venom in it. Dimitri's shooting up. That's why he was so strong."
Your mouth drops open in disbelief, "Venom? Great. Somehow worse than Drops."
"If he's on that drug, he's definitely addicted. It also means you won't stand a chance against him. This is why I'm telling you to stay here," Bruce steps forward, eyes imploring yours. You're dumbstruck by the heavy earnestness there, "stay in the tower. Hide here for a few days. Let me handle this."
"If he's on venom, it means he doesn't think he can handle you on his own," you wring your hands, flitting through images of the Dimitri you remember, "he was always really small. Even at fourteen, he hadn't really sprung up. He was scrawny and small and couldn't defend himself. Suddenly Gordon's saying he's almost twice the size of what I remember. Have you ever fought someone on venom?"
"Once or twice, somewhere between fixes. Why?"
"General has this kind of... sedative that we use when we get patients dealing with the effects. It's not perfect, but it does help calm them down enough to help them. Maybe we can use it to help him."
"The strain is constantly changing," Bruce watches you deflate and clears his throat, "but if I can get that sedative, I can use it as a base to make a new one."
"You need clearance to get your hands on that stuff. I'm going with you."
"What part of disappear do you not understand?"
"One, I never agreed to do that, and two, if Batman gets caught stealing from a hospital, that'll make you public enemy number one. You need my help, so let me help you."
Bruce is looking away, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth even as you zero in on him. You're getting flashbacks of that same Bruce from when you'd first met him here in this tower. All tender-eyed, even as he tries to put on a face for you, "And I need a drink," you rub your temple next, catching a glimpse of Bruce watching you from his peripheral, "You've got those, don't you?"
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It turns out Bruce has plenty. There's a whole cellar full of them, the kinds you see in MTV Cribs with the low recessed lighting and mahogany shelves gleaming with polish. It makes sense for him to have it, but less so when he tells you he doesn't actually drink any of it.
"You weren't drinking at the party, either. Even though everyone else thought you were." You brush your hand along the shelves, careful not to knock any bottles loose. "Is that a trick to keep people spilling secrets? Or to keep from spilling your own?"
Bruce hovers near the entrance with his arms folded and back pressed to the wall, carefully watching you peruse his selection, "Maybe I don't like the taste."
"That's good. Men in Gotham die from alcoholism at a higher rate than any other city in the state."
"Really?"
"Really. You don't smoke either." Bruce blinks at you, "Just get shot at. And stabbed."
He says nothing.
Your hand lands on a red aged older than your mother and you stand to the side, looking expectantly at him. You're afraid that if you try to pick it up, you might knock down the whole row.
Slowly, Bruce pushes himself off the wall and glides over to you, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and looking to you for approval. You try not to shrink yourself when you nod.
You follow him out of the cellar, flinching when the lights dim behind you and the door rolls shut all on its own. He guides you to the kitchen where night still hangs over Gotham outside the window, but the time on the stove clock warns of early morning soon.
Bruce pulls out two glasses and fills yours with wine and his with cranberry juice from the fridge. You could almost laugh at the pairing.
Once he slides your glass to you, you take a seat at the island and take a sip, "I need to ask you something. I get now why you refused me at the station, but then you came back. Why did you change your mind? I mean, neither of us knew Russo would be dead when we got there. Were you just going to let me hate you?"
"Yes." His simple response draws a quick, stifled laugh out of you.
"Are you always this... chaotic?"
Bruce leans his elbows on the countertop, hunching in on himself, "I always meant to tell you who I was. I just didn't know when. And I didn't mind if you hated Bruce Wayne, but... you trusted Batman. I didn't want to break that trust. Even if it meant telling you earlier than I planned, I wanted to give you some closure."
You think about the fear that had paralyzed you back then, thinking that Bruce Wayne was some big, bad criminal hiding behind polite society. Then you think about the real man, hiding behind a mask. You fidget uncomfortably, struggling with feeling somewhere between grateful and nauseous. Your eyes catch the stitches on his shoulder and you itch to wipe away the dried blood that had dribbled from the cut, "You said you were looking for Dimitri when you got that. Did you..."
Bruce catches your eye when you fail to finish your question. "No," he answers solemnly, "which is only part of our problem." He stands to his full height, flexing bruised knuckles against the counter, "I ran into one of the guys that broke out with Dimitri tonight. That's who gave me this. Dimitri isn't working alone."
You frown, "Is he trying to shake you? Why leave clues at all?"
"Because these people want me dead. The guy from tonight? I booked him a year ago for trafficking women. Earlier led me to a fringe group of Falcone's."
"You've been looking for Dimitri all day?"
"I haven't stopped since we found Russo. I couldn't."
You rub your arms, feeling the room grow chiller by the second, "So... so he's leaving clues to people who hate you. To keep you occupied." Bruce nods. "So he can get to me?"
"After last night, he knows the Batman is on your side."
"Dimitri wasn't out when you got on the scene. Do you think maybe he's taking venom because these guys warned him about you?"
Bruce smirks, rolling his eyes as he takes a sip from his glass, "As a precaution, sure. And now he has reason to believe I know you. If he's going to go after you, he's going to shoot up each time."
"That stuff is nasty. You're big and scary when you're on it but as soon as the effects wear off-"
"You deflate like a balloon. It's also stupid expensive, so he's either got real generous prison pals or he's being used. It's why I need to know if he's working with the Vipers. They might be supplying him."
How you'd gone from an ordinary surgeon to a detective in the span of mere weeks was beyond you. You're beyond just treading water. You're diving into the abyss.
Your brain struggles to make real what is before you. Bruce, still shirtless, drinking delicately from a glass as he watches the night sky shimmer from the kitchen window. And you, sitting across from him, cracking open one of his family's expensive bottles that, frankly, puts your pantry vinos to shame. Playing vigilantes like schoolchildren. Except the blood on you both is very real.
Your arm throbs at being remembered for once tonight. Bruce notices you touch it, "You need to get some rest."
You know he's right, and you're not arguing for the sake of arguing when you say, "I can't sleep yet." But he can tell there's more on your mind as he waits silently, almost egging you on to lay yourself bare. You swear you're not arguing just for the sake of arguing, "And I don't want to disappear. I want to be alive."
Bruce says nothing. The silence isn't humiliating like you'd think it be, even if the first few seconds leave you feeling just as laid bare as you thought you would. No. It feels acknowledging. Understanding, even.
For the first time, you look at Bruce and feel like you understand him. If he was really Batman, then he would know better than anyone why you would want to put yourself in danger. But beneath that, with the meager knowledge of who Bruce Wayne is, you also think you understand him too.
He'd mentioned the survivor's guilt. While he'd played a much more innocent role in the whole ordeal, you couldn't imagine the weight on one's chest knowing that two people you love didn't get to go on but you did. It's a lot to ask of a child barely coming to understand the mortality of one's own keepers.
The choice to be alive for someone like that is a deliberate choice. Constantly made every morning.
"There is another way," Bruce muses, "but you'll like it even less."
"Don't leave me hanging."
"We could go public."
"What?"
"You said disappearing would mean abandoning your life. And it would. No one could know where you went, who you were with, but there's always the chance someone might slip up. It's the safest option but it's not what you want. So don't hide." Bruce's eye contact is deep and unwavering. Compared to earlier, he seems to trust you're willing to listen this time, "Be mine."
For the nth time tonight, you are rendered nearly speechless. Nearly. "Are you fucking with me?"
Bruce's eyes narrow, "No."
"Did you just... proposition me?"
"I made a proposal."
"You're asking me to date you."
"Publicly. Batman has more enemies than allies, but Bruce Wayne has the people. If you and I are publicly linked, it tells everyone looking for you that the world is watching. It makes you more visible, as well as anyone who comes after you."
"You haven't slept," you reason, "clearly. And you're delirious."
"I haven't slept, no." But he looks fairly sober for someone who hasn't slept in a day. He is a different breed, this Bruce Wayne.
You peer out the kitchen window and see the black sky dipping into a blue horizon, "Then sleep on it and come up with something better."
Bruce rounds the island until he's standing beside you, looking down at your barely touched wine, "There's some spare rooms upstairs. You can take your pick." It dawns on you that you may not be going back home any time soon. "You know your way around."
You suppose you deserve that dig.
Then he's leaving you, glasses abandoned, home for you to explore. You don't realize how thick the air had gotten with him right next to you until he's gone.
You half-expect Alfred to pop up somewhere nearby, but there's nothing. This far up, there is no city to listen for, no neighbors slamming doors. You are in a cold house all alone. You suddenly wish he'd stayed to keep you company, even if the weight of it was beginning to take its toll on you. Left alone, you only had the sunrise.
You watch until the sky has all but chased the night away, and then you head upstairs.
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You didn't think you'd get much sleep in a stranger's bed, but you're being roused by a sharp, successive rapping at your door several hours later. It jolts you awake, kick-starting your heart, and you clumsily tumble out of the million thread count sheets to open the door.
Alfred stands there fully dressed for the day, one hand tucked in his pocket and the other still raised to knock. Upon seeing you, he lowers his fist, "Morning," he starts, looking away as soon as he meets your eyes, "breakfast is ready. Come get it before it's cold."
He does not give you a choice in the matter. He's already limping toward the staircase without another word.
After you get your heart to settle down, you follow after him, preening yourself as you pass hallway mirrors and portraits of the Wayne family through the generations. You hadn't come down this hallway when you'd found the terminus elevator, so you stumble to a stop in front of a portrait of a young Bruce grinning ear to ear.
It startles you. His eyes are soft, a gentle humming blue untouched by wrinkle or darkness. He must've been especially young here. Glancing at a nearby portrait of his parents, you find him the spitting image of his father. You look around and realize there are no portraits of Bruce at this age.
Bruce. He might be at breakfast, and the mere thought of having to discuss what occurred last night almost turns you right back around to the guest room, but your stomach rumbling begs you not to. You still walk quietly, peering around corners in case your stomach changed its mind.
You find you're cautious for naught when the only person standing in the kitchen is Alfred, chopping up fresh fruit.
"I hope you don't mind that I moved your things," he gestures with his paring knife to your surgical tools neatly congregated on the counter, "I cleaned them too."
"Oh. You didn't need to do that."
"There was blood, so I'm afraid I did." Alfred places a bit of pressure on "blood", and you quickly take note of his short tone.
Still, all the same, he then gestures to the island and implores you take a seat in front of an empty plate. Without asking, he begins pushing steaming hot food onto your plate, "Tea or coffee?" He asks, barely looking up at you.
"Uh, coffee is fine. Thanks." You watch Alfred pour you a mug and wonder if the awkwardness with him is any more preferable to the awkwardness with Bruce. Alfred is passive-aggressive, Bruce is... aggressive. You remember how the latter had left off your night together and find yourself feeling warmer toward Alfred. "How long have you been up?"
"Since 6, although I woke a few times through the night."
You wince, "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. I did think Bruce had invited you over under different circumstances, so... not as alarming, all things considered." Your grip on your fork slips and it clatters to the marble. Alfred barely reacts.
"He needed stitches." Is all you can get out.
"Yes, I'm well aware."
You glance up at him, "You saw?"
"When he first arrived home, yes. I was the one who helped stop the bleeding."
You stare at the coffee sweating in your cup, recalling something Bruce had mentioned last night, "Bruce said you were the one who used to stitch him up."
"Yes."
"If you were there, why-"
"It's what he pays you for, isn't it?" Alfred almost snaps back at you, slicing a strawberry into quarters with more edge than needed.
You recall something else next. The softness in Alfred's face the day you first came here, arguing with Bruce in the very room next door. You'd wondered what it had all been about.
"I've done alright, haven't I?"
"He said something else too," you start, careful as you choose your next words, "about how much you worry about him." You fiddle with your mug, pretending not to feel the heat of Alfred's eyes on you, "I think the reason he hired me is because he was worried about you."
You just catch the tail-end of Alfred's frown, "Worried about me? Why?"
You probably aren't close enough to either of these two to laugh about this, but you do anyway, "Isn't it kind of obvious?"
"Nonsense. We always discussed... if it would come to it, that if he were to pursue this life further, that he would recruit professionals who might aid him in his work. It was the natural thing to do."
"Maybe, yeah. But would he have really needed me if you weren't already doing everything else for him? You've taken good care of him this long. I mean, the aftercare you gave his bullet wound was exceptional. I accused him of talking to other doctors."
Alfred busies himself with scraping his strawberry halves into a bowl, "It's basic knowledge. You learn that kind of thing in the service."
"Or when you invited me to watch you two spar. You know his body probably better than he does. You're fantastic, Alfred." You couldn't say you weren't also trying to butter him up to better his feelings toward you, but you were speaking truth all the same.
In a very British way, he rebuts your compliments and spoons some fruit into a glass, beginning to layer some yogurt over top them, "Regardless of reason, you are here now, and I'll have you know that every part of your contract covers this. Wayne Enterprises will exhaust every possible legal tool at our leisure if you speak of any—any—of this to anyone. Master Bruce's identity is safely guarded, and regardless of his trust in you, I will not hesitate-"
"Whoa, whoa, hey. I would never tell anyone. Not after all Batman has done for me." You press a hand over your heart for emphasis, "He is just as much my patient as Bruce Wayne is, and he didn't have to pay me to take care of him."
Alfred still stares you down like a guard dog, paring knife still clutched in his fingers. After a moment, he looks away from you and points at your plate, "Eat. It's getting cold."
So you do. It's good so you say as much, counting any point toward his affection as a good thing. If you could get Alfred to trust you, you'd call that a win.
The tension in the air dissipates over time, and after you've licked your plate clean, you and Alfred are sharing coffee together. "Bruce isn't joining us?"
"I've stopped expecting him to be awake this early." You glance at the clock that reads 10:12. "He has adopted a near-fully nocturnal lifestyle."
"The night that he crawled through my window, he was there at the hospital the next morning like nothing happened. He doesn't do that often?"
"Before last year, it was a rare occurrence. While he's dedicated himself to his role more recently, if he can avoid it, he will."
You think back to what knowledge you do have on Bruce's charity work and his friendship with the Mayor. You'd worked shifts just as long, but you couldn't imagine showing up to work mere hours after getting shot in the stomach and having to put on a brave face about it. You almost feel bad for calling him out on it in front of everyone.
But then again, if you hadn't, would you even be sitting here?
You swirl the last vestiges of coffee in your cup, trying to picture a world in which you'd gone and found that empty office to nap in instead of toddling behind Rudy and Em and Alfred and Batman. The Batman.
The novelty of it brings a fresh wave of dizziness over you. You had been exposed to so much information over the course of the last 12 hours that it hadn't fully settled in on you what Bruce was. You didn't think that your brain would process it even if he was standing in cowl and cape right in front of you.
"I suppose you'll be staying with us for the near future, if Bruce has anything to say about it," Alfred stands from his chair beside you and puts your dishes in the sink, "shall I inform your security detail or would you like to?"
You don't know what to say to that. "I'm... I think I should talk this over with Bruce first. It may not need to come to that."
The butler shrugs. "I'll be attending to some house duties for the rest of the morning. Should you stay for lunch, let Dory know, hm?" You give him a weak nod and watch as he makes his way from the sink and heads down another hallway out of sight.
Not too long after Alfred leaves you, you hear the doorbell ring. Bruce hadn't mentioned to you that any guests would be here today, but then again, the two of you had had more important things to discuss last night. You check your reflection in the glass of the kitchen window, wondering if there were any hidden doors in the bookcases that could hide you from whatever Wayne Enterprises exec that was coming to talk business, but you wouldn't trust yourself not to break something in the process.
You hear two pairs of footsteps approaching from the elevator and turn to see who it might be. You first recognize Dory, fluttering between frantic small talk and making sure not to trip in her kitten heels as she guides her guest into the living room. You stiffen as soon as you see him.
Detective Gordon catches your eyes instantly, his own widening. Dory says something about going to fetch Bruce before she quickly ascends the stairs, leaving you and James staring at each other across the distance. In one hand is a notepad and pencil, and the other fixes his tie, almost as if at a loss for words. He greets you, hesitantly leaving where Dory had left him to approach you, "I saw the boys out front but... I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither." You reply. "Is everything okay?"
James glances up at the stairs as he passes underneath, "That depends. I followed up on your request."
Shit. Of course a cop would do their job when you least expect it. You slip out of your chair and rush to meet him halfway into the kitchen, "Did... did you find something?"
"I can't say much right now. I'd like to talk to Mr. Wayne, but-" The sound of Dory's heels clacking against the wooden stairs makes James lower his voice, "-you being here complicates things."
Bruce is wearing a shirt this time, thankfully, though you're not expecting him to look as put together this early after what Alfred had said. He towers behind Dory's much smaller frame in a pair of loose black pants and a matching turtleneck, looking in a fashionable state of undress as he pads barefoot into the room. With hair slicked back and stubble freshly shaved, he doesn't look like someone caught unaware. He's fixing the sleeve of his sweater when he extends a hand to Detective Gordon, bright smile and all, "Detective James Gordon, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Mr. Wayne, I'm sorry for dropping in unannounced. If this is a bad time, I can come back." James gestures to you.
Bruce's look at you is empty, devoid of any detectable emotion or thought. It strikes you as unsettling, the same way a cashier at the end of their shift isn't really looking at you, "Oh, no. I was just on my way to work when I felt unwell. I called my doctor over but it was nothing to worry about. A little stomach bug, is all."
You do look like you'd just come over in a rush. You're still in your lounge clothes from the night before, and your medical supplies are still in the kitchen where Alfred had left them. James seems to notice, but he doesn't look any more relaxed. "That's good to hear. I don't want to keep you too long, but truth is, I have some questions I'd like to ask you if you have the time."
"Is something wrong?" James glances between you and Bruce, something the latter doesn't miss, "is it sensitive?"
"It's about the party you threw here the other night, Mr. Wayne. For Mayor Reál. I hear you invited quite a few Gotham politicians to celebrate the passing of the mayor's new bill, correct?"
"That's correct."
"And I understand you're quite invested in Gotham politics in general, much like your father."
"I am. My mother and father were very interested in the city, and Mayor Reál breathed new life into that for me after the election. I do what I can to support the cause."
"And that cause is...?"
Bruce takes the skeptical tone on the chin, smiling wider, "A safer, fairer Gotham. For everyone."
This Bruce was nothing like the Bruce you had all to yourself. He taps into that persona from the party with ease. Watching him is like watching a performance. "That's good, good. I notice you try to make an effort with charities in the city, donations and the like. You recently donated a new wing to Gotham General."
"I did. Increasing access to medical care for the citizens is important to me. My doctor, a talented surgeon at General, knows this well." You flash a timid smile when both Bruce and James look to you.
"And you also financially support politicians in Gotham."
"Occasionally. Anyone I feel has Gotham's best interests in mind."
"And have you found members of Gotham's political parties to be unusually forward in requesting your support, Mr. Wayne? Perhaps a little too pushy, maybe."
Bruce wears confusion well, "Not necessarily. I'm not easily pressured into doing things I have no interest in."
"Of course. How about any attempts to win over your support? Publicly or otherwise."
"I'm not sure what you're asking, detective. I'd love to help, but I don't think I have the information you're looking for."
James nods, holding his chin high, "My apologies. I should've been clear from the beginning. My question is: have any politicians or members of law enforcement offered you anything in exchange for your financial or public support? I have reason to believe there may be someone with high clearance exchanging confidential information with civilians. Especially ones who can pay. I'm just looking for a lead."
James frames his question well, even though any fat cat familiar with the cops could see the hidden question. Bruce frowns, tilts his head, shaking it slowly, "That's awful. I don't currently know of anyone doing such a thing, to me or anyone else. But I can keep an eye out. I can only imagine how dangerous that might be."
"Exactly. We'd like to nip it in the bud as soon as possible."
"Of course. Do you have a card? Perhaps I can contact you if I hear anything."
James fishes out his card and hands it over, "I don't want to put you in a bad position, only pass along what you know if you feel safe enough to do so."
You notice Bruce is flicking the business card between his fingers as a fidget, though he keeps his attention respectfully on the detective. "Absolutely. Thank you, detective. Dory can show you to the door."
The detective nods and follows Dory out of the room. As soon as the two are out of earshot, Bruce's expression softens as he presses his back into the counter. You wish you could sink into the floor. "To be fair," you begin, "I didn't think he'd find anything."
Bruce side-eyes you, "That was you?"
"I thought my criminal boss was going to blackmail me to keep his secrets."
"Criminal boss." You think he's trying to mock you, but his eyes are surprisingly guilty when he looks at you, "Alfred wasn't kidding. I really didn't handle this well."
"No, not really." You don't mean to kick him while he's down, but you can't lie either. Even now, you were still making meaning out of this whole thing.
By all means, you've gone from knowing nothing about him, to understanding even less, to fearing him, to this. With Batman on the other hand, you'd felt nothing but loyalty and trust in him up until the very last second. Now they were both the same person, and the meager hours of sleep you'd gotten hadn't cleared all that up just yet.
You wonder who you're supposed to see now. Batman or Bruce Wayne? Why was the line separating them blurring the more you thought of them?
"So, did you ever come up with a better idea?"
Bruce does not offer one. You'd dreaded that.
"You already know what I think. No matter how we go about this, there's going to be something. So what do you want to do?" Bruce's eyes follow your ever minute expression, laser-focused on you. "Whatever you choose, I will keep you safe. I promise you."
He feels so staunchly Batman in this moment, even with the soft voice of Bruce, watching over you. Through all your uncertainty, this you believe him on.
And you're exhausted, you find. Your arm is beginning to throb again. You crave the reprieve of a bed but not your own, to your surprise.
"I'm going to trust you, Bruce," your voice wobbles as you say it out loud, "I'm going to trust you like I trust Batman."
Bruce holds eye contact with you for a few moments, "Okay."
"Can I ask... why are you dressed so nice?"
"We're going to get the sedative."
"You're going as Bruce?"
"It's the middle of the day. Yes, I'm going as Bruce. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
You fluster, suddenly reconsidering this entire plan. You'd pictured Batman skulking on the rooftop while you Mission Impossible'd your way into the medicine cabinets for what you needed. Walking in with him—the real him—would draw attention you didn't need, "You're only going to make me look suspicious."
"I'm your patient, and more importantly, I'm a donor."
"You will stick out like a sore thumb."
"That means when people are looking at me, they're not looking at you." You open your mouth to argue but he's already cutting you off, "Do you want me to drop you off at your place or do you want me to send someone to get your things?"
You're aware of what he's really asking.
You heave a sigh, "Drop me off. I can't promise Judith won't hurt someone if she finds a stranger in my house."
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a/n: mj stop having the reader move in with bruce when their life is put in imminent danger challenge impossible
taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes​ @wnstice @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday @moony-toasts @sketchiethebear @trawberry-fire @hangmanscoming @agent-scorpio @julesjewelss36 @chonkercatto @dcgoddess @hollandorks @anotherr-fine-mess @miriamnox @dumdumsun @phoenixgurl030 @marvelouskatie @swangelss @millercontracting @aivlisdecolores @geeksareunique @xxrougefangxx @theres-a-bea @keepingitlokiii
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lil huggy - Hughes Sister
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@yn.hughes : since no one invited jacky to their games I came to see him
tagged : @jackhughes
location : somewhere in lil jerz
jackhughes : thanks for being the ONLY ONE OF MY 3 SIBLINGS to give a fuck about me 💓🤬
↪ yn.hughes : of course my jacky boy! they dont call me 'the best sister EVER" for nothing. thanks for playing me a lil guitar and attempting to cook my fav meal 💓💓
↪ _quinnhughes : "they" dont call you 'the best sister EVER' at all🫨
↪ lhughes_08 : I will be staying out of this... but take that horrible pic of us down right now please and thanks 🤡🤡
nicohischier : dang @jackhughes cooks for @yn.hughes but cant order a few pizzas for the team!?
dawson1417 : I see you forced jack to take you to the bakery again.. 😭
↪ yn.hughes : first of little boy, rude.. second off even littler boy, it was a mutual want 😤
jesperbratt : everything's a photoshoot w u is2g
↪ yn.hughes : ARE U COMPLAINING ABOUT SEEING MY BEAUTIFUL FACE !?!?!?!??!?!?
↪ jesperbratt : no. but yes. I see it enough through facetime I feel🤷🏻‍♀️
tmeier96 : my favorite hughes by far. ❤️‍🔥
↪ yn.hughes : SEE SOMEONE HAS GOOD tASTe ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
lhughes_06 : ur really gonna leave that pic of us w willy on the internet and jack and Quinn are gonna be ok w it!?🤨🤨🤨
↪ yn.hughes : yes 🫷🏻
↪ _quinnhughes : yes 🫷🏻🫷🏻
↪ jackhughes : yes bc u suck 🫷🏻🫷🏻🫷🏻
tofff73 : I personally think u have great fashion sense. u should style some of the team on game days tbh 😬😬
john.marino : still cant believe jack knows how to play guitar🤩
_quinnhughes : why do you always have a hat on but never on ur head
↪ yn.hughes : its called fashion look it up brother 🤑
pally_18 : SO JACK DOES KNOW HOW TO COOK !?!?!?!?!!?🫨
bssmith : MY FAVORITE PART TIME DEVIL!❤️🖤
ehaula :😬😬
curtislazar95 : are you still here I wanna seeee you!
A.N:
hi there I tried to write this last night and just couldn't so here's this and get ready for more bc I have beeen jamming w my daughter for 20 min to old 5 seconds of summer songs and I got ideasss! I am gonna clear out my drafts this week and then make sure you guys send in them requests!
Tags : @lukey-pookie-hughes43 and @skylershines and my newest addition @quinnylouhughesx43
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ADDITIONALLY TO MY ASK FOR 4897
Children cant fucking consent to sex. AND THAT MEANS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH IT.
I know the way interaction works with fics is more iffy but it still fucking applies.
No one is talking about purity culture or "innocent kids" or that kids arent allowed to write.
Like... Imagine this. You go to a convention and there a child selling sexually explicit material (highly unlikely for a REASON) and you buy it. Well now you are in trouble for sexually exploiting a child.
Say you give a child sexually explicit material. Now you are in trouble for endangering children.
These laws exist for a reason. Not just to keep us and children safe, but to make sure there arent loopholes for predators to use to groom children. And lets face it, do you really want those laws to go away? Just so a child can post bad smut on the internet?
No i dont think you SHOULD.
Its not a question about whether its "bad" or "immoral" for a child to have an interest in sex. Its a question about how much can people take advantage of them.
A lot of children who post smut online think they are immune to grooming, which is really fucking dangerous. Children don't need to put their interest in sex on a giant billboard post on the internet. They really really REALLY DON'T. and they most certainly dont even need to be telling people they are a minor in the first place. Children have gotten way too comfortable showing their faces and alot of other personal information that can endanger them. Im an adult and even i dont put my exact age or name on my profiles.
Posting as a response to a previous problem, seemingly the same anon as the previous post.
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vampiresgambit · 1 day
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I wanted to show off my Yuma cosplay! I get embarrassed showing my face on the internet… which is strange because I have Instagram. I don’t know why that is :p
I’m having so much at MomoCon. I was so surprised when a lot of people knew who I was. So many people took my picture. Very flattered! There was even someone selling a Rain Code print! I pulled out my wallet so fast! My friend cosplayed Yakou and we got a lot of silly pictures together. The booth selling the print had a buy 2 get 1 free sale and we played rock paper scissors to see who got it. The person running the booth said it was very in character. :)
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lackablazeical · 1 day
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Hazbin Hotel bouta make me homophobic just yall wait
OKAY SO VOX. So I wanted him to be a really strong visual opposite to my design of alastor, mainly in shapes and colors. So Vox has a much larger, thicker, rounder silhouette and shape to Alastors starved appearance. His colors are also very bright and heavily contrast w/ eachother, very few midtones, to contrast alastors greyscale pallete.
I changed his death/backstory a lot. To me, I feel like it makes more sense to have Vox be way more caught up with modern internet and tech, so he's much more modern (also cus like. Obvi newer generations of sinners would overtake older generations bc of technologies and culture changes etc etc)
So now, Vox was an internet troll who constantly argued and stuff online. He had an underlying heart condition, only made worse by his unhygienic and unhealthy lifestyle, that culminated in going into cardiac arrest in front of his computer during a particularly heated debate.
He has no face now, gives more leeway for his TV to be expressive. He also has no forearms, just cus it looks cool (and now he can connect to computers while still typing/using hands for other things)
Also Vox and Val aren't like FWB the V's are just a family okay. Said what I said
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spade-riddles · 2 days
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Do you think Levi is Kaylor child?
I do not think that Karlie and Taylor have a child named Levi. Here is why ...
Karlie did an interview when she was pregnant with her first child, and she specifically said that she was going to keep her child private. She then proceeded to call the paps while wearing a necklace that said 'Levi' on it after he was born. My recollection is that the first time she wore it few people noticed it, so the next day she wore a larger version of the necklace/name. Keep in mind these were the typical staged pap walks on the streets of NYC. So she wanted this necklace seen.
I do not pay enough attention to the pics we see of the kid(s) to give a proper opinion on whether we are always seeing the same child or not. We never really see the second child so I will leave him out of this. But Karlie also made sure that the first child (Levi) was seen by the paps staring right at the camera. The photos were not blurred out like this one in the DailyMail:
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There is no way those photos of his face (not blurred) get published unless she wanted Levi's face to be seen. She also shows Levi quite a bit (pap walks, ads, instagram), which is the exact opposite of what she said she would do in her interview. So I have a hard time believing Levi is her child. I could see him being Jerk's child (although Jerk does not seem very affectionate with him).
Levi and another small child (assumed to be Karlie's second son) were sitting on Charles and Sheryl Kushner's laps at the Karlie street sign ceremony. The Kloss family appeared to ignore both children and the Kushners (based on the photos we saw). So I lean toward these two boys being Jerk's and Mikey's kids. The Levi name was definitely chosen to connect to Jerk's family.
I know plenty of people do not agree with me, but do we really think that Taylor and Karlie are letting their kids sit on the Kushner criminal parents laps at that ceremony? We don't believe anything else that Karlie and Jerk try to sell (dating, engagement, marriage, etc). Karlie keeps her personal life private, yet Levi is all over the internet. So why would we believe this public display of her family?
Of course I also have a hard time ignoring that Taylor wore pink on the night Jerk announced a baby's birth (presumed to be Levi's but the caption was generic),
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as well as all of this:
I respect those who disagree with this, and it is a bit of a touchy subject.
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honeipie · 3 hours
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THE WIFE
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izuku midoryia x reader
synopsis: you’ve been asked to do an interview after your husbands cute little story blew up. now it’s your turn to express your love for him
authors note: to the anon who did the ask i am SO SORRY. i posted it by accident then fucking deleted it in a panic.. don’t worry though i got the gist of it! for the people who don't know it was getting the reader's POV of how they fell in love with izuku as well. also sorry if i went a little off track. i js wanted to give reader a lil opinion and personality ☺️
you can find part one here
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this was out of your comfort zone.
you sat in a plush chair across from a woman who was currently fiddling with the microphones. your husband izuku had done an interview with a popular podcast about a month ago. it wasn’t only popular because he was the number one hero. there was a charm to the episode that others couldn’t fake. the way he talked about you as if you showed him colors for the first time. everyone loved it.
now people really wanted to get into the lives of the midoryia’s, which included you. about a week ago you had gotten an offer to be on another podcast. you made sure to check out some of her work before you leaped into it.
the host's name was aiya, and she was absolutely amazing. not only were you laughing with the one episode you did listen to, but so did izuku since he was kind enough to watch with you.
"are you ready mrs. midoryia?" aiya asked going to put on the headphones. taking your own set of headphones, you placed them on as well.
"i am! plus you can just call me y/n. i really don't mind"
"thanks for letting me know," she clicked a button on her computer which started the camera up "hello everyone! it's aiya here! on this special episode we have the wonderful, and very lovely y/n midoryia in the building"
you gave a shy smile and waved to the camera "hello everyone!" you faced the aiya letting her smile ease your tensions "i just wanted to say thank you before we start. not only for inviting me on your podcast, but just being so respectful and kind as well"
aiya nodded placing both hands over her heart "you're just too kind! but girl you don't have to thank me for doing the bare minimum"
"no i really do have to. because there are a lot of other people out here that i've talked to and are not as professional and sweet like you. it's really crazy" you shook your head when you heard yourself start to get off topic "i'm sorry i don't want to control this whole interview. i think i got the rambling from my husband through the years"
both you and aiya laughed at your statement.
"don't worry about it! this is not a place where i will every cut you off from rambling, seriously. plus i want to get into some of that as well. what is your experience with the whole ‘being a wife of the number one hero’ thing? like you said before people can be unusually cruel to you for absolutely no reason"
you scoffed dramatically making aiya laugh.
"so when people ask me this in person, which has never happened ever" you made direct eye contact with the camera before turning back. this had aiya laughing more now than before "being married to izuku is great, but being married to deku can be.. iffy on my end. does that make sense?”
"yes and no"
"okay so what i mean is that being deku's wife is stressful. not only because of the major backlash that i get from the internet, tabloids, and gossip shows, but also because of my safety. the backlash is something that doesn't go away but gets easier as time goes on. for me it was easier to just laugh at how stupid they are. like one article called me fat, cool, but then another one from the same company called me pile of bones skinny" you tilted you head slapping one hand down on your thigh "now you just look fucking stupid because you can't pick one and clearly can't run a business. cause like how didn't you know that both of these articles were coming out?" you shook your head "they piss me off more than make me upset"
aiya listened carefully letting you go on with your rant.
"but when i say i love being izuku’s wife i really mean it. i love that man more than i love anyone else. i love the way he looks when he wakes up in the morning. i love the way he gets excited every time we see cows when we're driving. he is who i was meant to be with and i believe that with my whole heart. i see deku and izuku as two totally different people because i get to see it from both perspectives. i can understand how some people might not understand where i’m coming from with this and that’s okay. this is just how i’ve been able to express the way i feel about the whole situation”
“wow.. thank you so much for sharing your point of view on things. i hope this really opens the eyes to some of the haters out there”
“ugh me too” you played with the ring on your finger “i feel bad now. when this episode airs i can just imagine what he’s gonna say, ‘oh so my episode was me spewing my undying love for you and all i get is i hate my husband?’”
the two of you laughed thinking about it.
“no, but we’ve seriously talked about it before and he understands where i’m coming from. i love that he’s so understanding about everything”
“speaking of love,” aiya pulled out a piece of paper coming from her lap “we’ve got questions”
you clapped your hands together excitedly.
“oh! hit me”
“okay so of course deku did a podcast episode where he made all of us singles jealous by describing the moment he fell in love with you. so now people are wondering what was the moment you fell in love with him?”
you had been preparing for this question ever since you read the email.
“i actually fell in love with izuku pretty early in our relationship. maybe like a month in? i’ve honestly had a crush on him since year one, but we never got the chance to interact.”
it was early off in your third year when you had come down with a bad fever. the only reason you could assume the sickness took over you was because everyone had just moved back into the dorms. bringing whatever kind of diseases they wanted back.
“hi izuku”
the phone was placed on the pillow beside your head. you didn’t have enough energy to hold it up. hell, you’re surprised you even had enough energy to accept the call. everything on your body was just hot. they only thing you felt you needed was a cold compress on your forehead, but getting up just wasn’t an option at the moment.
“y/n you’re making me worried. are you sure you don’t need recovery girl?”
“i should be okay,” you stopped in the middle of your sentence to take in a long breath “plus i don’t think she could help with what i have anyway”
izuku was slipping on his training uniform as he was talking to you. he didn’t know if you could hear yourself, or if you even cared, but he could probably picture what you looked like. comforter thrown to the floor. medicine bottles scattered on your dresser and not knowing which one to choose.
“are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“i should be fine izu. just focus on- on training for the festival. bye now”
izuku had wanted to get a couple more sentences in to ease his anxiety, but you quickly hung up the phone without a second thought.
once you found yourself a semi-comfortable position you took the chance of drifting off to sleep.
the nap lasted about thirty minutes before you woke up to the feeling of a cold compress being laid onto your forehead. slowly, your eyes opened to reveal your boyfriend making sure it was in the right spot.
“izu” you mumbled going to sit up but he placed his hands on your shoulders laying you back down.
“nope, you’re resting”
he still had his training uniform on from the time you had called him.
“but you shouldn’t be here. you should be training”
the newfound coolness on your forehead felt amazing, and part of you wished he had came sooner.
“i can take a day or two off. it’s fine”
you shook your head gently.
“i don’t want you to miss it because of me”
“y/n are you me?”
“no”
“are you my teacher?”
“no, but-“
“then don’t worry about it. your health means more to me than training. i’ve been working hard for the past two years, so if i have to take a day or two off to take care of my girlfriend then i’m jumping at the opportunity”
it was right then and there you felt some of the weight lift of your shoulders. this felt like confirmation of what you had assumed you were feeling from the moment you first saw him.
you loved him.
you loved him so, so much.
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taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾
lmk if you’d like to be added
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fudgelling-away · 1 day
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You are my favourite sans person, so i wanna ask you, what do you think his singing voice would sound like??? I don't know if it would be similar to his speech which I imagine is like a deeper baritone sort of thing, OR, he's one of those dudes who sounds drastically different depending on what he's doing.
he's sexy either way though🤫🤫
I've been thinking about this ask for the past several days 😳
That is such a sweet thing to say!!! Thank you for telling me this, I appreciate you reaching out so much!
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To answer your question, I think Sans would be very skilled in modulating his voice.
I imagine him being an expert in communication - that means not only having an uncanny ability to read your face like an open book, but also being able to masterfully control his own expression and the message that his voice and his body language send.
(note: this has nothing to do with controlling emotions, that's a whole another topic)
That's also why his ability to lie is straight up scary. This man could sell you the most otherwordly ideas in a believable way and you would never know.
Sans is scary. The power he wields IS scary, and I do not mean piercing bones. He's one scary little cookie and I love him so much-
Also, isn't it amazing that he never uses those talents to abuse others? We as the Players commit atrocities and treat the in-game world like our playground. There are also all these other characters who misuse their strength and influence in a destructive, careless way. And on the other side there is Sans. Intelligent, powerful, both in battle and in soft skills.
He is so- ah, you know what I mean?! He could, but he doesn't! He's got all the abilities necessary to become the scariest predator ever seen, and he chooses not to.
But I digress.
HAVING SAID ALL THAT, I think he would be a very good singer in his natural vocal range.
As I have mentioned before, he can read you very well. That means he recognizes each tiny change in your voice. In the game we can also see the way his text speech changes, many times, in different ways. It, of course, is not THAT important - we are discussing headcanons anyway ♡ But I really like that about him, too.
I don't see anything stopping him from using all that knowledge and talent to sing well (if he wanted to).
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I'd love to share with you who is my voice for Sans, but I can't. He actually is a singer. I have never seen him linked to Sans in any way whatsoever, so I really don't want to put his name out there.
But that's such a good voice... Oh man...
It's deep, of course, but with a totally unique timbre. I have never heard any voice similar to it, and it's so... It's so pleasant to my ears! It's smooth, and ahhh I can't explain it. It has got that special something... Those undertones that feel and taste like SANS. That relaxed, though positive and attentive manner of speech. Ah. I am obsessed with it.
And I have found it by a total accident. Several months ago I was driving, minding my own business, there was radio playing in the background, and at one point they started to play an old song from the 1980s.
30 seconds in and I'm like, oh shit. No.
1 minute in and I am starting to sweat.
No.
no
no no no-
YEEEEEESSS!
[IMAGINE: A STREAM OF HAPPY EXPLETIVES]
That was an epiphany.
The feeling was euphoric.
SANS
sans sans
ASDDASDASFSSASA
I have no memory of the rest of the drive, but THAT VOICE.
I came back home. I looked up the radio station on the internet. I checked what they played an hour earlier.
And I found out who it actually was.
Immediately I went searching for some recorded interviews and yesss, there they were, perfectly available on youtube...
I spend a couple of hours every week listening to those interviews while I am working or drawing. That voice is ingrained in my brain now. That's my Sans' voice.
I am so sorry I can't show it to you.
--------------------------- Let me know what YOU think! ♡
I love to read different headcanons and ideas.
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wcbbfics · 1 day
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WILDFLOWER (part 1)
summary - sophia and paige had been close friends for a long time but now they both have a secret. sophia is hiding something from paige about her past. and paige is hiding her real feelings for soph.
some suggestive content. word count 1.6k
paige x uconn student
authors note: first fic please be nice. Hope you like it!
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“ok so boom” you hear kk yell at her phone, she’s been on live for 15 minutes dancing around with aubrey. she keeps reading the comments aloud and paige yells at her cause they usually have something to do with her.
paige and i are sitting in the kitchen eating chic fila. I glance up at her, her bright blue eyes are focused on her phone. i lean over to see what she’s looking at. she quickly turns her phone away and and doesn’t look at you.
paige stands up and walks over to the fridge she grabs out a white claw for you and opens it “here you go baby” she says to you sliding over the white claw. baby? paige only ever calls you pet name when she’s drunk. paige has been giving you butterfly’s every day since you guys met at azzis birthday party.
“can you get me a glass for this?” you ask because the uconn girls aren’t supposed to be drinking and you don’t want the live to see. paige goes to the cabinets and grabs a cup then she walks over to you and grabs the drink. her long hands flexed as she opened the can and poured it in.
You get up and follow paige as she walks over to the living room where kk, aubrey, and ice are all on the couch talking to kks phone. paige sits down in the only available seat left. and you stand there not know where to sit. you glance at paige as realization sparks in her eyes. she taps her inner thigh while holding eye contact with you. a smirk forming on her lips. you oblige and walk over to the chair and sit on paige’s thighs. you can feel her muscles flexing at your touch. but once you get comfortable paige’s body immediately relaxes into you.
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paige’s pov
god the feeling of sophs body on your made you wish were by yourselves. soph hands you her drink and you take a long sip of it. she watching your throat bob as you sallow. you like you lips at the face she makes. she turns her face so her mouth is right by your ear
“i’m tired” she wines.
“are you sleeping over?” you aren’t even sure why you asked that as sleepover had become a daily thing this you too.
“if you want me too” she whispers into your ear.
kk yelps with excitement as aubrey and her start singing some song. they both stand up and start humming a tiktok dance song and doing the dance. kk sets her phone on the tv stand. she angles her phone so and you and sophia’s tangled up limbs are suddenly on the live. kk grabs her phone and turns it away from you guys. sophia turns to you a panic look on her face.
“paige they all saw that”
“hey its ok, maybe they finally stop thinking me and azzi are together” i say annoyed. having the whole internet always think me and my best friend are together is so infuriating and now azzi wants us to keep our distance.
kk explaining to the live that they need to go and everyone just stare at us. i feel soph shift in my lap and i instinctively grab her waist to try to help her relax. but she abruptly hope out of my lap. she start collecting all her things.
“hey wait soph, please don’t go” you jump up out of your seat and grab her arm pulling her into your room and closing the door.
“paige stop I need to go”
“no you don’t, soph. i’m sorry for saying that i just hate how the internet is always in my fucking business”
“i know paige but i just can’t handle you flirting with me”
“i’m sorry, but please don’t go.”
“paige im so tired”
“sleep here, i don’t want you driving tired” her face lights up and suddenly all i want to do is feel the warmth of her body on mine. i go to my dresser and pull out a uconn sweatshirt and some of my shorts. i hand them to her and walk out.
“hey yall need to leave” i say to my teammates “oooo, did yall make up” kk asks with a big smile on her face.
“yes, and she’s tired so please leave” they all get up with goofy grins on there faces.
“don’t have to much fun” kk yells over her shoulder as she closes my dorm room. i walk back into my room and close the door. soph is laying on my bed under the covers in my white uconn sweatshirt. “paige please turn off the light”
“yes ma” soon as the word left my mouth i knew it was a mistake. sophia gets off my bed and grabbed her backpack.
“soph im sorry it just came out.”
“i can’t handle this right now”
i walk over to where she’s standing and look at her. her big brown eyes looked so sad and all i wanted to down was hug her until she felt better. i glanced at her lips and i know she saw me do it. she throws her backpack to the ground and simultaneously puts her hands around my neck. her hands are so cold and soft. god i need her now. i moved my head forward and i could feel her hot breath on my lips.
“please let me help you feel better” as soon as the words left my mouth her lips were on mine. her lips were so soft and gently. I started kissing down her neck making sure to leave mark. i could hear her breathy moans in my ear giving me the confidence to move my hands to her ass. i picked her up and her legs wrapped around my waist.
“paige” she moaned out
“what baby”
“please” i started taking off her shirt my lips still sucking on her neck. i let out a big grin when i saw no bra.
“good girl” i laughed out. i grabbed her tit in my hand gently massaging it.
“off” she motioned at my white tank top. i tore it off. i took a step back. she looked so beautiful, on my desk in my room with me.
she hoped off the desk pushing me on to my bed. i layed down as she straddled my waist.
“babe i need to see you” she said in between kisses. i took off my sports bra and she let out a small gasp, i pulled her lips back to mine my hands on her ass as she grinned into me her hands on my tits. i grabbed onto her waist and flipped her over. all the sudden tears started streaming down her beautiful cheeks.
“what’s wrong”
“paige’s it’s too much i can’t do this right now” i finally though i would be able to show her how much i want her.
“fine” i yell out. she starts crying more. i get off her and start collecting her clothes
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sophs pov.
i leave paige’s dorm and get into my car as soon as i sit down my tears start to fall down my face. one thing i always vowed to myself is to never drive when you are emotional so i sat in my car crying in silence. once my emotions subsided i started driving toward my dorm. luckily my roommate was out of town so i wouldn’t have to explain that im crying cause i was about to sleep with paige bueckers.
i went to sleep that night dreaming about how her body felt against mine and how i would probably never get to experience that again. i wake up to the sounds of my phone buzzing over and over. i groan and pick it up hoping it’s not paige and too my surprise it isn’t instead it me getting tagged over and over again in edits and gossip videos about me on paige last in the live. i throw my phone across my bed hoping i can go asleep and never wake up again. but i have classes and homework to do so i get up and start my day.
in my first class sociology i felt like everyone was staring at me. even though it was probably just my imagination how could news even travel that fast there’s no way everyone was on that live.
i had a break before my next class so i went to the cafe to get food. as i was grabbing my salad i see a tall blond in the corner of my eye. my mind immediately thought it was paige but there are so many blondes at uconn so you ignore it and continue getting your salad. you walked over to a empty table trying not to make eye contact with anyone in case they know about the live. you start to relax as you chew you food in peace. but then the song that’s playing in the cafe stops and you hear kks loud voice say.
“paige she’s here” i try to not glance around but I have to see if she’s actually here. i quickly turn my head just to check and we lock eyes. i turn back to my food suddenly not feeling hungry so i sprint to the trash and quickly leave the cafe. but i hear foot steps running behind me.
“soph stop i need to talk to you” paige yells out of breath.
“paige it’s fine i just need some space” you yell back not affording to look at her.
“sophia please” she pleading. but i keep walking away.
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forthebeidous · 1 day
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Filthy fast food
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‼️Warnings‼️: food play, noncon, voyeurism, semi public, f!reader x choso
If you want more, like and tell me what you want to see next. I’ll write for everything besides pisskink, age play, and I won’t write about minors (unless they’re aged up). I’ll do any character from any fandom!
My coworker and I waited patiently inside the food truck as boredom overtook. We refrain from socializing, just staring at our phones. I have no idea why I’m staring at mine. I have no internet or text. It’s just an excuse to avoid conversation. “You’ve been staring at the weather app for 20 minutes” The familiar voice interrupts my thoughts. “I was just waiting for my friend to text back.” I reply like he’s stupid. “Liar” he mumbles and it pisses me off, I huff, cursing him in my mind. Without notice I feel his warm breath graze my neck. He stares at me with a smirk, a smirk that makes me want to shove his face in the sizzling fry oil. “What’s the matter sweetheart? You’re red” he states, snarky. “It’s hot in here.” I attempt a nonchalant expression but as his smirk grows its obvious I failed. He stands an inch from me and my breath heavies, Choso chuckles. I go to push him away but before my palms can make contact with his abdomen he grabs them and spins me around. He has a firm grip on my wrists behind my back, like a juvenile. Before I can react I’m shoved against the serving area where customers order. My head peaking between the curtains. “Let go of me.” I try to say sternly but it projects as a breathy whine. He pushes me harder against it. I suck in a cry due to the stings in my lower rib cage. Choso strips my panties from beneath my skirt. When I make an attempt to look back I’m met with a tug to my hair. Guiding my face forward. But not before I witnessed him pocket my underwear. “Fucking perv.” I mumble. I hear spit before I feel a something probe my entrance. It then penetrates my fleshy walls as I gasp. “C-Cho what m’fuck.” I cry out. “Hush. Maybe this will teach you the importance of honesty.” He says as if he’s innocent. He thrust the item in me as tears paint my flushed cheeks. Shit. A customer approaches. “C-~ choso stop” I whisper yell before the customer is in earshot. The woman then stares at the menu, not making eye contact yet. Choso continues his abuse on my lower lips, as he speeds up. “Evening” The lady greets as her gaze meets mine. “I’d like to keep it simple with a new york style hot dog and some fries.” She orders. “yes m’am that…” I pause. “That will be 8 dollars and 7 cents. m’cash or card?” I finally finish. She looks at me funny but pulls out her phone and uses Apple Pay. “one moment.” I close the decorative curtains and look back at Choso. “stop that! I need to make her order” I whisper and he pulls out. He hands me a hot dog wiener. It takes me a moment to process where he pulled it from. I look at him shocked. “You are disgusting.” I say to him glaring. “you love it.” He flirts. I scrunch my nose. He places the hotdog wiener into a bun and puts some fries in a bag with it. “We can’t give this to her.” I respond in horror. But before I can stop him he snatched the bag and hands it to the lady outside. “Have a nice day.” He says to her with a smile. MONSTER.
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fluff-n-cookies · 1 day
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Hello :)
Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?
His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?
I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.
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TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.
We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.
Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.
herself
her father
While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.
Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.
(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)
As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.
if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.
and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.
so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.
if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.
this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.
so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.
this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.
---------
why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?
the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.
years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.
all because of you.
it's all because of you.
it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.
it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!
it cackles.
the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.
lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.
however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.
the night has to make way for the morning sun.
and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.
dread.
dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.
it's all your fault.
a click at the door,
the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.
mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.
you can mumble out all your pleas.
pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.
mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.
"it's pointless to keep trying."
"I wish I wasn't here."
"why can't I just be happy?"
"it's all my fault,
it's all my fault,
it's all my fault."
the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.
for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.
for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,
"No wonder no one loves you."
you lie again.
but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.
not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.
it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.
it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.
it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.
he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry
"No wonder no one loves you."
.
.
.
"But I love you."
for that whole night, for that whole night.
the peace was disturbed.
for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.
it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.
Aizawa walked away shortly after that.
leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.
ponder.
---------
Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that
he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.
he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.
you'll tell him you love him too.
and maybe.
just maybe.
the world will stop,
and everything will be okay.
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theaceofwords · 2 days
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Like. We do very much all understand that Russia is trying to interfere in all western elections, right? Russia, China, and Iran have ideological and territorial goals which they cannot realise in the existing global status quo.
Russia wants Ukraine (and really I think they want as much of Europe as they can get). They want to own it, stomp out everybody who fights back, and force them all to speak Russian. But they know also that the EU (and, I guess, NATO, the e bugs of the situation) will supply Ukraine with weapons as long as they keep fighting (which I also think is monstrous, frankly, but that's another thread).
China's government wants Taiwan. The US has been one of Taiwan's most vehement allies (which. you know. not always a good thing), but until recently it was taken as a simple fact that any move China made towards Taiwan would get stomped into the channel by the nearest US aircraft carrier.
Iran's leadership wants more regional control--they sponsor a variety of, let's say passionate nongovernmental activists, throughout the surrounding nations, and their current government is pretty strongly opposed to "modern" (Western) values like freedom of speech, human rights, etc. They're also pretty boxed-in by nations which are propped up by oil money, mostly US oil money.
These nations are coordinating. We know this for a fact; in the most obvious example, Russia is using Iranian drones and Chinese manufacturing to supply its ongoing violence against Ukraine. They all understand that their foreign policy objectives are perfectly compatible, and in fact more than compatible, are mutually reinforcing--because the cases of Ukraine and Taiwan are analogous, these industrial/agricultural centers which are not ostensibly part of regional alliances but which have been trying to join the modern world for decades.
But here's the thing. Now we have these hard-right political movements brewing throughout Europe and the Americas. Not by accident--hard-right groups are coordinating and sharing notes in south, central, and north America, as well as in the EU. And these hard-right political parties are not at all interested in the status quo of Western force projection--they take an isolationist, authoritarian view of foreign policy where the great powers do what they like and the small countries deal with it and are absorbed.
Russia, China, Iran, and the smaller, shittier nations that work with them (the governments of which are shut out of the modern world largely for being such shitbag authoritarian despots that even the US can't swallow working with them)--these nations all recognize that their best chance to achieve their goals is to help the hard right win in Europe. In America. Everywhere. Anywhere they can get someone into party who, like Trump, will refuse to honor treaties with Ukraine and Taiwan--who will go on record saying that he doesn't give a shit about Europe, that the US should pull out of NATO.
This is the state of the world. Do you understand that this is the state of the world? This is why Russia/China are pushing such massive disinformation on the internet, why there is so much pro-PRC and pro-Russian brigading on reddit and Twitter and Tumblr. It's not because they're nebulously evil Red Threats that we think are malevolent for no reason. They have extremely specific policy goals which they cannot achieve without a shift in the current world order. This means they have a strong interest in changing the world order as quickly and radically as possible.
These relationships are not the matter of speculation. These are not my personal conspiracy theories, they are facts. The A to B in this situation is extraordinarily clear.
The internet is not a neutral ground. There are hostile actors here who have decided that the internet is one of the best means by which to realise goals which are antithetical to free, open, and civilized society. You cannot take information here at face value. You must do your own research, confirm facts across multiple sources with different interests, draw and hold your own convictions and change your opinions when the evidence dictates it.
And above all else, do not be taken in by the idea that the world is awful and nothing can be done to save it. That nihilism is being pushed upon you. If you believe the world can do nothing, there is no point in defending Ukraine. If you believe the world is beyond saving, there's no reason to recognize Taiwan. If you believe both sides are awful, there is no point to pressing for Palestinian statehood.
Apathy does not serve a brighter tomorrow--because the world never remains good. It is made good every day by the effort of billions. The world we live in is the result of centuries of people giving their lives to push the needle further to peace. To international cooperation and understanding.
Get your head in the game. It's the only game going around here. You're playing whether you like it or not, so you might as well know who you're playing against.
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and-stir-the-stars · 11 months
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@pey-up I am admittedly more Evan-coded than I am Gregory-coded
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