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#was deeply distressing to me for this reason
veliseraptor · 1 year
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my first existential crisis was probably when I was maybe nine or ten and i came to the hysterical realization that i had no way of knowing that what i saw in the world around me was anything like what my friend saw. not in a metaphorical sense but a literal one. like, how do I know that my perception of what a given, individual jellyfish looks like is the same as somebody else's? i don't! i can't! language is the best means i have of trying to figure it out and language is fallible and subjective too
picture me, vibrating at summer camp, contemplating how the truth of a shared reality is unknowable and maybe there's no such thing as reality at all
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larrythefloridaman · 1 year
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crumble and the Naut
bonus:
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pilmyeol · 1 year
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okay wait does anyone else have like. an intrusive thought that you had like 10-15 years ago thats really funny now actually. please tell me i am not the only one
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lightnersdream · 1 year
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wish i could be reasonable about anything
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h0neyfreak · 6 months
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***
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 8 months
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[screanventing about irl shit which i'm putting here instead of main because it is Relevant to what this blog might look like in future so 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃, covid bullshit cw]
well i am definitely about to get fucking covid again because of my stupid piece of shit asshole plague rat of a stepdad so. heads up i guess that i'm rolling the dice as to whether i'm going to get the variety of long covid this time that will make the kind of meta i've been planning for the near future on this blog impossible, so!!!!!! wish me luck i guess!!!!!!!
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eileennatural · 1 year
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i can't have normal appropriate emotional reactions to things sorry it's just not in my nature
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fish-and-forbear · 2 years
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Really just hope things will be okay. I know they will be, I know I have always done all I could with the information and means I had but.
Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose.
Just need to learn to forgive myself and move on, with many many things
- Fisher
#just thinking about a lot of things#I think we all just need a nap#drank water ate half a sandwich got blankets and a dog and the queue is full of funny and nice and thoughtful things#finally made a doctors appointment for my heart rate#didnt entirely destroy beautiful friendships so thats REALLY good#just thinking about. other relationships too (all kinds) and how talking so much and believing when people say its ok but its not#really end up hurting everyone. even though i try so hard to not do that#i need to learn to forgive myself#for a lot of things#because i did all i could to fix so many things and sometimes the most healthy and gentle thing to do is. just to stop trying#damn. thats really depressing. :c#i need a nap. everyone feels quiet and rattled. we just need to sleep and reset I think#i just. hate that I cause people distress by being myself. everyone wants me to be myself but time and time again no one actually stays#when they see what I am.#that doesn't feel entirely true. its just mean neurotypicals who do that. or. people who simply need more space#and thats never their fault. EVER. i just wish people knew I mean it when I tell them I want to support their boundaries and won't be upset#if something is wrong I just want to know so we can fix it... or find a better solution#just. need to learn to stifle my emotions a bit more. I've always been emotional and loved so strongly and felt so deeply.#this is all a mix of... sound reasoning and... just the tiredness talking.#i should just sleep and see how the world fares tomorrow#i just hope the people i care about who need space... don't entirely regret me meeting them.#my dear friend here at home seemed upset at us tonight for some reason and wont respond to my message#i hope she isnt upset for real. i am terrified that... some of the behaviors Grist has will remind her of a Bad Time#Grist means so well. but he can't meet her yet. That breaks my heart.
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calliesmemes · 7 months
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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET
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CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”
“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”
“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”
“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”
“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”
“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”
“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”
“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”
“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”
“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”
“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”
“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”
“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”
“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”
“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”
“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”
“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”
“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”
“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”
“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”
“   I really do hate thinking. ”
“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”
“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”
“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”
“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”
“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”
“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”
“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”
“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”
“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”
“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”
“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”
“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”
“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”
“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”
“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”
“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”
“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”
“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”
“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”
“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”
“   You look so biteable today. ”
“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”
“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”
“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”
“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”
“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”
“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”
“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”
“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”
“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”
“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”
“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”
“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”
“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”
“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”
“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”
“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”
“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”
“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”
“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”
“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”
“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”
“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”
“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”
“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”
“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”
“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”
“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”
“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”
“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”
“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”
“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”
“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”
“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”
“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”
“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”
“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”
“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”
“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”
“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”
“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”
“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”
“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”
“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”
“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”
“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”
“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”
“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”
“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”
“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”
“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”
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TENDER CARE. 18+
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pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary. you’ve been feeling insecure lately and your boyfriend, bucky knows just the way to make you feel pretty
word count. 2847
warnings. 18+ only!! hurt/comfort, reader feeling insecure, lots of hand kissing bc that shit makes me weak, kissing in general, praise, body worshiping, oral (f receiving) little bit of titty stuff, unprotected pinv sex, bucky being the best bf. minors dni
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It was late, the evening quiet - the winter moon, a bright slither of silver amongst the dark blue sky. 
As you lay in your bed, admiring her -the moon’s- beauty through the condensation of your window, your mind begins to drift, irrationality throwing hurdles at you. Your brain darting back and forth to those same thoughts you've been having more of lately - ones where doubt and insecurity flood any sense of logicality. 
You knew you had no reason to feel this way. Your boyfriend always went to grave lengths to ensure you felt loved and appreciated, showing you nothing but tender care. Though, there was just something in your brain, that little green gremlin instilling distrust within you - no fault to him.
You felt isolated with your sense of humility, often feeling as though you didn't have someone to confide in, someone to talk to. It wasn't an easy topic to bring up, and although you felt comfortable enough with Bucky to share your mind freely, this was something that you just could not stomach. 
Not only were you thinking about yourself, you were thinking of Bucky. The thought of admitting to him you felt insecure in your relationship felt like the highest form of betrayal. To confess to the man who's been torn apart and stitched together more times than one can count - that you felt unlovable, was something you couldn't bear. 
The amount of hurt you would cause him simply by sharing was enough to deter you. So, for that reason alone, you kept it hidden. Letting yourself wallow in the crappy feeling unaided. 
Your phone vibrates on your nightstand beside you, the screen obnoxiously bright - the white almost blinding you within your dim bedroom. Teary-eyed, you peek over at the caller ID, your boyfriend's name displayed beside his picture. 
You wanted to talk to him - to hear his voice, but you knew your wavering tone would give away your dismal state. So, you let his call go to voicemail, like all his others from this evening. 
Feeling guilt-ridden for declining his calls, you pick up your phone, deciding to send him a text instead. But when you unlock your phone, you see a pile of missed messages from Bucky, each text growing more and more worried at your sudden disappearance - his last one reading, 'I'll be over in 10' which was nearly ten minutes ago. 
You exhale in frustration, cursing yourself as you wipe your eyes - carefully blotting the sensitive skin with one hand, the other typing a response. You decided on a small, white lie, replying, 'sorry, I was sleeping.'
The second your thumb presses send, you hear a frantic string of taps on your door - the repeated sound of knuckles knocking. You take a moment to situate yourself before making your way to your front entrance, socked feet paddling over to answer. 
You peek through the peephole, your boyfriend on the other side - visibly distressed as he rakes through the front strands of his hair. You reach for the handle, unlocking the door with an expression you were sure to be disgrace. "I'm so sorry. I was in—" you start.
"Are you okay? You didn't answer. I got worried— I thought something happened," Bucky cuts you off, walking past you and stepping into your apartment.
You close the door behind him, turning to meet his frazzled features. "I know, I know. I'm really sorry. My phone was on silent, and I was in bed. I didn't see anything til just now," you confess, sharing parts of the truth.
He deeply exhales, gaze softening as he looks over you. He pauses, seeming like he's analysing you, eyes honing in on your evading ones. "What's wrong?" 
You knew your gag would be up sooner or later, but you didn't expect it to be this soon. Sometimes, it was like your boyfriend knew things about you before you even did yourself - as though you failed to remember who you were talking to.
"Nothing," you smile, kissing his cheek as you step past him. "Just tired— didn't sleep properly."
"Yeah?" he hums, not quite believing your half-truths. He kicks off his boots and follows you into your room, soft footsteps behind you like a shadow. "How was your day?" he asks, talking like he's scoping you out.
You sit on the foot of your bed, shrugging at him dismissingly. "Same old. How was yours?"
He steps towards you, eyes darting around your room before focusing on you - everything becoming more apparent. "Fine. Good," he nods, softly groaning as he takes a crouch in front of you, kneeling on the floor between your legs so he's level with you. "What's wrong? What's going on?" he asks, eyes following you with the movement of his head, brows narrowing.
"Nothing," you reply, speaking faintly. Responding minimally in case your voice were to break.
"No?" he questions, placing a delicate hand over your knee - the palm emitting warmth onto your skin through the fabric of your pyjamas.
You shake your head, bottom lip beginning to waver under his attention. 
"Then what's on your mind?" he asks gently, his tone warm and concerned.
"I told you," you avoid his eyes, looking down at your hands on your lap. "Didn't sleep well."
He sighs at your tenacity to push him away, head cocking to the side. He adjusts the stance on his knees, and your hands scramble for him - reaching out and holding onto him as if you were to stop him from leaving. Though only he wasn't leaving - he was just getting more comfortable. 
"I wasn't leaving," he murmurs, slipping his hands into yours, thumb brushing over the back of your hand assuringly. "Did you think I was going to leave you?" he asks, lips lining into a faint frown.
You notice his brows tug upwards in the middle, the tell-tell sign he was beginning to think too hard. "No, I was just— I... don't know."
"Well, I'm not," he responds shortly, speaking like he was being stern with you - tough love. "Now, what's going on with you?" he asks, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring squeeze, the silent act encouraging you. 
You inhale steadily, letting the air fill your lungs. "I haven't been feeling good."
He keeps his eyes on yours, following you. "Okay, why?" he questions shortly, wanting to get to the root of the problem as quickly as possible.
"I've been sad."
"Why?
You shrug. "I just have."
"I need more than that. Why have you been sad?"
"I don't know."
"Why?" he repeats, brows straightening.  
"Because I feel... ugly."
He hesitates, his shoulders slumping at your confession, visibly digesting your words. "Ugly?" he recites, the remark leaving a foul taste on his tongue. "Honey," he lingers, softly shaking his head.
Bucky stills, his forehead creasing with what you perceive to be pity. His mouth opens as though he's going to say something, only for it to snap back shut. He faintly sighs, bringing your hand to his lips. "You know that's not true, right?" he rhetorically asks, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.
You don't say anything, the only reply being a short exhale and an awkward smile.
"Because I think you..." he pauses, kissing another patch into your hand. "Are the prettiest," a slow smile lining his lips - an expression that's now mirroring yours.
It was so simple. Everything Bucky did to reassure you - he did with ease. Just the tiny, loving act instantly melting the tension in your mind. His care for you pushing away any sense of self-doubt.
He peppers another kiss into your hand. And another - littering a short string of them over your wrist. "Don't listen to your brain, okay? She's not always right," he murmurs, expression softening like it was reassuring his words.
"I know," you nod, weakly smiling at him. "Just—"
"Hard. I know," Bucky finishes your sentence, nodding at you understandingly. 
He leans forward and places a soft kiss on the centre of your lips - his own brushing over yours sweetly, the action grounding and comforting. He pulls away first, eyes half-lidded as they glance over you, focusing on the almost pleading look on your face.
Your free hand reaches up to his face, palm enclosing his jaw as you bring him back in for a kiss - lips working over his more urgently than the time before. 
"Thank you," you mumble against his mouth, merely pulling away to show your appreciation. "You're so kind to me."
His grip loosens on your hand, now sliding both up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - tongue slipping into your mouth willingly. His lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your throat. 
"Always," he murmurs, the short word muffling into your skin. Whispering, "I want to show you just how pretty you are."
A soft whine-like hum vibrates in your throat, the noise accepting his words eagerly. Your hand trails into the short strands of hair at the back of his head, fingers grazing his scalp as you hold him to the crook of your neck. Neck tilting to the side, allowing him more access to you as you reach for his jacket, pushing the fabric off his broad shoulders. 
He presses a final kiss into a patch of your skin and pulls away, looking at your ever-softening features - eyes and brows growing pliant under his attention. His hands slowly roam down to the hem of your t-shirt, fingers hooking under the fabric as they lift, pulling it off your head in a steady, swift motion.
You sit in front of him, chest bare and on display in front of him, letting him take you in - not shying away like you did earlier.
Bucky remains quiet, his eyes fixed on the lewd sight before him, silently storing the image for safekeeping. He brings his hands up towards your tits, cupping under each - holding them in his palms. "So beautiful," he hums, leaning in to place a kiss on the swell below your nipple, giving his attention to each breast.
He rolls them in his strong hands, delicately playing and toying with them, thumbs skimming over your sensitive, hardening nipples, pressing kisses into the skin above. He looks up at you from between your tits, eyes full of love, full of warmth - looking up into your blissed ones with nothing adoration. 
He places a hand over your middle - fingers spread wide as he nudges you backwards, silently and carefully laying you down. Your bare back against the covers with him kneeling on the floor between your spread thighs. 
Barely leaning over you, he reaches up to kiss a trail over your abdomen, lips skimming along your jittering stomach as his fingers slip into the waistband of your underwear and pyjama bottoms. He pulls them down - light tugs as he drags them off your hips and down your thighs, grazing kisses over your now-exposed skin as he undresses your lower half. 
Pulling the fabric off your ankles, he sets it aside, replacing the material that just covered you with kisses - lips grazing up the length of your legs, chaste pecks over your skin like he was worshipping you. The kisses trail higher and higher, reaching up to the crease between your thigh and cunt where he continues the worship, tongue faintly swiping over the skin.
Your hands worm into the roots of his dark hair, fingers locking on the shorts as you hold him to where you want him, guiding him to the needy little spot between your thighs. Chest rising and falling, inner thighs twitching as the anticipation builds in your stomach.
He situates himself in front of your pussy, lips mere inches away as he softly breathes over it - teasing you, his eyes locked on your trembling stomach above. He places a peck on the bottom of your slit. And another. Lining a stripe of kisses up your cunt til he reaches your clit where he skates past the nub, tongue skimming over it.
Hands working over your thighs and to your hips, he adjusts you, placing your legs over his shoulders - letting them drape freely over his blades as he delves in deeper between your thighs, caressing your plushy folds with his lips and tongue. 
You murmur the first half of his name only to be cut off by a whine, the desperate noise catching in your throat when he nips at your clit, his lips wrapping around the mound - tongue skillfully flickering across. 
The noises he muffles are lewd and obscene - gruff, soft groans as he adulates your pussy, pushing his mouth in closer. Your fingers tug tighter on his roots at the consuming feeling, back lifting from the bed in an arch, mindlessly grinding your cunt into his face. 
Within minutes, you become a twitching, moaning pile of mush, coating his chin with your slick as you cum - thighs clamping around Bucky's head between.
He places a final kiss on your pubic bone before pulling away, standing up with a chubbed-up cock in his pants, the area tenting after tasting you. You hold his gaze, looking up at him with blissed eyes and a stir in your stomach - the sight of him making your cunt twitch. 
He wipes the wet from his chin on the back of his hand, briskly drying his stubble before undressing his lower half - tugging down on his combat pants and boxers, letting the material pool around his ankles as his cock springs free. Full length hard and ready, tip leaking precum. 
You scooch up your bed, resting flat with your head on the pillow, eagerly awaiting him. Your thighs instinctively spread as he crawls up the bed and between your legs, slotting his lower half between you - anchoring his weight on his hands either side of your head.
He leans in to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue, the residual creamy slick transferring onto your own. Cock absentmindedly rubbing up against your pussy, the faint friction making you whimper into his mouth.
Your hands hook into the hem of his t-shirt, fingers gripping the bottom of the fabric as you guide it up his back, pulling it over his head as you break the kiss - his chest now bare and up against yours. 
Balancing on his left metal hand, he dips the other between you, reaching for his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. He gives himself a few short strokes, guiding his head towards you - pushing his tip through the slick of your folds, coating his cock in your wetness before sinking into you.
You take him at your own pace, walls fluttering and loosening around his shaft as he eases more of himself into you - your pussy swallowing little bits of him at a time. Your hand paws at his wrist placed on your hip, fingers enveloping around the thickness, silently pleading and begging him to get closer.
He looks down at the lewd sight of you spread out in front of him: your brows knitted, eyes soft, lips bitten - natural, unadulterated beauty all desperate and malleable for him. He notices the bliss cloud in your eyes and gives your glistening, stuffed pussy a final once over before hovering back over you, chest lingering above yours. 
His lips skim over your jaw, trailing even more kisses down the side of your throat, giving you easing, reassuring pecks as he slips more of his cock into you - distracting you from the dull ache. 
"You are so beautiful," he whispers into your skin, sealing the compliment with a kiss. "You really are," he adds, pressing kisses into your shoulder. "I don't know how you don't see it."
You bend at the knee, holding it at his side - the new angle opening your hips wider, allowing that last bit of his cock to slide in, head hitting at the hilt. You keep him snug to you, arms lazily wrapped around his neck, your other leg entangling with his as your lips shadow each other. 
The moonlit room fills with soft, wet clicking - the sound of your pussy and sticky skin hitting cuts through the bliss-filled noises that slip past both of your lips, lewd noises surrounding you in the dark.
Bucky pulls his forehead from the crook of your neck to look down at you, eyes hinting at something - like his mind was temporarily elsewhere.
"Earlier," he starts, his voice hoarse as his hips wind into you, cock rubbing your walls so nicely. "When you said that thing," he adds, following your eyes when they bashfully divert away. "You tell me when you feel like that... I'd be happy to remind you just how pretty you are."
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a/n. I had an idea for myself, what?? and my first full fic in almost a year??
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jaylaxies · 11 months
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KINKTOBER DAY 21 — BREEDING KINK
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PAIRING: sub!jungwon x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, jealous won, crying, usage of nicknames, breeding.
WC: 1.3k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels! here i have sub wonie as requested by my beloved @hwhjsthetic! i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
✎ kinktober masterlist
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“Aw, is my babyboy jealous?” 
Jungwon was usually calm and collected, always ready to help others, no matter the situation. However, he was just as disheveled and messy behind the doors, locked up in a room with you, the sight only you could see, making the poor boy beg on his knees, big tear drops lined up on his thick lashes. 
Oh so beautiful. 
He doesn’t know what pushed him to this extent, maybe it was how carefree you looked while talking to this guy he had never met or seen before, your fingers resting on his shoulders as you tried to stand straight while laughing on a possible joke he cracked. 
Jungwon didn’t know what was so special about this man, nor could he cope up with the bubbling feeling in his chest. Only, this time it wasn’t because of how beautiful you looked, it was because you looked beautiful, while laughing with another man. 
Jealousy was a nasty disease, and Jungwon couldn’t deny he was jealous. He didn’t take it well, bottom lip jutted out as he tried not to cry at the simple sight of you talking to someone else. 
That would be pathetic, right? 
Was it bad to want you to the point he couldn’t bear the thought of you interacting with others? He didn’t know. All he wanted was for you to pay your undivided attention to him, hold him close to your body while stroking his needy, leaking cock, cooing gently and praising him for being your good boy. Your only boy. 
He couldn’t handle it anymore, he couldn’t handle anything when it came to you, which is why he found himself walking across the room, holding on to your arm gently with the saddest expression he could muster, which was enough to garner your attention as he pulled you with him. You quickly excused the other guy, wondering what was wrong with your pretty boy. 
“I wanna go home,” he says, eyes watering. 
You cup his face, “what’s wrong, pup?” You ask gently, dragging him to an empty room to get away from the music blasting at the party. 
“I—you—” he struggled to tell you, red adorning his face at the thought of him telling you how jealous he was, to the point he wanted to breed you, have you all to himself. 
“Say it, pretty baby,” you urged, hand slipping under his shirt to run your cold fingertips on his nipples, a soft whimper leaving his lips. 
“I—I was jealous,” he cried out, hiding his face in your neck as you touched him more. 
The confession was something you hadn’t expected, yet it was so adorable, his distress over nothing, it was adorable. 
“Aw, baby,” you caress his nape, “you don’t like when I talk to pretty boys?” 
You said it on purpose and it worked wonders as you heard another broken sob from him as he shook his head with all his power, his soft hair tickling your neck, “no! No, please—I’m your pretty boy, no one else, please,” he sobbed. You pulled back with a chuckle, observing how his lip was trembling, absolutely hating the situation. 
He belonged to you, shouldn’t it also mean that you should be his girl and his only? 
“Please,” he mumbled out brokenhearted, and you only pulled him closer, kissing him deeply. You could taste his tears with how much he had cried. 
The sight was beautiful, however your heart couldn’t see your pretty boy crying, overthinking that he might lose you. Your lips fit into his perfectly, slotting together as he gasped, mind numbing and heart racing for whole another reason—your touch. 
“You’re my pretty boy, hm?” You whisper softly, as he watches you, eyes bigger and sparkly now that it was filled with a few unshed tears. 
“Only me?” He asked, gulping down as he looked at you, expectantly. 
“Only you,” you confirmed, “show me how beautiful and needy you are for me, baby,” you say, settling down on the stranger’s bed. 
He was quick to comply, fumbling with his belt as he tried to get rid of his clothes, and you sat, admiring his broad shoulders once they came into view, wondering how he’s so big yet so small and submissive to your disposal at all times. 
His shyness was adorable, especially when he stood naked in front of you and you were fully clothed, “wanna show you how much I want you,” he mumbled, embarrassed at how amused you seemed at his newfound determination to act bold, which didn’t seem to work with how gentle his touch was as he parted your legs. 
He was hard, his cock twitching at the sight of your panties, and he forgot to breathe for a solid minute, “go ahead, pup. You look so beautiful on your knees,” you caressed his cheek before tugging on his roots as he took off your panties and buried himself between your legs. 
His experimental kitten licks at your clit felt like heaven, even more so when he was the one who kept moaning as if he was being pleasured. Oh, he loved every second of it, “that’s it, baby—fuck, you’re doing so well, Wonie,” you praised and he continued his ministrations. 
He was and always had been your pillow princess, seeing him become a service top was endearing. Jealousy does that to you, but Won found himself enjoying it more than anticipated, maybe it was driven by jealousy, which gave him the courage to speak his heart out. 
“Wanna fuck you, please? I’ll be a good boy, will make you feel good, I promise!” He leaned back, lips coated with your juices as you pulled him up for another kiss. 
He was so enthusiastic that you allowed him in one go. He had been a good boy after all, “of course, baby,” you chuckled, and you swore you saw his eyes lightening up with excitement, no coherent sentences coming to your mind as he got on top of you, chest heaving up and down as he lined up his cock, prodding at your entrance. 
You grabbed his dick, helping him push his thickness inside you. The feeling was overwhelming for the poor boy, the sweetest whimpers falling off his lips as he thrusts into you weakly, adjusting to the feeling of your walls clenching around him. He couldn’t help but tear up again, and you only kissed his tears away. 
“Mine, mine, mine,” he kept on mumbling, drunk in the essence of you, your lips on his as you continued to tell him how you’ll only ever be his, yet you knew he had something else on his mind with how desperately he was thrusting into you. 
“Am I making you feel good? Please tell me I’m making you feel good,” he whimpered, breathing ragged and you could feel that he was close, your own orgasm approaching as you moaned, making the boy even more shy and proud. 
He was making you feel good. 
“S—so close,” he let out, “too sensitive, want to mark you,” he breathed out, words coming out broken as you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, knowing exactly what he was aiming for and you’d let him go his way today, simply because he looks so cute begging to fill you up, to mark your neck, nibbling on it gently. 
With a few more thrust, he found himself sobbing on your neck as you traced your fingers on his back, helping him and yourself ride out your high, feeling the warmth of your liquid mixing with his inside your cunt as he stuffed it inside you the best he could. 
“You’re mine, right?” he asked for the last time, hair disheveled, lips swollen and skin blotchy red with how much he had cried. 
And you kissed him, knowing you’d never want to miss this sight. 
“All yours, babyboy.”
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ohhgingersnaps · 1 year
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I'm seeing some frustration over fandom creatives expressing anger or distress over people feeding their work into ChatGPT. I'm not responding to OP directly because I don't want to derail their post (their intent was to provide perspective on how these models actually work, and reduce undue panic, which is all coming from a good place!), but reassurances that the addition of our work will have a negligible impact on the model (which is true at this point) does kind of miss the point? Speaking for myself, my distress is less about the practical ramifications of feeding my fic into ChatGPT, and more about the principle of someone taking my work and deliberately adding it to the dataset.
Like, I fully realize that my work is a drop in the bucket of ChatGPT's several-billion-token training set! It will not make a demonstrable practical difference in the output of the model! That doesn't change the fact that I do not want my work to be part of the set of data that the ChatGPT devs use for training.
According to their FAQ, ChatGPT can and will use user input to train itself. The terms and conditions explicitly state that they save your chats to help train and improve their models. (You can opt-out, but sharing is the default.) So if you're feeding a fic into ChatGPT, unless you've explicitly opted out, you are handing it to the ChatGPT team and giving them permission to use it for training, whether or not that was your intent.
Now, will one fic make a demonstrable difference in the output of the model? No! But as the person who spent a year and a handful of months laboring over my fic, it makes a difference to me whether my fic, specifically, is being used in the dataset. If authors are allowed to have a problem with the ChatGPT devs for scraping millions of fics without permission, they're also allowed to have a problem with folks handing their individual fics over via the chat interface.
I do want to add that if you've done this to a fic, please don't take this as me being upset with you personally! Folks are still learning new information and puzzling out what "good" vs. "bad" use is, from an ethical standpoint. (Heck, my own perspective on this is deeply based on my own subjective feelings!) And we certainly shouldn't act like one person feeding a fic into ChatGPT has the same practical negative impact, on a broad societal scale, as a team using a web crawler to scrape five billion pieces of artwork for Stable Diffusion.
The point is that fundamentally, an ethical dataset should be obtained with the consent of those providing the data. Just because it's normalized for our data to be scraped without consent doesn't make it ethical, and this is why ChatGPT gives users the option to not share data— there is actually a standardized way (robots.txt) for website servers to set policies for how bots/crawlers can interact with them, for exactly this reason— and I think fandom artists and authors are well within their rights to express a desire for opting out to be the socially-respected default within the fandom community.
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poisonlove · 7 months
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Study Session | c.s
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pairing: Cairo Sweet X fem reader
Summary: Y/n is terrible in literature and needs a hand
Words: 11.58 k
"Miss Y/S, could you come here for a moment, please?" Mr. Miller asks kindly.
I blink in surprise and walk towards the lectern, my feet almost stumbling on the wooden floorboards. I blush with embarrassment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cairo looking towards us with seriousness, organizing her belongings.
I swallow nervously and bite my lower lip, my eyes first glancing at Cairo and then at Professor Miller.
Now is not the time to think about your one-sided crush, y/n I mentally scold myself.
I force a smile and look at the professor with genuine curiosity. "Do you need something, sir?" I say, smiling happily, trying to hide my nervousness.
"I'm not sure how to put this..." Professor Miller sighs and takes off his glasses, looking up to meet our eyes. My smile falters seeing the concern and distress behind his eyes. Professor Miller sighs and takes the assignment I had done last week in his hands.
"It's... It's a mediocre work," he says hesitantly, almost embarrassed.
"To be honest... If you don't do something that impresses me, Miss, you'll fail my class," he says with a tone of voice almost guilty.
My palms sweat, and I try to remain calm. I knew I was really bad at literature, but I didn't expect to fail the year altogether. But what can I say? No matter how hard I try, I can't adequately transcribe what I think onto paper.
"I'm sorry," I whisper reluctantly, deeply ashamed of myself.
Professor Miller gives me a gentle smile, tilting his head slightly as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"You have great potential," he states with conviction, trying to instill confidence in me. "But you simply have a few more difficulties," he concludes with a compassionate tone, seeking my gaze empathetically.
I stare into his eyes, noticing the intention of conveying moral support.
"Miss Sweet," Professor Miller calls Cairo's attention, making her focus on him.
"Yes, Professor Miller?" she responds with a radiant smile, her eyes shining for... some strange reason.
"Could you help Y/N?" the professor asks, looking at me sideways.
His request makes me feel slightly offended for not having a say, but at the same time, it puts me in a state of anxiety because I would have to work with the girl I've always liked.
Cairo's eyes focus on my figure with curiosity, making me feel nervous and embarrassed by her enchanting beauty. A small smile spreads across her lips before she looks at the literature professor.
Brown eyes looking at Mr. Miller.
"Alright," Cairo responds with a shy smile, which also makes the professor smile.
I raise an eyebrow in confusion, observing this strange scene with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
Cairo's smile is kind but enigmatic, as if hiding something behind that seemingly calm façade. I wonder what it could be, but I decide not to delve too deeply into it at that moment.
Professor Miller seems pleased with her acceptance and nods with a pleased expression. "Great! I'm sure you'll make an exceptional team," he comments enthusiastically, encouraging us to work together towards our common goal.
"Cairo," says the professor, maintaining a dazzling smile, "if you succeed in the task, you'll earn an extra credit," he announces proudly, turning his gaze towards his student with a mixture of hope and trust.
Cairo smiles weakly, visibly embarrassed by the attention she's received.
"Well then," I intervene timidly, trying to dissipate the strange tension that has arisen, "shall we?" I add, looking at the girl I've always had a secret crush on with flushed cheeks.
Despite my shyness and the nervousness that overwhelms me, I strive to maintain a calm and decisive tone, hoping to convey confidence both to myself and to Cairo as we prepare to face this new challenge together.
(...)
"So... What do you think?" I say nervously, my hands fidgeting with the threads of my jeans.
I roll a thread around my finger and pull it, tossing it into the grass.
Cairo's eyes fixate on my paper attentively, her pupils moving along my essay with seriousness. The brunette lowers the sheet and looks at me carefully.
"Well?" I say, feeling my stomach tied up with nerves. "Hmm..." She starts hesitantly, tilting her head and leaning against the tree behind her.
The day was perfect, and we had mutually agreed to spend it outdoors doing literature. The rays filtering through the branches highlight Cairo's face, making her eyes appear light brown
She was... Beautiful.
"Is it okay?" She says timidly.
Cairo hands me back the paper, and I sigh in frustration. I could sense that something was missing.
"Come on... Tell me the truth," I say, looking at Cairo curiously. The brunette bites her lower lip and adjusts her posture.
"So... It's not bad, but..." she starts and bites her lower lip, thoughtful. "It lacks emotion... I don't see the passion... I don't perceive anything," she confesses, and I pout.
Darn it... I wanted the truth, but it was entirely heavy
"I knew I shouldn't have spoken," she quickly says, quickly moving her hand, noticing my frown on her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles broadly, and my eyes soften seeing how sweet and cute she was with that expression on her face.
The dimple was adorable, and her eyes sparkled when she talked about something related to writing.
"No... I asked you to be honest, and you were," I say quickly, smiling.
Her eyes look at me with curiosity, and I try to maintain eye contact as much as possible. "Okay..." Cairo murmurs before giving in to this staring contest, taking her notebook.
"I... " I start hesitantly, "have an old piece that I'd like you to read," I say timidly.
I was aware of the risk that she would realize it was about her, but despite that, I thought it was my best work. After all, I wrote it with all the love I feel for her.
"Oh... I'd be happy to," she says sincerely, her pearly whites showing her beautiful smile. Cairo's eyes light up at the mention of reading something, and she quickly reaches her hand towards me.
Shyly, I grab my backpack and search for my work, immediately noticing that it was sandwiched between two notebooks. My cheeks were red from embarrassment for having something so special to me crumpled and carelessly thrown in my backpack.
Cairo takes it without making any comment on its sorry state and begins to read it.
"In the twilight of our intertwined destinies..." The brunette had a focused expression, her voice soft and enveloping.
I wait with trepidation, observing every nuance of her expressions
"she emerges like an elusive shadow, a siren of my lost dreams, with chestnut locks like the earth." Cairo sighs "Her eyes, deep as the abyss of the soul, reflect falling stars and unfathomable secrets, like dark water on a moonless night, where the lost traveler wanders." Cairo suddenly stops, lips still suspended on the sentence.
Her gaze drifts amidst the words as a wave of emotion envelops her voice.
I remain silent, captivated by her interpretation.
The brunette continues, her voice now softer, almost whispered. "Her smile, a fleeting glimpse of light, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, yet also an echo of sadness in the relentless passage of time, a memory of what could have been."
Cairo voice resonates with the melody of the words, conveying every nuance of emotion contained within the text.
I was completely captivated by her facial expressions.
"Yet, amid the folds of uncertain destiny, remains a lost innocence and an unspoken love, an incomplete harmony, an unexpressed desire, like a melody interrupted in the night wind."
"In her breath dance promises of another life, where perhaps our hearts will meet, in the stillness of a world without end, where time is not the master of our destinies."
Cairo tightens the grip on the paper.
"But for now we part ways, like the waves leaving the shore, destined to wander alone in the depths of time. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my being, her essence remains engraved like an ancient melody."
As she reads those words, Cairo's tone of voice becomes soft and melancholic, conveying a sense of nostalgia and sadness. Her words are filled with emotion, with a slight tremor in her voice reflecting the depth of her feelings. Cairo seems to be carried away by the intensity of the text, and her reading is infused with an aura of melancholy and reflection.
"And so I venture into the night, with her memory as my guide, suspended between the pain of loss and the hope of return. In the silence of my soul, I continue to dream, hoping that one day our destinies will intertwine again."
After finishing the reading, Cairo remains silent for a moment, her gaze lost in deeper thoughts. I can sense her mind in turmoil, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze towards me, a spark of interest shining in her coffee-colored eyes.
"Who is the muse behind this extraordinary piece?" she asks, her voice warm and full of curiosity, while her expression reflects a sincere desire to understand the hidden meaning behind the words.
I knew perfectly well that I couldn't say it was her, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. "No one in particular," I add calmly, even though my heart was beating rapidly inside me.
"Yet it seems so specific," Cairo observes, glancing at the paper.
Her words make me uncomfortable, but I try to maintain composure. "It's just a product of my imagination," I say with a forced smile, hoping to divert attention away from myself.
"The only certainty is that she's a brown-haired girl with brown eyes," Cairo asserts with a mischievous smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. "The classic always attracts, it seems," she adds, chuckling softly.
Her observation makes me feel like butterflies are doing acrobatics in my stomach.
"Don't be stubborn now," I blurt out in embarrassment, trying to deflect attention from the imminent truth that Cairo is about to uncover with her acute intelligence.
Cairo bursts into laughter, a sound so genuine and contagious that it makes me feel special. Her laughter fills the air around us, wiping away any traces of embarrassment and fear, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling light and free.
Cairo stops laughing and smiles, a look of sincerity painted on her face.
"It seems you were good at freelancing after all," she observes with a light and friendly tone.
Her comment makes me feel appreciated and recognized for my abilities, and I smile in response. "Thank you," I reply with gratitude, feeling encouraged by her approval.
"I think Professor Miller will like it," Cairo continues, biting her lower lip, lost in her thoughts.
A strange sparkle lights up her eyes, and at that moment, I decide to ask her a question that has tormented me for too long.
"Cairo do you have a crush on Professor Miller?" I ask timidly, curious but also intimidated by the possible answer.
Cairo blushes deeply. "What on earth are you asking?" she responds sharply, clearly embarrassed.
"From the way you react to his mention..." I say with curiosity, "and also you're completely red," I add with a timid smile.
Cairo shakes her head firmly. "No, no," she responds promptly, "I admire Professor Miller, but I don't have a crush on him. He's old, and, above all, he's married." Her tone is decisive.
"Well, gray hair isn't very attractive, right?" I ask with a smile on my lips, while I observe Cairo nodding slightly, smiling broadly and showing her dimples.
Freckles surround her face as her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders.
Cairo looks up at the sky, which is turning orange at sunset, a sign that the day is coming to an end. "I think it's time to go," she says timidly, almost regretfully.
"Is the study session over already?" I say in surprise, pouting.
Cairo nods and smiles. "So, do you like literature now?" she winks, teasing me.
"Not exactly, but the lesson goes better with you," I reply, aware of what I'm saying and noticing the slight blush on Cairo's cheeks.
I realize what I've said afterward and feel terribly embarrassed. A wave of nervousness overwhelms me as I notice a hint of pink on Cairo's cheeks.
Oh darn, I want to die, I think dramatically.
Cairo looks away. "Well, see you tomorrow.""Ah, yes, of course! See you tomorrow," I reply, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a smile. I feel the heat rising in my face as the embarrassment grows inside me. "Thank you for today, it was... interesting," I quickly add, hoping to alleviate the strange tension that had arisen.
"Thanks to you," she says softly, her gaze warm and comforting.
With a smile on my lips, I watch Cairo walk away. Despite the day starting off badly, it ended in the best possible way.
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max1461 · 2 months
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Other people want the world as a whole to "mean something" or "be about something" and I just don't. That's so terribly constricting, so suffocating. I'm much more inclined to positive nihilism.
I'm reading about LotR lore lately, and I really like LotR, but all the Christianity in it distresses me. Why must the world be governed by Eru Ilúvatar's infallible and undefeatable master plan? Doesn't that take out all the stakes? More importantly: part of what I like about LotR is its valorization of the small and the ordinary, as represented in the hobbits but also in, you know, Tolkien's proclivity to spend more time talking about potatoes than he needs to, and whatnot. There's a valorization of the small over the grandiose. It's like, finding dignity in the ordinary or something, that feels like a big part of Tolkien's project, and I'm deeply sympathetic to that. But then he has to go and add, you know, an omnipotent and omnibenevolent creator and omnimalevolent enemy (Melkor, not Sauron) and like...
First of all I hate the combination of omnipotence and omnibenevolence, it just doesn't work in any kind of narrative, it doesn't work in Christianity either, it's just *so* having your cake and eating it too. Like, Christianity itself has something of a "valorization of the small" going on but it also fails there, because (people have already said all these things) Jesus isn't actually just some guy, he's actually god the all-powerful and infallible lord of the universe! And he doesn't even really suffer or debase himself except temporarily, he ascends to heaven in the end, whereas sinners are sent to hell to suffer permanently for their imperfections. And "the meek will inherit the earth" by submitting to God and doing everything he says!
Not really valorizing the small there IMO.
Anyway Christianity doesn't succeed at this but the thing about Tolkien is he gets so close. When he says stuff (this is from one of his letters apparently, I quoted it the other day) like
It had been Sauron’s virtue (and therefore also the cause of his fall, and of his relapse) that he loved order and coordination, and disliked all confusion and wasteful friction… it was the creatures of the earth, in their minds and wills, that he desired to dominate.
I'm like, yeah! I'm with you bro! But then there's the whole thing about, well, Eru Ilúvatar's creation was perfect until Melkor's discordant singing marred it, and now it's imperfect and that's the source of all evil, but it's also fine because Eru's vision is bound to win out in the end, it's like... you're undercutting your whole thing! Eru is doing what Sauron wants to do, it's just that he's winning at it. Maybe the point is that Eru permits free will, or something, while Sauron doesn't. But this still seems weak in light of the whole "Melkor as the origin of imperfection" thing. You can't valorize the small and the ordinary without being comfortable with imperfection. You can't make a story where imperfection is Inherently Evil, as it seems to quite literally be in Tolkien's cosmology, and have it land for me as a critique of lust for power. Like. What do people even want to do with power except Eliminate All The Imperfections? Obviously some just want to enrich themselves, but I think Tolkien's opposition to power-seeking plainly runs a lot deeper than just opposition to self-interested power-seeking, which is
what I like about it, and
why this incongruity is so frustrating.
Anyway, there's that Scott Alexander post, Heuristics that Almost Always Work. I agree with the thesis of the post as such, but there's this line in it that perfectly articulates the reason rationalism tends to alienate me:
The Futurist He comments on the latest breathless press releases from tech companies. This will change everything! say the press releases. “No it won’t”, he comments. This is the greatest invention ever to exist! say the press releases. “It’s a scam,” he says. Whatever upheaval is predicted, he denies it. Soon we’ll all have flying cars! “Our cars will remain earthbound as always”. Soon we’ll all use cryptocurrency! “We’ll continue using dollars and Visa cards, just like before.” We’re collapsing into dictatorship! “No, we’ll be the same boring oligarchic pseudo-democracy we are now” A new utopian age of citizen governance will flourish. “You’re drunk, go back to bed.” When all the Brier scores are calculated and all the Bayes points added up, he is the best futurist of all. Everyone else occasionally gets bamboozled by some scam or hype train, but he never does. His heuristic is truly superb. But - say it with me - he could be profitably replaced with a rock. “NOTHING EVER CHANGES OR IS INTERESTING”, says the rock, in letters chiseled into its surface. Why hire a squishy drooling human being, when this beautiful glittering rock is right there?
Bolding in the final paragraph mine.
"Nothing ever happens or is interesting". Really? Is that what the skeptical futurist is saying? Certainly he's saying "nothing ever happens", that I'll grant. But he's not saying "nothing is ever interesting". You added that, Scott, because to be interested you need something Big to happen. You are not filled with love for the small and ordinary, it is just wasted time and wasted space to you.
I do not particularly like the Big, at least not most of the time. I like the small quite a lot. And, contrary to their names, I think most of the world is small. The world is made of lots of small things, not a couple big things. And I often feel that the small is the only thing that's actually real, the big tends to be illusory. As a small creature it is other small things that affect me most and matter most to me, it is my small dealings with other small creatures that are subjectively the biggest. And the various grand narratives of history, if they exist, only affect me in a diffuse and nonspecific way and are in all their specifics born out in small things.
I am very much a partisan of ordinary things, ordinary dealings, of our daily lives and our individual relationships and perhaps ephemeral but deeply felt emotions as the actual source of value in the world, from which Big things insofar as they matter at all derive their importance. And, aesthetically I suppose, I am also a defender of the inherent dignity of small things and cast-aside things (a different but closely related category). And there are close connections between the small and the vast (which is not the same as Big), and. Well, take my uquiz. But anyway.
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romeosharpae · 11 months
Text
“SAVE YOUR TEARS”
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theodore nott x reader
content warning : extremely toxic relationship, cursing, public sex, mature language, explicit adult content, rough sex?, degrading, theodore nott x female reader, oral (f receiving), toxic! theodore nott.
parts : 1,2,
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You're sure that if you were to ask anyone with common sense what they thought about you and Theodore Nott's relationship, they'd say it should be against Wizarding law.
"I don't want to talk!" You reprimanded, folding your arms over your chest with a huff. Theodore Nott simply rolled his dead-like blue eyes at your enraged lie.
Looking up at him, you could've sworn a twisted smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "C'mon baby, you're hurting my feelings." He mocked your soft voice.
"You don't have feelings." You mumbled, frustration growing in your voice. Theodore lowly chuckled, leaning his face down to kiss you but you turn away. "Get off of me, Nott, I need to go to Transfiguration."
Theo wrapped a veiny hand around your forearm when you tried to push past him, pulling you back to the stone wall. This time Theodore placed both his hands aside your head, trapping you between him and the wall. From the look on his pale face, you could tell that he knew you were still upset.
But how could you not be?
"Go back to wherever you were last--" Theodore scoffed loudly, drowning out the seething words leaving your lips.
"Are you kidding me?" He snapped. Even though you hated when he used that tone towards you, you weren't to back down. No, you were not about to apologize to Theodore and end up on your knees seconds later just to stop his yelling this time around.
"Funny. Those are the same exact words I repeated last night as I waited around thirty minutes for you." You shot back.  "You know, Theodore.. I really do hate y--"
"Watch your mouth." He warned.
"What's her name, huh?" You continued. Theodore's jaw clenched from anger. He can handle every insult you threw his way, but Theodore really hated when you accused him of being with someone else. "Is it Greengrass? She didn't learn from the last time I dragged her by her root--?!"
You recalled the last time one of Theodore's hook-ups confronted you, and the amount of Slytherin's it took to get you off of her. As previously said before, you were a sweet girl, but the side of you that Theodore brought out, wasn't as friendly or sweet..
"Shut up, you're not even that type of girl." Oddly enough, Theodore was right, you were not the type of a girl to threaten to physically hurt someone, especially over him. The more you thought about it, the more stupider that you sounded by saying that.
You were so stupid.
Had you not been stupid you wouldn't be in this predicament with the emotionless Slytherin brunette. You would've ran for this hills the moment he made it clear your relationship was just a friend-with-benefits dynamic, knowing you wanted more. Theodore knew you were stupid, so vulnerable, and he took advantage of that.
And that made your eyes began to well with tears, eyesight becoming blurred. Before you could even get the chance to control yourself, you began sobbing loudly. How could it even be possibly to hate someone yet love them as much as you do Theodore Nott?
Lucky for your image, everyone else was in class, or you would've looked like a complete maniac to the bystanders.
"Fuck..." Theodore deeply exhaled. The sobbing only became louder as he wrapped his arms around your figure, the heat from his body which was usually comforting seeming insufferable. "What's wrong..? What did I do?"
"Everything!"
You pushed yourself away from him, completely catching your lover off guard. During the years that you've known each other, never have you pushed him away. Even if he was the reasoning behind your distress, you still allowed him to comfort you.
"My best friend hates me!" You cried out, sadness easily detected in your tone. "She won't even talk to me!"
"Why would she hate you?"
Hate was complete exaggeration and you definitely knew that. Hermione Granger actually doesn't hate you. But you don't doubt for a moment she was extremely upset and disappointed with you; You, and everybody else could see the anger on her face when Theodore walked with you, hand-in-hand, inside the Great hall the morning following your rekindling at the Black lake.
"Umm, because I keep putting myself in the same unhealthy situation with you--" You said the obvious and your voice cracks.
Unhealthy situation (toxic).
Despite you being upset in the moment, you knew to avoid having Theodore's patience with you snapping, you shouldn't call it that.
He hated when you or outsiders would name your relationship that.. He claimed that although it had its flaws-way more than the common couple, it wasn't toxic.
But it was!
"Merlin." Theodore hissed, irritated. "Why does it matter what she thinks, Y/N?" Theo's continued rambles make you frown. "Granger and Weasley can not even admit they like each other--Why would she even care?"
"Because she's my friend!"
You could tell he wished she wasn't..
"Friends care about each other, Theodore. Unlike you and yours, me and Hermione are not just friends because it makes us look good." You started hypocritically, and a small frown spreads on the brunette's lips. "So of course she's not going to want me to be with someone who treats me like.. crap!"
You were telling the actual truth. The little patience that he had for you during your outburst has fully vanished as he grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you to look into his dark blue eyes. "Don't say that, Y/N."And you could see the anger rising in his face although he had no right to be mad,
Hermione would tell you that the worse part about you and Theodore's situation was that you knew he disregarded your emotions yet you still went back. It ashamed you how Theodore had you wrapped around his finger. And you fully knew that a toxic relationship was bad enough, but it was even worse if both parties knew the reality of it.
And perhaps that's what led you sob even louder in the moment. Or why you wrapped your arms around Theodore, letting your emotions off into his chest. The brunette's hands slides up from your neck into the back of your head, rubbing you in comfort.
"Aren't the two of you suppose to be in class right now?" Flinch, who guarded the corridors questioned nastily.
If looks could kill, Flinch would be unresponsive on the ground from the way that Theodore turns to glare at him. You pulled away from him, despite the protest your body was giving you, and wiped your tears. There's Concern is written over the squibs face as he watched pull yourself together.
Your attempt to walk away and to Transfiguration fails against when Theodore repeated his earlier action by pulling you back to him. "Stop crying." Theodore's large hands cups your face, bringing you to meet him in a gentle yet powerful kiss.
Merlin, you really hated Theodore, just everything about him. But unfortunately for your sanity, you found yourself loving those same things undefinably.
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Did Theodore Nott love you?
You found it sad that you knew the complicated answer to that overly question.  Yet here you were standing, knuckles practically forced between your lips, one leg pressed into the wooden bookshelf as Theodore ate you out like a starved man.
His tongue was roughly swirling against on your clitoris, annually sucking up the juices he earned from you. Your heart was beating rapidly, chest heaving up and down. And you didn't know weather this adrenaline rush was from the pleasure you were feeling or because you were in the schools library.. Or because on the other side of the bookcase was Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
A person who Theodore had just wrongly accused you of flirting with and wanting to fuck, and the other who probably wishes upon a well that you'd leave him alone. Clearly, the brunettes motives behind wanting to take you right here were clear. And had he not preformed a silencing charm on the two of you, your sure they would've heard your whining and his sucking, slurping, and curses. But a silencing charm wouldn't have stopped someone, anyone, from walking by and seeing the two of you in this obscene state, and that makes you throb, lowly moaning.
"Theo--" You sob.
Theodore growled against your wet flesh, bringing your body closer to him by the hand that he had on your waist. "You want more?"
Despite it being so sick, you nod.
And you knew the sickness behind this situation was what caused that large smile to smile across his full pink lips. He pushed your leg further back into the bookshelf, allowing himself more access before burying his face in-between your thighs once again.
You were absolutely terrified of what would happen had somebody saw you like this, vaginal area on display as the same boy you'd just been fighting with in the courtyard made a embarrassing mess out of you, the rumors that would be spread about you would tarnish your reputation for sure.
You squeeze your eyes shut, butting down further on your knuckles as you roll yourself against his pleasuring tongue.
You could feel your release approaching, probably only one tongue swipe away from getting it out of you. But Theodore ripped his mouth away from you, like you did not deserve your release, and it's gone with the wind. He was such a tease, and you really hated that. Theodore slapped your hand away when you tried to pull his head back between your thighs. Theodore stands to his feet, towering over your height like a tree as usual, and you watched as his fingers frantically went to unbuckle his belt. The desperation clear, the burning fire, behind his eyes as he started at you lets you know that Theodore Nott was seriously about to fuck you until were completely incoherent.
Harshly, Theodore manhandled you around until your back was facing him. Now, your chest was pushed up against the cold bookshelf and due to a few missing books, you could currently see both Hermione and Harry sitting down at a table, studying. Had one of them looked up and stared in your direction, your sure they'd see your face. This makes you hiss out, wanting to look away but Theodore roughly grabbed your jaw, keeping you in place before you could even get the chance.
"Hold it," He breathed out, and without a second thought you scrunched up the plaid school skirt you wore in your hands. Your breath hiked, "'He's no good for you, Y/L/N'" Theodore gritted in your ear, mocking your best friend. Before you could defend her honor, you felt him buried deep inside of you.
"Why don't you fuck my other best friend instead?" Your body knocked into the bookshelf at every hard thrust he gave you. From the way Theodore had you stretched around him your jaw drops, a strangled moan escaping from it loudly. "But you'd like that wouldn't you? He's what you want?"
You would admit that Harry Potter was an attractive boy. He was nice to you, always offered to help you with things, or walk you back to your house after class. And to say that you never thought he liked you would be a lie. But why would you want anything to do with Harry when you had Theodore?
Your eyes squeezed shut. At your lack of response to his question, Theodore pounds into you painfully harder, no doubt realizing that you are actually thinking about the question. "But I'm what you need, Y/N. He can't ever do the things that I do to you, remember that." You whine like a neglected infant at that, for more perhaps?
You stand up on you are tipped toes, attempting to brush an little bit of the pleasuring pain you were feeling but Theodore wasn't going for it. He wrapped his hand around your throat, forcing your back to his chest, whispering harshly in your ear, "Stop running, Take it."
Your pull your lower lip between teeth, attempting to stop yourself from screaming as you finally came undone. Tears began to fall from your glistening eyes, landing on the white button up blouse that were wearing.
Theodore ruts himself into you even harder, holding you in place by your throat to get himself off and nearly cutting off your airway. Although you didn't entirely mind.
As previously said, you enjoyed everything Theodore Nott had to offer you, even the not exactly mentally sane stuff. Theodore finally pulled himself out of you, and you were that he was about to finish. That was until he spun your around to face him, placed his hands underneath your kneecap, and hauled you up. Without even having to be asked,  you wrapped your legs around his waist.
You also took Theodore's lips into yours without having to be asked. Your trembling hands catered his face, tongue sliding over his in an extremely sloppy manner.
But the kiss was disconnected, your teeth baring with a hiss when he slips back in you. Theodore was pace was different this position, a lot more slower and deep, almost meaningful. "You think he'll still like you if he saw us?" He challenged, panting heavily.
"You wouldn't even care, would you?" He chuckled, giving you a smile that displays all his pretty pearly white teeth. "Because I'm all you need, right?"
You nodded your head, agreeing.
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"Merlin Nott, you're such asshole!"
You had not even realized that you were crying.. not until you felt Pansy Parkinson hands brush against your cheeks. Her other hand was on your back, attempting to soothe you but it was failing to work.
Theodore looked at you with dead eyes. Yet even then you could see the amusement behind them, almost taunting you. And that made you that much angrier. You picked up an object from the table, launching at the brunette. "I...I hate you! S-So much!"
Theodore dodged it, the same way he does every time you tried throwing something at him while arguing. "Crazy little bi--"
Crazy?
Truthfully, you were in disbelief at the word that just escaped Theo's mouth. How dare he have the nerve to say you were behaving crazy? How dare he? Not when Theodore just basically called you clingy and told you to fuck off in front of his friends.
The embarrassment hurt just as bad as any other time he denied your relationship in and out closed doors. How could he just call things off whenever he felt like it? And you realize that you gave him that confidence by crawling back each time he did.
You're the reason that Theodore felt so comfortable treating you like something off the bottom of his shoe whenever he felt like it. And who was to say that that would change if there was a label on your situation?
"Why do you keep doing this to me?!" You spoke to him and his jaw clenched. "Merlin What did I do to deserve this?" You cried more to yourself this time.
Ever since you welcomed Theodore back in your life at the Black Lake, you have found your self crying so much more. Why did you have to love someone so nonchalant? So evil Why couldn't you love someone like Harry.. or even Draco Malfoy would be better.
Anything was better than someone that was selfish like Theodore Nott. You have dug yourself into this to insane misalliance because you have allowed him to be so selfish with your love that he didn't even deserve.
“Y--You don’t even deserve me...” You admitted said to him, sniffling. “So hey Nott, fuck you.” You wanted to launch something else at Theodore, shout, cry some more but that was the reaction that he wants from you. “Fuck you, Theodore Nott!” His jaw clenched at those words, expression twisting.
He wanted to see you insane at his hands, break yourself until you had other choice but to come to him comfort.
You snatched yourself out of Pasny’s grip, Theodore wore an expression that you couldn’t quite read because it’s so unfamiliar. Regret? Confusion? You couldn’t tell.
And for that you could not contain yourself from throwing a pillow at him. “You will never find someone better than me!”
You both knew that.
Then you breathlessly laughed, “And that’s disappointing because you’ll never ever have me again, Theodore Nott.”
Part four >>>
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bkgml · 1 year
Text
“i want you” part 2!!
part 1
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katsuki wakes up late.
feeling his girl wrapped in his arms, he peels open his swollen eyes.
you’re still asleep, still peaceful. it’s as if you have no idea what happened the night before.
and he wants you to stay this peaceful. even if it’s just for awhile longer.
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“hey man, you okay?” kirishima asks as katsuki exits his bedroom.
katsuki looks awful, and he knows it.
“memory’s back.” he mumbles, grabbing the coffee pot from kirishimas hand.
he feels a hand patting his back.
“howd she take it?”
katsuki answers with nothing but a sigh, heavy with sorrow.
“i’m sorry.” kirishima says.
“i don’t know what to do.” katsuki whispers.
he can feel tears in his eyes but he refuses to let them fall.
“go see her. enjoy the last moments you have with her.” kirishima responds.
katsuki nods slowly.
on shaky legs, he inches towards his bedroom.
he opens the door and you’re still sleeping soundly.
he inhales deeply before shutting the door and taking one last look at kirishima. kirishima sends an awkward wave and a smile his way while watching the door close.
katsuki turns to you and watches you stir slightly as he climbs into bed.
wrapping his warm arms around your waist and pulling the blanket higher on your bodies, kisses your face softly before finally taking a deep inhale of your hair and falling asleep.
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“why is this happening? we love each other isn’t that enough for them?!” your voice, muffled and filled with anguish reaches katsuki’s ears behind the closed doors.
he frowns, burying himself deeper into the comfort of your scent on his sheets.
“i know. the commission does what they want though. they can’t have the number 2 heroes girl go missing, then no civilians will feel safe.” kirishima reasons.
“he keeps me safe! don’t they have any trust in him?! if they trust him enough to do his job then they can stay the fuck out of my business!” you yell and katsuki hears your voice break.
jumping out of bed and opening his door he sees you crying with your face in your hands and kirishima awkwardly standing to the side.
katsuki engulfs you in his arms and you fist his shirt.
“don’t cry, sweetness. they’re not worth it.” he says, rubbing your back.
“you’re worth it. we’re worth it katsuki, don’t you get that?” you look up at him with furrowed brows.
he threads his fingers through your hair and looks at you softly.
“of course i get that.” he says, kissing your forehead.
you tuck your face into his chest and sob quietly.
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kirishima paces the room in distress.
“i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to help you guys.”
you and katsuki look up from your spot on the couch, you in his lap and his arms caging you in.
katsuki hears a small whimper of defeat from beside him and he shushes you, pressing small kisses to your face.
you look to him, tears filling your eyes.
“are you going to kick me out?” you whisper, hand clutching his shirt.
“don’t worry about that right now. we’re going to fix this i promise.” he says, reaching his hand behind your head and pulling you closer to him.
the three of you spend the day inside, ordering food and discussing plans to propose a deal with the commission.
katsuki looks over at you, eyes drooping and your face resting in the palm of your hand.
he reaches for your thigh and you perk up a little, eyes meeting his.
“go take a nap, okay? i’ll be right here when you wake up.” he assures you.
you rest your head on his shoulder.
“you promise?” you ask meekly, hand reaching out for his.
he squeezes your hand and thigh in affirmation.
pressing his forehead to your temple, he nods against your head.
“go sleep.” he says softly.
“yeah yn, you deserve a good rest right now.” kiri chimes in with a smile.
you nod and hug katsuki before walking to his bedroom and sending a wave to the two of them.
the men continue talking and you fall asleep quickly in katsuki’s bed.
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you open your eyes and look to the clock, 4:00am.
you smile as you feel katsuki’s arms tighten around your waist.
turning in his grip, you admire his peaceful face.
“i love you more than anything.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his nose.
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peeling your eyes open, you admire the chirps of birds outside katsuki’s open window.
6:30am.
you don’t feel katsuki beside you so you stretch a little before swinging your legs over the bed and walking towards the door.
as you open it, you hear the lack of chatter between the two men and see the empty apartment.
“…kats?” you call into the open air.
“katsuki??” you say walking into the empty kitchen and pacing.
“katsuki? kirishima?” you call more urgently, practically running into the living room.
“kats?!” you call, voice breaking.
you’re panting now, hyperventilating. he wouldn’t leave you like this. not this way.
“baby?? hey. i heard you calling for me.” katsuki says, jogging into his living room.
you whine, running to him.
“katsuki.” you whimper, jumping into his arms, limbs wrapped around him tightly.
“hey. hey. what’s wrong?” he soothes, eyes and hands running over your body to check if anything’s physically wrong.
“where were you?” you sputter.
“i thought you left me again. you promised you’d be at the table when i woke up.” you cry, pressing grateful kisses over his face between your words.
he walks you over to the couch, sitting with you in his lap.
“i’m sorry, sweetness. i had to pee. kirishima went to get us breakfast.” he says, running his hands over your arms.
“i thought-“ you hiccup.
“i thought you left me. i’m being so irrational.” you says through tears.
“i’m not leaving you. never again. i promise.” he says, his own eyes a little teary.
he kisses you sweetly until your tears stop.
“do you wanna take a shower before kirishima gets back?” he says softly against your lips.
you nod in reply and he takes you to the shower. where he shampoos your head for you and drags a loofa over your skin, pressing kisses over your skin in the process.
by the time the two of you are done, freshly cleaned and in new clothes. kirishima has breakfast laid out for the three of you.
“hey guys. let’s eat!” he says cheerily, sitting down and digging in.
the three of you eat together, finally laughing just like old times.
after you finished eating, you all joined together to wash, dry and put away the dishes, still laughing.
“should we watch tv?” kirishima asks and katsuki nods, the two of them starting to walk to the living room.
you stand still, confused.
“but what about making a plan for the commission?” you ask.
they turn back to look at you.
katsuki reaching his hand out and kirishima grinning.
“we made the plan before bed last night.” kirishima says, grin never faltering.
you hesitate, confused. but eventually take katsuki’s hand anyway. watching tv with them until sundown.
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“you’re tired.” katsuki says, watching you stifle a yawn.
you shake your head in protest but lean forward to rest your head on his chest anyways.
you yawn again and he grins.
“sleepy girl.” he teases.
“no… no i’m not.” you mumble sleepily.
he pats your arms before standing, forcing your head to fall back onto the couch.
you groan, trying to get comfortable again.
“come on. kirishimas already asleep. let’s go sleep.” he says, soothing your protests and lifting you over his shoulder.
you look to your red headed friend and seeing that he is-in fact asleep.
katsuki pushes kirishimas head until his falls onto the other end of the couch, allowing him to lie down with only the slightest bit of uncomfortableness.
“night kiri.” you say slowly, tiredly. as you watch over him from your spot on katsuki’s shoulder.
“alright. there you go.” katsuki says, placing you down on his bed. the bed that’s been your home for the last three days.
“come.” you whine, making the slightest grabby hands at him.
he laughs, climbing into bed with you.
you shuffle close to him and wrap yourself completely around him. giving him no chance of escape. not that he wants to, he’s perfectly happy in the prison of your warm limbs.
“missed you.” you say quietly, tracing his face with your finger. as gently as you can, following the curve of his nose and lips, his cheekbones and brushing up his hair to see his cute forehead.
“missed your face.” you whisper, eyes meeting his.
he looks perfectly content.
“missed you too, sweets. you and your face.”
you hum, tucking your face into his neck to place warm kisses to his collarbones and allowing your hand to slip under his shirt to trace his chest and his abs.
“are you nervous about tomorrow..?” you ask, eyes refusing to meet his.
he brings his own hand up his sweater that you’re wearing to trace your spine slowly, the rhythm making your eyes flutter closed.
“no. me and kirishima made a great plan. it’s gonna work.” he says firmly, hoping to convince you.
you release a shaky breath. worry evident in your tone you ask,
“but what if it doesn’t?”
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“hey guys! i didn’t hear you go to bed last night.” kirishima says, greeting the two of you with a fresh pot of coffee.
“yeah? that’s cause you were conked out before 8.” katsuki retorts and you giggle.
kirishima laughs too and pours three cups of coffee for the three of you to enjoy.
“alright guys. todays the day.” kirishima announces.
katsuki nods, taking a sip from his mug. and you tap your fingers on your own mug.
“so why don’t i know of this plan?” you ask, finger tracing the rim before you take a sip.
the two men look at each other.
“cause i like teasin you. making you nervous.” katsuki grins, mischievously.
you groan. glaring at him.
“it’s working a little too well. don’t i need to do anything to prepare? anything i can help with?” you say.
“you have to go back to your apartment and get dressed in clothes other than mine.” katsuki replies, pinching the baggy arm of his sweatshirt your body.
you laugh but a question plagues your mind.
“you aren’t gonna come with me..?” you ask.
he cups your face and you lean into his hand.
“the press would be broadcasting a sighting of the two of you before we’d get a chance to even talk to the commission.” kirishima answers, face apologetic.
you huff but you understand.
“you’re gonna meet us at the commissions office at noon, okay?” katsuki says as he bids you farewell at the door.
you nod. his arms are around your waist and you don’t want to leave them. you know it’s silly, but you just got him back. you don’t want to risk never getting held by him like this again.
“promise this plans going to work.” you say, holding out your pinky as a silent request.
he rolls his eyes before linking his pinky with yours.
“so childish.” he says.
you step onto your tippy toes and press your lips to his as a farewell.
you press all your emotions into him while your lips move together slowly.
“noon.” you confirm as you pull away.
he nods, releasing his arms from around you.
“bye kirishima.” you say, hugging him right.
“bye yn. see you there.” he replies.
you step out the door and begin your walk to your apartment.
*incoming call from ‘katsu’*
“hi, suki. i’m walking into my apartment building right now.” you said calmly.
“have you seen the news??” he asks, a little panicked.
your brows pull together in confusion, your step pattern faltering slightly.
“…no, why?”
your phone dings as a new message comes in.
10:14am
katsu: ARTICLE: pro hero dynamites ex girlfriend last seen wearing men’s clothing while exiting his apartment building. have the two come together once more?
“shit.” you say, palm coming to cover your mouth.
“what does this mean, will the commission still meet with us?” you ask nervously.
“i hope so. just focus on getting there, okay?” he replies and the two of you say your goodbyes and hang up.
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standing outside the commissions office, you feel dread creeping up the back of your neck.
“we’re gonna be okay.” katsuki assures you.
“yeah yn, our plan is gonna work.” kiri chimes in.
the three of you walk into the building together and you grab katsuki’s hand.
as he looks at you, he feels the need to protect you and shield you from these people.
you feel his grip tighten on your hand and you smile up at him with an unsure look on your face.
“don’t show them you’re scared.” he whispers lowly to you.
you nod in reply and straighten your back a little more, lift your chin a little higher.
you all walk through the corridors and your head goes fuzzy, you know you see katsuki talking to the receptionist and you know you watch as the commission greets you all coldly but it’s like you’re not even there at all.
you stand in that office across from the conference table of people for hours as katsuki and kirishima argue with them.
finally, katsuki is fed up and slams his fist on the table, silencing everyone.
you come out of your trance then and hear the quiet murmurs of the commission and katsuki’s heavy breathing.
“if you people don’t get your shit together and stay the fuck out of my business. i’m quitting.”
you gasp, eyes flying towards him in protest but he puts his hand up to shush you.
you watch as the commission attempts to mask their shock and play it off.
“please. you wouldn’t quit. and besides, even if you did we still have plenty of hero’s. the world doesn’t need dynamite.” someone retorts.
you feel white hot anger bubbling up through your veins but katsuki and kirishima don’t seem fazed.
“then i’ll quit too.” kirishima says.
you hear noises from outside in the hallway before the door opens.
“and i’ll quit too.” mina says, stepping into the room.
“same here.” kaminari says.
“i will also quit.” todoroki nods.
suddenly you see around 20 hero’s walking through the door, all announcing they’re quitting.
finally, izuku, the number one hero steps into the room.
“and i’ll quit too.” he declares.
the whole conference table of commission members shift uncomfortably in their seats.
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“WE DID IT!!” kirishima screams.
the whole sidewalk of pro hero’s erupt in cheers and hollers.
some hug you, others pat katsuki on the back.
you feel overjoyed and jump into katsuki’s arms, the two of you sharing a kiss.
“let’s go home.” katsuki says.
you nod quickly, dropping back onto the ground.
while you’re sitting in bed that night, there’s increased touches and sweet kisses shared between you.
“i love you more than anything.” you whisper while being held tight in his arms.
“not as much as i love you.” he grins, arms tightening around you and he kisses your temple.
“i guess we should thank that villain that took away your memory, huh?” you say giggling.
he rolls his eyes playfully before biting your nose.
“just go to bed.”
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