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#end the stunts
so-idialed-9 · 2 years
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Harry truthfully and as he knows it representing a closeted gay man in a societally-forced fauxmance. Understatement of the year.
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Love this era of blatantly stating the obvious. Feels very Big Gay War of him but this time others have joined the fight.
Adding - Harry came to THEM with the script memorized and ideas for scenes.
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nesperus · 5 months
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me and the besties !!
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theloveinc · 9 months
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kirishima x reader - kiri really, really, REALLY wants a third child.
(warnings: afab + fem reader who is a mom with two bio babies, breeding, slight sense of dubcon but it really is con, slight voyeurism, heavy on the pregnancy, mention of sick baby + baby coming early (all is well tho), son = mister, daughter = missy, abrupt end)
1.5k+ words. enjoy!!
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-
The conversation comes up on a sunny day in Denki’s backyard. His wife and their newest daughter in her lap sunbathing next to you, the baby reaching out for your sleeve every so often as the three of you watch Denki, Kiri and the older children—save for the oldest who claims she’s too big for such things—play in the sprinklers, screaming. 
“Have you thought about a third?” Denki’s wife asks, tipping down her sunglasses to send you an inquisitive stare.
“Oh, god, no. Ei and I are done.” 
“Really?” she seems surprised. “He’s such a good father, you’d think…”
You shrug, taking a sip of the mango slush that was provided to you when you first arrived. “We were considering it, but mister came so early that the stress of another seemed too much.”
“Ah, I know how that goes all too well. Has Kiri gotten, you know…?” She makes a snipping motion with her fingers.
You snort, the thought almost as implausible as Denki with a son. Doctors have recommended that most heroes remain unaltered, at least to reduce the chances of hormone levels fluctuating unexpectedly and causing changes in prowess… and though that didn’t stop Bakugo five years ago and nothing’s changed about his aggression or fighting style, your husband still uses the warning as an excuse to stay hesitant. 
“Oh, hell no. Have you tried talking to him about it? He goes nuts, and the man is stubborn as a bull.” 
“Are you guys using condoms, then?”
At that, you can’t help but laugh. Protected sex after what? Nearly ten years of marriage? Kirishima was far from the type even when you first met, if you tried bringing up latex contraception now, he’d practically consider it offensive, or a threat to his masculinity at the very least. 
“Pills for now. Surprisingly the side effects have been manageable.” 
“Aren’t you worried those might fail?” 
Her persistent concern touches you, and how could it not when she and her husband have to wrangle five, blonde, Kaminari daughters from sunset to sundown on the daily… but it’s nothing you don’t think you and Ei couldn’t navigate together if need be. 
The youngest starts squirming for you and you offer to take her in your arms, trading your slush to plop her on the warmth of your lap which immediately ceases her cooing. 
“Well,” you tickle her baby plump belly, the delighted squeal you get in response making you grin, “I guess an accident wouldn’t be so bad if they turned out like this one.” 
-
Little did you know, Kirishima overheard your little, half-joking declaration. It’s a wonder, given that you’d assumed if the water hadn’t drowned out your voices, the seven screaming children (and Denki) would’ve.
But he catches you the next morning, fresh out of the shower as you stand in the bathroom prepping your skin for the rest of the day.
“I heard,” he leans in behind you, his damp and loose hair reflected in the mirror, “you said you wanted another baby?”
You chuckle, the steamy warmth of his belly pressing into your back almost overwhelming, “I said, accidents happen, my love. I’m perfectly content with the three babies I have now.” 
Kirishima pouts, the hands on your hips tightening as they slowly turn you around to face him. 
“What if we…?” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.
“Haven’t we talked about this?” you yawn, picking a stray piece of thread off of the damp towel hanging around his shoulders, your other hand running down his bare chest. “I thought we agreed two was enough?” 
“I was just thinking, you know, it doesn’t sound so bad now that mister is older and all.”
You wave him off, nudging your way out from between the sink counter and his hips before pressing one quick peck to his cheek. 
“Shoo. You’re going to be late for work,” Kirishima doesn’t let you go so easily, his hands lingering and only falling when you’re finally out of reach. “There’s a lunch in the fridge. Don’t get hung up on it, yeah?”
-
But Kirishima is hung up on it.
He loves being a dad more than anything, feels as though it's one of the many reasons he was placed on this earth, and though he loves you now more than any other time in his life and would love you no matter what happened to your body, he can’t say he wasn’t extremely delighted when you were pregnant... nor that he doesn’t want to see another rounded belly on you again.
Besides, your daughter was so curious about it, so precious and clingy, but she was almost too little to understand what was happening in your belly when you were swollen with your son… that Kirishima really only has a handful of memories of you all together before one baby became two and two babies became children.
And when he spent their babyhood was spent half in a hospital and half with you out of commission, he just can't help but imagine that doing it over with a third would make his whole life complete.
It just makes perfect sense. 
-
It’s couple’s hot yoga the next time it gets brought up, Kirishima helping you hold the warm-up stretches as he ponders the questions out loud.
“Have you thought about it at all?” He whispers, hands pulling your thigh away from your face and into a stretch meant to straighten your hamstrings. 
“Thought about what?”
“Baby number three,” he lowers your leg and helps switch you to the other side. 
You laugh, disturbing the calm of the heated studio, apologizing to the other couples there softly after. “You seem pretty committed.”
Kirishima nods like a desperate puppy, knowing how he must look in his loose tank top and sweatband, his hair pushed back from his forehead revealing a flush that isn’t yet due to the steam in the room. 
“What’s so good about a third, anyway?” you as say as he repositions your leg from straight to bent at the instructors command. “You know how sick mister was. I can’t go through that again.”
“What if you didn’t have to?
You glare, straining your neck to make sure Kiri can get a peak at your angry eyes. “You say that like you know what would happen.”
"I just…” he shrugs, thumb rubbing your ankle. “We missed missy’s toddler years taking care of mister, and by the time he was walking, missy was using full on sentences and demanded that we start treating her like an adult.” 
The instructor commands you turn on your side and begin the same stretches that way. 
“You were also still recovering from the pregnancy, I had to go back to work… and I want to do it again but with just one this time. Savor the baby years the way we should’ve savored theirs.” 
Kirishima lets his palm brush the intersection between your thighs as he keeps your let from falling. Damp and warm with sweat, he can’t help but press his fingers into where your loins hide under your leggings and—
You stick your foot in his face, the other couples amongst the room already shifting. “Up. It’s your turn for stretches.”
-
“Shit.” 
“Ooh, mommy cussed!”
“You didn’t hear that, baby. I’m just—“ you squint at the notification on your device.
“What?” Kirishima asks, holding your daughter in his arms. The tops of her feet are pressing into his belly while they pass a large slice of dripping, red watermelon back and forth. Your son is preoccupied at the coloring table set up in the living room, drawing pictures of semi-naked heroes with enormous hairdos. 
“Pharmacy’s out of my birth control. Won’t be in for a few weeks.”
You don’t miss the way Kiri’s eyebrows immediately raise, though you glance back down at your phone to panic-click more buttons in the hopes that he gets the hint. 
“What’s that mean, babe?” he asks, feigning innocence about a subject you very well know he’s versed in. 
“What do you mean, what’s that mean?” 
“I mean, what are we gonna do about that? You know—“
You groan. 
“Hush. We’re just gonna pretend I didn’t say that and move on,” you turn on your feet to rush out of the room, calling over your shoulder. “And share the watermelon with mister. I’m calling the doctor.” 
“Ooh,” your daughter says again, her sticky hands going to Kiri’s cheeks which are pinched in a funny expression she doesn’t clock, “Daddy’s in trouble!” 
-
But honestly, Kirishima can’t pretend he hadn’t heard what you said… and truly doesn’t know what you were thinking when you suggested that he try. Birth control aside, on it or off it, you were bound to have sex eventually… that was never even the issue. 
Though when you bring up condoms to the whiney redhead barely a few days later, he barely manages to open one before accidentally flinging it across the room in trying to see how well it stretches. 
“I can’t do this,” Kirishima frowns, sitting back down on the bed after pulling his briefs back on to throw away the slimy piece of latex. He curls an arm back around you to pull you in between his legs, hands moving to grip your waist while he admires the cute black, mom panties you’re wearing that sit over the handles of your hips. “I don’t wanna wear a condom.”  
You sigh, your own hands scratching the tops of his shoulders. “You’re not planning on pulling out, either. Are you?”
“No,” he doesn’t even say it shamefully, “I’m not planning on pulling out.” 
“And you’re gonna hope that it sticks?” 
“Yes,” his eyelids flutter looking up at you. You’re so cute frowning like you’re not gonna let him have his way and then pretend it’s all his fault. An accident. “I’m gonna hope it gets you pregnant.” 
That makes you roll your eyes, though it also has you squeezing your legs together. 
“You’re such a dog.”
Kirishima nods, but you don’t stop him from slowing pulling your panties down. 
“Only for you.”
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wowitsverycool · 16 days
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sigh...................... i think we need to get 2016 undertale fandom levels of annoying. we need to take drastic measures. i want ISAT not just to be popular but to be NOTORIOUS. do you understand. do you understand me
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bluegarners · 1 month
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i guess the key, in my opinion, to writing a young dick grayson and bruce interaction is to make them gut-wrenchingly sincere. that's what gets me in fics, is the sincerity in their interactions, their every word. they have banter, and they have arguments, and they don't always say the right things to each other, but, to me, a well written dick and bruce interaction is one that is so tooth-rottingly sincere that it sticks out from all the chaos going around them. it is a beacon in the dark. they are each other's light, hope, and heart, wrapped up into one person. if they can't be sincere with each other, what is even the point?
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edgelessvoid · 2 months
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letting herself be vulnerable for a little bit (w/ the ref image under the cut)
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a whole week after i said i'd draw them like the goddamn car seats i drew them like the goddamn car seats
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thehollowwriter · 5 months
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I've witnessed first hand how fucking awful an overly controlling and manipulatuve mother can be.
It destroys your mental health. It makes you question your own worth and intelligence. It makes you unsure of who or what to believe. It makes you terrified of others perceiving you in anything but a positive light. And that's just mentally.
When people say Riddle's backstory was "tame" I want to strangle them because no, no it fucking wasn't. Just because she (supposedly) isn't beating him doesn't mean he has a "less bad" or "less tragic" childhood.
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lem0nademouth · 5 months
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do you ever think about just how many kids were supposed to die fighting in the hunger games.
we know that there were at least 80 quarter quells planned by the creators and game makers. thats 2,000 games. assuming all those games played out and the only year with more than 24 tributes was the second quarter quell, which had 48 tributes, 48,024 district children should have entered the arena. 2,000 should have gone home.
at least 46,024 district children were expected to die in the hunger games. we don’t have official numbers re: casualties from the first rebellion, but given how small the capitol is compared to the combined 13 districts it was battling, there is no way 46k capitol children even existed during the rebellion. the hunger games were never about revenge, they were always about control. crassus never wanted the districts to suffer in exchange for the suffering they caused. he wanted to watch kids fight to the death. the games were always a fantasy of pure gladiatorial combat conducted for entertainment purposes and nothing more.
not counting the third quarter quell, 1,725 district kids lost their lives in the arena. the remaining 75 tributes - a good number of whom died before the second rebellion - were permanently traumatized physically and mentally.
all because of one man and the son who grew up to be his replica. crassus and coriolanus have the blood of 1,725 children their hands and were prepared to sacrifice 44,300 more.
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misterbaritone · 3 months
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Damn I can’t believe Todd folded that hard for Wallace Wells.
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good-beanswrites · 2 months
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If ur still doing reqs id love older brother and little siblimg 0003!! I love es and fuuta sm, you can choose what they do but id rather it be post/no milgram!! Tysm
Ahh this was such a sweet request, thank you ✨ I had a lot of fun with it! I kept the details loose -- I don't know how t3 actually shakes out -- but Es still doesn't know much about themselves, so they end up moving in with the Kajiyamas. Enough time has passed for things to become fairly normal between the two.
“What are you doing? It’s giving me the fucking creeps.”
Fuuta made a disgusted face, but Es didn’t seem to notice. They just kept standing in the middle of the kitchen. It was 3am. They were barefoot, wearing one of Fuuta’s old pairs of pajamas. They stared at the countertop intently. They hadn’t even turned on the lights. Fuuta waved his phone flashlight around, trying to see what they were up to. It didn’t look like anything had been touched.
He took a step closer. His nerves were already on edge, coming into the kitchen to steal a late night snack and finding them standing ominously in the darkness. The little bit of light from his phone reflected in their icy gray eyes. 
“Oi, Es…?”
Sleepwalking. That had to be it. Fuuta rolled his eyes, breathing a small sigh at the realization. The sound was somewhere between relief and annoyance. Es was an odd kid as it was. It had been strange getting used to them living in his house, and now he had to deal with freaky stuff like this…
Fuuta approached as quietly as possible, putting his phone down. He reached out his hand. He planned on guiding them back to bed in silence, but he must have been too harsh with his grip. 
Es gasped, the dull look in their eyes turning to shock.
Fuuta immediately leapt backwards, his startled curse turning to frantic apology.
“Y-you were sleepwalking, I was trying not to wake you up but…” he trailed off, seeing Es scan the kitchen and get their bearings. 
“It’s alright. I’m used to waking up in strange places, I suppose.”
Fuuta grimaced. ‘Odd kid’ was an understatement. 
They didn’t seem to notice. Their expression had darkened. “I… I was dreaming. I was back there, and,” their voice shook with sudden emotion. “And we were all…” their breath caught.
“Hey, don’t go and start cryin’ on me.” They didn’t sound like they were going to cry exactly, but he couldn’t be too careful. He wouldn’t know what to do. “You’re not some baby. All of that is over now.” 
Fuuta had meant it as encouragement; he knew how strong Es was. As strange as they may be, they were the toughest person Fuuta had ever met. Realizing that his words may have come out a bit harsh, he tried to speak softer. “Really, it’s all over. You can relax here.”
Es nodded, but stayed silent. The two stood in the dim glow of the flashlight.
Fuuta coughed. “Now, did you want something, or…?” He gestured to the fridge, then made his way around them. He dug around inside for a snack. 
“N-no. Thank you. I’ll be heading back to bed, then. I’m sorry to have frightened you.”
“I wasn’t scared.” Fuuta said quickly. He took out something, sniffed it, and shrugged. “And anyway, it was way less terrifying than when Haruka did it.”
“Haruka sleepwalked?”
“Yeah, and when you wake a normal person up from it, they’re supposed to go into fight or flight. None of us were itching to deal with Haruka’s fight response, you know?” Fuuta took a big bite. He turned to find Es with a miserable look on their face. Through the food, he mumbled, “what?”
“I… I didn’t know that. About Haruka.”
“Okay?”
“There’s so much I didn’t know about all of you.”
“You also didn’t know jack shit about yourself, so we can call it even.” Fuuta took another bite, assuming the conversation was over.
Es wasn’t as satisfied. “I mean it,” they said, their voice still strained. “I thought I knew you, but I’ve learned so much here. There was so much I didn’t know about you. I never knew what your family was actually like, or how well-kept your room is,” they gestured to him, “or that you hardly ever sleep normally.”
Fuuta couldn’t tell if it was a criticism or not. He clicked his tongue. “Well, I never knew that strawberry milk was your favorite, but you don’t see me getting misty-eyed about it.”
Es had opened their mouth to continue, but they blinked in surprise. “How did you know I liked it?”
“Because I like it, and you keep drinking everything in the house.” He rolled his eyes.“I bought twice as much last time I went out, and you still ended up stealing it all. There’s only one little carton left…”
Es’ face slowly softened. Then, a devilish smirk crossed their lips. “You know, I thought I heard that milk is good to drink before you go to sleep…”
“Eh? Oh, hell no! That’s mine.” He went back to the fridge, rummaging around to get it.
“Says who?”
“Says me. I’m older. And I liked it first.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. And I should get it because I’m younger.”
“Now that doesn’t make sense!” Fuuta retrieved the milk. He turned the carton over in his hand. A thought crossed his mind – one he would never speak aloud to anyone, ever. He recalled his sister helping him when he was too small to reach the milk. She used to heat it up for him before bed.
He lazily tossed it across the kitchen. “Not like I care. Here, be grateful.” 
Es scrambled to catch it. Once again, their expression turned emotional. “Fuuta…”
“It’s not a big deal, sheesh!” He picked his phone up from the counter, biting down on the snack he’d grabbed. “Like I said, all that is over. You just gotta be normal now. I know that’s hard for a weirdo like you –”
“Hey!”
“– but just try, okay?” He shoved Es’ shoulder as he walked. “C’mon. Pops doesn’t care when I’m up, anymore. But he’ll give a goody-two-shoes like you a lecture if he hears.”
“I’m not a goody-two-shoes.”
“Psh, you’re the worst I’ve ever seen!”
“There’s nothing wrong with being disciplined.”
“Drink your damn milk.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
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so-idialed-9 · 2 years
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Updated with pics of the clothes in the bag. Of note about 6.14.22 Holivia stunt photos:
Harry showed up with a change of clothes so he could take multiple stunt photos in one day without having to see her again.
But he also didn't hide that he was doing that,making the whole thing even less convincing.
He's chosen to stunt walk in front of graffiti that says MONEY MONEY. I believe that says it all really.
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Costume change - fan confirmed the bags are full of costumes clothes:
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X X also this re Playdium
I'm thinking what's the point of letting people see you're stunting in multiple outfits on the same day? Unless you want them to know it's all power lies corruption chaos/money money and not real?
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God I'm sick of this stunt.
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harry-styles-obsessed · 8 months
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Publicity stunt
This GIF IM SORRY WHAT?!!!! 😩😩😩😩 anyways moving on this story is based on the ‘one bed’ trope. Yes I’m obsessed. I hope you all enjoy!!
Synopsis: you and Harry are forced to be a publicity stunt. He is your boyfriend for one year. A signed contract. But one problem… you hate each other.
Harry styles x fem! reader
©️ please do not copy or translate my work.
The lights of the paparazzis blinded you and Harry, Harry’s head bowed as his arm was wrapped tightly around you giving the impression of a protective boyfriend protecting his girlfriend his slender fingers wrapped around your hip as you both walked towards the doors of the five star hotel. Fans were screaming, shoving pictures and cd’s towards him attempting to get his attention but all he wanted to do was relax… what a day it had been. He was chewing a piece of gum, curly hair messy but driving the girls and guys wild as usual. His other hand was holding his water bottle, his sunglasses and his car keys… yes he did in fact have pretty big hands.
Once inside of the hotel, away from the eyes of the public you pulled away from Harry not saying anything to him as you walked to your guys’ hotel room. Eventually once at the right room you slid the card in before pulling it out abruptly the green light flickering slightly letting you know it had been unlocked before you pushed the door open, not holding it open for the man as instead it slammed into his arm “thanks.” He spoke sarcastically, you would’ve said something even more sarcastic if it wasn’t for the issue that had now made itself apparent to you… one fucking bed. Great! Just your luck, right? “Are you serious? Harry didn’t you say you got two separate beds?” You asked Harry dropping his stuff onto the desk
“Yes. I did. But clearly they didn’t listen… it isn’t my fault.” He spoke and you glared at him “not your fault? Pfft.” You scoffed, Harry’s cold green eyes boring into you as he stared an annoyed unimpressed look on his face “and earlier you called me childish. Grow the fuck up y/n.” He spat out, your attention now on him, a steamy angry emotion in both of you as you glared into each others eyes “it’s. a. bed. If you’re so unhappy with it sleep on the floor.” He muttered annoyed before sitting down on the bed, the outside world was already dark, and harry was just about ready for bed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying and hated the fact that he just didn’t seem to care… he was truly a fucking asshole. Gods could your life get any worse? “People describe you as a gentleman… apparently you’re not. Because if you were you would’ve offered to sleep on the floor… cliche but if you did I might actually like you.” You spoke, yet didn’t even get a response from him. He just ignored you. Blatantly ignoring you. It pissed you off. Yet you watched as he soon grabbed a hold of a pillow neither of you would use before he stuffed a pillow in between the already laid out pillows- the one pillow standing up right creating an invisible equal line down the middle of the bed, “there… better princess.” He spoke sarcastically and you glared at him annoyed “you stick to your side. I stick to mine.” He spoke and you just nodded your head, before hurrying into the bathroom with your pyjamas, Harry getting changed himself before the both of you decided to wind down for the night.
Harry’s back was facing you, your back facing him too, the pillow being a lot of help actually yet you couldn’t get comfortable whatsoever. It was as if something was bugging you… and you forced yourself to believe it was him that was bugging you. But in reality it was this whole entire situation… you liked harry… and hated the fact that you both had to go around hiding these stupid fucking lies. You had been fidgeting nonstop for a good hour and a half, Harry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall blankly… he was really biting his tongue. But that’s when your cold foot touched the back of his leg his body jumping
“Jesus Christ y/n! You’re freezing… stop fidgeting and go to sleep” he spoke, voice laced with tiredness the deepness making his voice crackle slightly. “Okay. ‘m sorry.” You muttered before rolling onto your stomach before attempting to sleep again, Harry’s eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softly, relaxing all until a minute later you were moving again- bed creaking, foot colliding with Harry’s ass “ow!” He rolled onto his back neck craned to look at you “will you stop? You’re certainly doing that on purpose.” He spoke, your brows furrowed in discomfort “I’m sorry… I can’t sleep… can’t get comfortable. I miss my home… my own bed…” you murmured Harry’s eyes opening slightly wider as he listened to you “well… you’ll be able to go home sooner once you fall asleep.” He spoke before attempting to roll back over and sleep only to be grabbed by your gentle hand eyes full of sadness and worry
“Harry…” you whispered “y/n.” He spoke in the same tone “hold me.” Those words practically stumped Harry, as he froze, blinking- utterly baffled. Did he just hear you right. “What?” “Hold me Harry. Please… I- I can’t sleep unless close to someone… or something…” usually you had your back pressed against the wall but there was no wall either of the sides of the bed. All apart from Harry. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling quietly before shaking his head “fine.” He rolled over to face you, you rolling over again so your back was facing him before you backed up into his warm embrace- back pressing against his chest, his arms lightly wrapping around your waist hands closed into fists to make sure to not touch you without you wanting him to, your body soon relaxing as you closed your eyes, Harry relaxing too as slowly but surely the both of you fell into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.
Hours passed before eventually it was morning again, 6am to be precise. You would’ve slept in longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry’s fans were screaming his name… one side yelling ‘Harry’ another yelling ‘styles’ it was continuous. Annoying. Frustrating.
Your eyes fluttered open confused, a soft groan leaving your lips, yet that soon became the least of your worries as you soon realised you were not facing a wall anymore… but rather Harry himself… your chest pressed against his, face inches from his, your eyes widening slightly in shock…. You must’ve really gotten comfortable last night… Jesus. You stared shocked but didn’t attempt to move as you soon instead found yourself admiring him… his lips… his nose…. The way his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks… his hair sprawled out onto the pillow lips slightly pouted, arms still wrapped around you tightly and securely. His defined jawline and cheekbones making your stomach flutter. So much so you carefully reached your arm behind you grabbing your phone as you quickly but efficiently took a picture of him asleep, immediately posting it to Instagram keeping your eyes on him but also your phone to make sure he didn’t see you doing such a… romantic? Thing.
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A sudden “you know it’s rude to stare,” making you jump a small lazy smirk on Harry’s lips as he stared at you. You quickly turned your phone off dropping it by your side as you stared at him “sorry..” you smiled softly staring at him the feeling you had towards him was now of fondness rather than resentment. “Want to hear a joke?” He asked softly voice lazy and amused and you hummed watching as he smirked “right… okay.. what do you call a dinosaur who constantly kicks you up the bum?” You shook your head not knowing “a megasoreass…” your lips immediately upturned into a smile as you laughed “that’s so fucking stupid Harry.” You giggled out “okay okay I’ve got one…. What do you call someone who crosses the road to find a chicken?” Harry stared confused “uh I don’t know.” “Harry styles.” You spoke, Harry’s eyes narrowing as he glared at you playfully “well who’s the one who likes chicken here? I only eat fish… soo… I guess it’s really y/n y/l/n hm” he smirked at you your smile remaining yet both your faces began to relax as he began leaning in, you moving closer to him as well before the inevitable happened…
Your lips met with his, the pillow that once kept you both from being close to each other now was a place for both your heads to rest, Harry’s hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your cheek bone as he kissed you deeply but passionately, eyes fluttered shut, growing more heated, his free hand sliding down your waist and your hands grasping onto his shoulders tightly hands soon curling into his hair, tugging slightly before eventually you were both forced to pull away…. Breathing heavily… looking into each others eyes as Harry stared at you
“Shit.” He murmured
“Shit.” You repeated after him studying his eyes silently… there’s no going back now, right? “Fuck it.” You whispered, lips colliding with his again as you kissed him passionately, the kisses messy and sloppy as his hands travelled down your waist, until eventually you were pulled on-top of him the filthy make out session continuing… and well….
The rest is history.
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cchocolatekat · 1 year
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ty to @swimmingferret‘s fic Iron and Ice for showing me the absolute potential that is douma being a single father of two
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rkn001 · 9 months
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proceeds to beat everyone up on artfight
the following is a list of all of the ocs and their owners in the respective order of the pics above:
kirin master for riley (@nijimarii)
taiga woman for cris (@tinyreploid)
glitchy for twilight (@twilight-dawn)
mail man for reddy (@rederick-ignis)
gold man and rodeo man for korn (@zeibei)
stunt man for @wonderful-magician
moon woman for willow (@willows-rambles)
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phoenixtakaramono · 6 months
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THE SEVEN WEDDING SPECIAL
“The Vought family grows by one as our distinguished captain, The Homelander, ties the knot with reformed supervillain William Butcher! Tune into VNN+ and Vought Entertainment for the most anticipated A-list superhero wedding of the century! Join us as we set the stage for the extravaganza and wish them a hopeful happily ever after.”
TY for 800+ followers on Twitter! I'd think it'd be neat if Homelander and Butcher kiss and have a Superhero Wedding Ceremony Special atop Vought Tower's helipad 🕊
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mirohtron · 8 months
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the villain jumped at the sound of a twig snapping.
and then, immediately, felt faint. they pressed their palm to the bleeding wound on their side and tried to pay no mind to the white-hot pain, instead focusing on where the sound had come--from the bushes of this park, long forgotten by the city, along with this little neighbourhood. they peered, blinked hazily. light played from a dim little lamppost onto a figure, a pair of eyes peering back.
oh, how close the villain was to home. and yet, look at how close danger was to them. they drew their knife from their boot with a shaking, blood-slicked hand. they willed their voice not to shake as the lamppost flickered. "out," they called. "now."
from the bushes came a soft gasp, and then rustling. it wouldn't be smart to throw their knife at whoever was there and hope it landed on the target. the villain found themselves considering that option either way.
this park was unkempt, uncared for, the grass going up to their knees. this was where teenagers came to smoke or have unhygienic trysts. the trees, old and heavy with their branches and planted too close, formed canopies. benches lay half-covered in weeds and moss. the lampposts were dim, flickering, with weak bulbs and creaky poles. this was not the best place to fight, especially considering their state. going to the blocks would be much safer.
the villain forced themselves to step away from the rusty lamppost they'd been leaning on and winced when it creaked. they kept their eyes trained on the bushes. they stepped backwards and closer to the gates, knife before them. they ignored every terrible ache in their body, gritted their teeth.
they heard a pained groan. tilted their head to the side.
out, with impossible speed, came something red. the villain could barely comprehend it before a human-shaped weight partially slammed them against one of the stone pillars lining the metal fence, and their shoulder went white with bruising pain when corded muscle hit one of the anti-climb metal spikes. oh, this was so uncomfortable. the corner of the pillar dug into their muscle.
suddenly their entire skin stung, and the villain's body contracted and jumped at a spike of electricity. their vision was hazy, and then quickly the weight shifted, and an annoyingly high nasal voice screeched in their ear.
"oh my god! oh my god, shit, i'm so sorry, i--"
the villain groaned, starting to slide down, but hands caught them by their sides and forced them to lean against the pillar. they blinked spots out of their vision, and a pair of worried, flickering amber-yellow eyes came into their view, along with a nose, slightly bruised, taped with white medical tape.
ah. that explained the terrible voice.
"i'm so sorry," said the person who had slammed them into a fence at light speed. the villain could barely think, barely manage another groan. "holy shit, you're bleeding. i mean, i knew you were bleeding, but not so much--"
no shit, sherlock, the villain wanted to say. but they were stung with another bout of electricity. the speedster yelped and let go, allowing the villain to sink into the knee-high grass. they kneeled and pushed grass away from the villain's body. where did their knife go?
amber-yellow electricity flickered around the speedster's body. the villain glanced up and now saw brown eyes, the amber gone.
"you..." they said, and wanted to hiss it, but ended up sounding just croaky.
"i'm sorry, i don't know how to control it yet," the speedster said, speaking swiftly. but it was unnatural; they enunciated each word properly, but their tongue seemed to move unnaturally fast, like a sped up recording. "i don't know anyone who can help me except you, i mean, you have powers too, right?"
no. the villain merely faked that with tech. but they nodded either way, because they didn't trust themselves to have the mind to omit vital information should they explain that right now.
"so you're not here to kill me," they said in a croaky voice. nonetheless, it sounded pretty all right.
"no! no, i just--i don't trust those heroes."
the villain laughed at that, and then hissed when it sent pain to their side. "good kiddo."
the speedster hovered their hands over the villain's wound, awkward, unsure of what to do, but still eager to help. "i'm not a kid." the speedster said.
"think you'll shock me again?" the villain asked, ignoring the speedster.
"n-no? it only happens when i'm nervous."
"do i make you nervous?"
the speedster frowned. "i dunno, do you like getting electrocuted?"
that almost made the villain laugh again, but instead they just settled for a grin. they held out their bloody hand. "get me up."
the speedster pulled their arm around their neck. "ew," they complained, queasy about the sticky blood. but they lifted the villain up and apologised when the villain groaned and led them out of the park.
"tell me about your powers," the villain said, so that they'd have a distraction from their pain.
relief spread over the speedster's face, like they'd been eager to share their story. "oh, it was a mess how i got it. i, like, visited the rich part of the city for a university interview. i got lost, and, like, i had money. i thought i'd get something to ease up, you know?"
the villain chuckled and bit down on the pain that bloomed from it. the speedster huffed but righted their body and went on. their voice fluctuated between nasal and normal, like they were putting care to incorporate their stomach into their breathing.
"so i walked into this shady place. fuck, dude, it was this horribly surveillanced lab. i touched something i shouldn't have—i didn't even need weed to be that stupid!—and spilled some chemicals i didn't know about. it was raining that day too, and, like, it blew out the electricity. i stumbled into something, turned something on. i got shocked so hard that i should've died, but i woke up surrounded by these scary, suited-up people. and i got scared, and i started, like, vibrating and electrocuting these guys. i saw a window to escape, so i ran. i ran back home. slammed into a couple walls on the way." they pointed to their broken, bandaged nose. "i don't know how to control this."
for the first time, the villain peered more closely into their face and saw how badly their nose had been taken care of. there was too much stuffing in one nostril, too little in the other. it was not going to heal in a straight line. "i can tell."
the speedster moved their face back, and the villain's knees gave out at yet another electrical shock, pulling the speedster down with them. they gasped.
"i'm so sorry!"
"s'fine." the villain gasped. "you got a medkit at your place?"
"uh-huh."
"take me there."
the speedster blinked. "are you sure?"
"yes."
"aren't you scared i'll hurt you?"
"scared you'll do it on accident."
the speedster frowned, but they lugged the villain on.
their place was small, the paint slightly cracked. outside, their complex appeared run down, the balconies rusted and old, graffiti at the entrance and more on the walls which bordered the complex. but the speedster had made their apartment look as cozy as possible, with warm lights and little trinkets and large posters of bands and movies and television shows plastered to the wall.
"it's not much," the speedster said as they came out of the bathroom, medkit and damp towel in hand. they handed the towl to the villain, who cleaned off the blood from their face and hands.
"it's cute," said the villain. the speedster's twin-sized bed, on which the villain sat, was beside the window that led to one of the balconies, slide up to allow cold night air in. not all buildings in this part of the city had balconies, and for the ones that did, they were too old to safely stand on. the villain noted that the speedster's balcony was tipped slightly downwards.
the speedster placed the medkit down beside their desk, and the villain pulled it towards their body, opening it and pulling out the hydrogen peroxide. the villain eyed their torn suit and their wound and sighed and pulled the top off, neck first so it wouldn't stretch unnecessarily.
electricity flickered, and the villain looked up to see the speedster decidedly not looking at them, standing awkwardly. they smiled. "i don't make you nervous, you said?"
"didn't say shit."
the villain directed their smile to the bottle and pulled out the cotton, wetting it. they hissed as they dabbed at the wound. the speedster shifted on their feet. "how long since you've had these powers?"
"...three days."
"hm."
"what?"
the villain took out the gauze and bandage with one hand and made a come hither motion with the other. the speedster bent to their level, and the villain ripped off their bandage.
"ah!" the speedster yelped, jumping back in a flash of electricity, covering their nose. they glared up at the villain, eyes amber-yellow, electricity in their pupils. "what the hell, man!"
"look at your nose," the villain murmured. "it's getting better already." that bruising from earlier was completely gone.
the speedster blinked, removing the cotton from their nostrils, half-bloody. they breathed in through their nose. "holy shit."
the villain raised their eyebrows. "super healing. electricity. super speed." they leaned back on an arm, tilting their head. "aren't you something."
the speedster pinched their nose. "it only aches."
"come here."
at that the speedster's attention came to them again. they stood straight, eyes accusing. "don't do something like that again."
"it's nothing like that." the villain gestured towards them with the gauze and bandage. "dress my wound."
the speedster blinked once more, but they came to the villain's side and kneeled, happy to help, and obediently dressed the wound.
the villain looked down at them with dark eyes, legs spread. "how eager you are," they murmured, "to get between my thighs."
the speedster made a flustered noise and flashed with electricity, prepared to run back, but this time the villain was fast enough to yank them onto bed. the speedster yelped, cheeks red. the villain came close. the speedster scooted back.
"uhm," the speedster said, wide-eyed. their hair was floating up now, static electricity buzzing around their body. the villain felt the hair on their arms rise, but they pushed forward regardless. "aren't you worried i'll, like, shock you?"
"aren't you worried," the villain murmured, and placed a hand on their heaving chest, "that i'll do bad things to you? i'm a villain, after all."
the speedster made a funny noise. "like--" they cleared their throat. "like what?"
the villain leaned in, breath brushing delicately against the shell of their ear. "like this," they whispered, and shoved the speedster out onto the balcony.
the speedster yelped, and then sat up, looking at them in shock.
the balcony creaked on rusted hinges. the villain yanked the window down just as the speedster moved to climb back inside.
they stared at the villain in hopeless dread.
the balcony gave. the speedster plunged. and then the balcony underneath their's fell under their weight, and so on and so forth, a horrible cacophony of rusted, creaking metal giving way over and over again, the result of the city's municipality forgetting this run-down neighbourhood.
when there was no more sound the villain opened the window and peered down to look at the speedster lying in bloody metal. they groaned like a wounded animal.
in the low light of the streetlights the villain watched the speedster's body heal, the bones mending, the skin stitching itself.
delicately, they perched their chin over their palm. "i'll help," they said. "but i'll help as bad guys do. and if i ask for favours, consider it a chance to pay off this debt." they checked their nails idly, and picked at the grime underneath. god, this new development was making them feel better already.
the speedster wailed.
"don't worry, darling!" they called. "i'll fashion a nice suit for you as a gift." wound and aching body forgotten, they fished out one of the speedster's clothes and tugged it on, and headed down to help their new...sidekick? apprentice? whatever the speedster had just become to them, the villain was glad they were their problem to handle.
this was going to be one hell of a ride.
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