#writez

Hello everyone, i have a new fic. It is a continuation of a previous fic. I've had it in my drafts for a while, but never really tidied it up and posted it. But now I have, so you can read it.

Kyojuro." It's the first time Kyojuro hears something resembling so much to concern in Akaza's voice. "Are you poisoned?"

Slowing his breaths, Kyojuro wills himself to hold the coughs in his chest.

It makes so much sense now—his crankiness, the jitters in his limbs, the way he gets so light-headed with each step. Shinobi told him bad mood and fatigue would occur at times with his new condition, so he hadn't been able to tell.

"I..." he exhales carefully, interrupted when he coughs more specks of blood to the grass, forming dew on its leaves. "I didn't realize."

It could be the poison taking effect, but, there's something frantic behind Akaza's inhuman eyes. With his reflexes slowed down by a significant margin, the next thing Kyojuro knows he's up on the demon's back.

"Where's the nearest Wisteria House?"

Beyond puzzled, Kyojuro's brows knit together. "What?"

"Point me to the direction of the nearest Wisteria House," Akaza repeats, an order this time. "If you don't want to die."

meanwhile on the other end of paradox space, Jake English, who is close to some form of Ultimate awareness himself, can hear Dirk just fucking hamming it up over the narrative intercom. giving long elaborate descriptors to his belches. talking about the rumble of his belly. it's all very assuredly ironic, and not at all alluding to any real feelings on the matter. (Jake has watched this man eat a entire alchemized pizza and then a second one while complaining the whole time. Jake never asked him to do this. He also openly admitted to wanting to make a third one. Jake is almost certain this man is not ironic.) Jake is this close to yelling over the narrative line in horny frustration.

uh. anyway, just thought you should know. that's what the askbox is for, right? : 3

anon PLEASe im only human... okay this is unequivocally awesome and i love this. hh. i think itd be really funny if he talked like a twitch streamer. "Hey chat how we doin tonight". idk if i like the idea better with or without jake being able to hear the actual burps or if hes just getting edged with descriptions but i think playing with either idea has a lot of potential

i was gonna make this a post. But then i wrote way too much. Whoopsies (；′⌒`)

YANDERE GENERAL HEADACANONS || DAY 02

Tags : Tomura Shigaraki x reader , Keigo Takami x reader , headcanons , GN!reader TW YANDERE , tw manipulation , tw stalking , tw monopolising , NFSW

Rating : 16+ , UNDER WILL BE BLOCKED

WC : 0.8k

A/N ; tell me if u need an tw for anything else !! Also ik its villainevember but keigo luviee :((( AND MY ASS REALLY NEEDS TO CATCH UP WITH THE REST OF THE DAYS LMAO I SHOULD’VE STARTED EARLY , + I NEED TO MAKE AN NEW NAVI HNBGVFC Also i got an hq side blog !! It’s @haikyupedia , I’ll post a fic tomorrow or today

[ PANTY SHOTS ]

Tags : YANDERE!! NFSW , implied manipulation , 13+ , suggestive , oneshot , GN!reader a/n : thankkk youu💞 suprised you didn’t request Oikawa tho. Tags : @chxcolxtemilk @mlfweeb @nekcmaz

Prompt : “if you don’t take off your clothes , I’ll take them off for you”

Summary : Tomura needs new photos to jerk off to , won’t you be a sweetheart and pose for the camera?

HOT THINGS TOMURA & KAI DOES

Tags : headcanons , GN!reader , AFAB reader , 9 headcanons , btw this is NOT proofread or edited so there’s a lot of spelling mistakes bare with me, NFSW!! UNDER 16 YRS OLD DNI! Fingering , @chxcolxtemilk , @mlfweeb , credits to @0ik6lut for the inspoooo lolzzzz ily from your housewife kithhhh babbyyyyyy

Characters : Tomura Shigaraki , Kai chisaki

a/n ; pls I’m so tired bare with this shitty writing

your mothers button nose,

Daddies thick hair, the freckles that dot your checks. The unique shape of your ears that curve in such a way.

And in conjunction with these we have family traditions, like ham on easter, driving up north every summer,

A kiss on the forehead when you say goodnight.

As we grow we make the decision to either keep alive family traditions, or we make our own way, stumbling forward re-writing the story bit by bit, Some things we will keep consciously or not, following the footsteps of those before us

like a good night's kiss you’ll tenderly keep but also realizing you never really liked ham that much, so perhaps you'll serve turkey instead.

But some family heirlooms passed down cannot be escaped,

Like sounding like your father when your temper is lost on a broken plate,

Feeling like your lightweight mother when you finish your beer.

But where does one go when genetics and family tradition has both gifted you hereditary suicide?

It was the way of your father and the father before him, leaving a void in family scrapbooks, and being an elephant suffocating the room in every family gathering.

It's like the christmas gift of fuzzy slippers that aren’t even your size but they haunt you by sitting at the bottom your closet, you know you don’t want to wear them but no one give you the receipt

How do you build a legacy on a family that never gave you solid ground, it feels like you’re standing upon quicksand, there is no hero to hold on to, no standard. No role model of the loving family man

Instead The patriarch left his family decapitated as he earnestly kept the tradition alive by repeating what his father did before him.

And I have this grand epiphany that i cannot make the man proud by accomplishing his goals when his greatest goal in life was to lose his

So, when I have come to the fork in the road, glaring at me, asking if I will choose life or death.

The greater black or simplier white,

it simply not enough that I choose to kill such a tradition, I must take pride in making the choices i know he never did

I repeat it again and again

I repeat it when I visit my psychiatrist, her shopping list of temporary fixes and some stability that I can find in a bottle, we cross off another from the list. I take it home in a tiny orange jar pretending each pill is a small piece of hope as i swallow it down nightly reminding myself with each sip water to wash it down

“I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when it seems impossible to leave my bed, almost if my pain has me eternally bound but instead i get up and start the car to meet a

friend over coffee, knowing it would have been easier to borrow away, to be the shut in,never let anyone know how i am suffering, but rather instead i chose to laugh with a friend

“I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when I choose another self-help book from the shelf at the bookstore, and I try not to feel weirdly embarrassed when the shop clerk bags it.

I wonder if they notice the dark circles under my eyes and feel worried for me, a just wayford stranger.

“I’m making the choices you never did”

And i repeat it over and over when i just want to be sedated by something, a temporary fix, something to lean against like a crutch, something to put me to sleep like a sick lullaby

But with all my willpower I have left, the wine bottle stays in its place upon the top of my fridge.

I nearly scream “I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when the tears will not stop, as if the floodgates where destroyed,

And I cannot convince myself of any good, and at the moment I believe the sun will not come up tomorrow, I am powerless and I'm at my wits end.

And I truly began to understand why you sought the meets to an end that was final, for a moment I felt empathy for you but instead, I put my weapon against myself down. And in what feels like a violent scream but was rather a groggy whisper for help I call that famous hotline, and woman with a soothing mature voice reminds me on the other end of the line ““you’re making the choices he never did”

I repeat it when i walk through the doors of the emergency room,

Feeling a tinge of guilt that my emergency wasn't one of a physical sense like the others in the room but rather of deep emotional turmoil from a brain wired differently that passed down to me. I don’t even feel the needles pierce my skin as they fit me for an iv,

And they ask me to strip off my clothes and become naked in the cold sterile room. I think about how it parallels how vulnerable I feel. A team of nurses and doctors who cycle in and out my room ironcily are there to keep me from my greatest threat,

Me.

just like you where you own greatest emieny, and when they draw another vile blood from my sore arms I clench my eyes shut and whisper

“I’m making the choices you never did”

And

Someday I'll repeat it like a pledge, oath. a sincere promise.

When i have a child of my very own and their tiny hand presses against mine, I’ll make sure with every ounce of my being that they will never know the pain of having a parent didn't want them,

They'll never know the knife in their back of betrayal of abandonment

I’ll refuse to be a coward, I won't run away from the responsibility of parenthood instead dive head first into it with the decision to make the choices you never did.

So, when it comes to family tradition I don’t just rewrite the book, I have decided to close it.

It ends with me, I won't just never follow your footsteps, I will make my own in the opposite direction. The apple didn’t just fall far from the tree, it never even grew there

And maybe i cropped off the block and perhaps we are cut from the same cloth but i am sowing

myself into something new, I am becoming something unrecognizable from your blueprint.

I am choosing the value of true autonomy cutting these family ties.

I am evolving, I am in every way changing. Transforming.

And this mantra that I scream in my soul, it's simply not just enough to never make the choices you did i am making the choices you did not”

And in a radical moment of true self love and utter defiance of those who came before me.

I am making the choice you simply could not

yes thats the the dir.kster between his thighs, they're having guy-time together.

cleaner (less sweaty/slobby) alt under the cut