#MAN THIS WAS A GOOD PROMPT YUM

[shadybiotics]

How abt the 3 omnics again(Zen,Max and Ram), with a s/o that when they were away for like idk business for some hours and said s/o sends them a picture of themselves in lingeri but won't answer after that on any of the omnics texts? 🙇‍♀️

(All seperate)

Zenyatta, Maximilien & Ramattra x Reader [NSFW]

Prompt: You send a pic of yourself in lingerie while away and don't pick up your phone afterwards.

▸ z e n y a t t a

He would most likely open the message on the way back from the grocery store, bags in hand full of ingredients he would later use to cook you a welcome back meal. He swiped his phone open and with the instant shock of an unsuspecting nude -almost making him drop his bags- so came an instant boner.

Nervous that someone might notice, Zenyatta would run to a nearby public restroom and lock himself in one of the stalls to deal with his 'problem', all while trying desperately to call you back again and again, almost dropping his phone in the process.

One hand on his phone and the other in his pants, trying to stifle his whimpery moans. When calling you didnt work he turned to messy texting, spamming you with repeating "please answer" messages that never saw a response.

Maybe you couldn't talk at the moment, maybe you were busy he thought to himself, trying to hold onto hope of you answering very soon and giving him the satisfaction of hearing your voice.

During the desperate attempts at getting your attention Zenyatta continued rubbing his dick, his strokes becoming faster and faster as his impatience grew. His hips began shakily bucking into his hand, imagining that that was you riding him. The omnic was so close to climaxing but he didn't want to do it without you. He needed to hold you, to feel you or at least hear your voice but you were denying him both.

Defeated, realizing you weren't going to answer, Zenyatta clumsily shoved the phone in his pocket. His now free hand latched onto his member, circling his leaking tip with a robotic thumb while the other kept stroking harder now. His moans getting higher in pitch and breathier. Whoever sat in the stall next to his surely heard.

▸m a x i m i l i e n

Maximilien would attempt to call you non stop. He doesn't mind you having fun with other humans if that was the case. He views them more as additional sex accessories, or toys rather, for your personal pleasure which he of course doesn't have the heart to deny you but at that moment he needed you all to himself. He couldn't stand the idea of you looking this good and not be in his arms. Already, Max was imagining the sight of his hands between the lacy fabric and your skin, the feeling of your body on top of his, you grinding into him, the sound of the fabric tearing as he rips your lingerie apart while pounding into you. His mind was running stray with fantasies he couldn't control.

He had to remain collected about this, he didn't want you to think of him as some desperate, dirty old man. Maximilien composed himself and with a shaky hand texted you back "Let's talk when you get home" and with that he finally put his phone away, telling himself he wouldnt message you again until you answered him first but the omnic had a strong feeling that wasn't going to happen.

Feeling the nerves getting the best of him Max quickly took out a bottle of wine from a nearby cabinet together with a glass and poured himself one before slumping down in his chair. He sighed rubbing his temples.

▸ r a m a t t r a

He knows what you're doing. He isn't stupid. You sent him a flirty little picture and suddenly you stop answering? No texts? No callbacks? Tsk. You were very clearly and purposefully teasing the omnic, probably hoping for a reaction he thought to himself.

It was working on him though, however much he was trying to fight it and not succumb to your little tricks he couldn't help but get horny. Ramattra wont do anything about the 'issue' at the moment, instead he tests his self control and let's the feeling boil inside him, the frustration and anger at the idea of your sleazy little attempt at trying to manipulate him emotionally together with the aching need to have his way with you in that exact lingerie.

He will be all pent up and moody for the rest of the day, almost as if a dark cloud loomed over his robotic head, waiting for you to come back. Once you do return not a single word is uttered from the omnic. Upon seeing you he immediately pounces on you and gets what he wants. Once the chance to finally rip your clothes off comes he is content seeing you're still wearing that exact set, almost as if you knew this was going to happen. His hands latch onto every inch of your body and by the end you will have learned your lesson.

#MAN THIS WAS A GOOD PROMPT YUM #thx anon!!♡♡♡ #anyway hope you enjoyed! #anon #request #prompt #zenyatta #maximilien #ramattra #reader #zenyatta x reader #maximilien x reader #ramattra x reader #nsft

[anniebass]

baby don't be mad

1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol

Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesn’t really need a name, it’s basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesn’t know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead don’t necessarily last until someone’s forties.

That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steve’s: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when they’re full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.

Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I don’t know! Uh, like maybe— Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?

So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.

Man, I don’t— I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I can’t get enough of, but that don’t mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.

Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddie’s your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I don’t know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be… Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, she’s hot. Or— yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, that’s actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, I’d love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

Alright, my turn. Best casual sex you’ve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didn’t have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very… teenaged, y’know. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex I’d be blown away, but it was just… okay. Actually—, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I don’t remember much of it. Or don’t want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunno—, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, or—, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.

It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.

So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.

Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this… slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, just— the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.

To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, don’t be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I just— remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and that’s always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.

Okay, he says.

Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know that’s what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those weren’t even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. It’s way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasn’t much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, we— we really loved each other, but we weren’t a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and it’s hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. We’re way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was just— me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.

There’s a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man… I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking… Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?

He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I don’t. I might romanticize it, the— the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I don’t want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, I— I guess I like Japan. It’s such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. We’d take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japan’s truly like no place you’ve ever been to.

I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.

Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just to— get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, it’d totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of the— fucking—, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.

Yes, please, says Steve.

#posting the roughs here bc I don't care enough to put it up on ao3 #if you've never read anything of mine don't start here bestie #I'm dead serious #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #act verse #steddie fic #old steddies #ficlets

[schlattsdoll]

Could you possibly do smut prompt #46. “leave the heels on.” with Jschlatt, please?

xoxo

head over heels - jschlatt x reader

minors dni

prompt:"leave the heels on."

pairing: jschlatt x fem/afab! reader

warnings: smut {18+}, oral { fem receiving}, p in v, degradation, unprotected sex {wrap it before you tap it!!!}, sex in front of a mirror yum

i haven’t written actual smut in so long omg i hope this is good

it's no secret that jay hated going out, but with you? he's singing a different tune. he loved to see how excited you got to get all dolled up for him, wanting to coordinate outfits. he couldn't help but smile when he saw how you lit up when he told you about a semiformal event for one of his companies. you rushed to find colors that complemented your skin tones, opting for a deep dark velvet green skater dress and a pair of black heels.

"my god doll, you look gorgeous". your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck as he zippered up your dress. "i would take you right now if ya'd let me."

you smirked at the taller man behind you in the mirror. “who said i would stop you big guy?” that was all the confirmation he needed before lifting you up and placing you on the bathroom counter. he was careful not to mess up your hair or makeup, that you worked so hard on.

he got a glimpse of the kelly green lingerie you had on under the dress. his hands went back to the zipper he had fixed for you mear moments ago and pulled it down. as you went to kick off your heels, jay stopped you, his eyes blown black with lust. “leave the heels on, sweetheart.”

schlatt dropped down to his knees, kissing his way up and down your plush thighs. “fuck doll, all this just for me? and you say i spoil you.” he teased your center as he toyed with the band of your lacey panties. snapping the band against your tummy, he pulled them to the side to get a peek at your glistening cunt. “s’pretty sweetheart.”

jay dove between your thighs, eating like a man starved for his last meal. his tongue lapping away at your wetness, spending special attention to your little button. the burn your thighs felt from his mutton chops were so delicious, your hands tangled in his hair. as you gripped tighter, he let out a groan of “fuuuckk doll.” before pulling away to catch his breath. replacing his tongue with his fingers, you whined quickly at the loss of contact before moaning out. his large digits stretching out your tight heat.

“oh, fuck, jay. i’m gonna cum!” you shouted out, your whole body tightening. “be a good lil dolly, cum for daddy baby.”

your legs went limp as his speed increased, occasionally kitten licking your clit. when he removed his fingers they were drenched in your essence, and he licked every drop up. “normally i’d make you return the favor, but i don’t wanna ruin that pretty face just yet.”

schlatt helped you off the counter, kissing you gently as to not ruin your lipstick, before flipping you over and pinning you against the sink. “fuck toots, these heels just make it easier to fuck you standin’ up.” he kissed your shoulder as he pulled out his throbbing cock, pumping it a few times before lining himself up with your slit.

he teased your clit with his tip causing you to whine out. “jayyy baby stop being a tease.” he tsked at you, “such a whiny needy little doll f’me. i’ll give you what you need, don’t worry.” he plunged his large member into you, groaning at the tightness. “that’s a good doll, so wet and tight jus’ for me.”

as he thrust into you, he made sure to get a few good smacks in on your ass. once he realized there was a huge mirror in front of you two he pulls your head up by your hair. “look at you, who’s little slut are you?” he smirked as your eyes rolled back, unable to form a sentence. “so dumb, all fucked out on my cock already.”

your cunt tightened at his words, and his ministrations on your clit. “f-fuck! yours, ‘m all yours daddy. please let me cum.” a dark chuckle escaped his lips. “i’ll think about it, im enjoying having my dumb little dolly so desperate under me.”

a particularly hard thrust had your legs shaking, almost causing you to fall over. “fuck jay! please!” “alright, cum for me sweetheart, cum all over this cock.” you felt his pace quicken as you flew over the edge, and his load spill out inside you.

“fuckin hell. thanks for that princess. i’ll be sure to ruin your makeup later.” he smiled wide as he pulled up his black pants and rebuttoned his matching green shirt.

helping you regain your footing, he slid the dress back on your body and zipped you up.

“can’t wait to do it all again later sweet cheeks.”

#jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt smut #jschlatt x reader #chuckle sandwich imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader

[smileysuh]

hazed

🌙 staring. Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. tensions have been high for a while, but an edible becomes the catalyst to a trio’d ascension to cloud 9, being a little hazy has never felt so good

cw/ tw. size kink, alcohol/weed consumption, man handling, dirty talk, switch!Mingyu, dom!Wonwoo, oral (f/m receiving), slight choking, face grinding, fingering, overstim, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k

🍭 aus. collage au, stoner au, best friends to lovers

☀️ mlist + an. weed is legal in Canada and that's all I'm gonna say about that 😂

Just as Mingyu’s starting to think ‘that edible was useless,’ the cookie he’d split with you and Wonwoo begins to take effect.

At first, it feels like warm hands running over his shoulders, prompting him to sink a little further into the couch. Then, the sufficiently stoned man notices the fuzzies dancing on the outskirts of his vision, and when he chases them - Netflix all but forgotten for a moment - the fuzzies become little light spirits that tip toe away, skittering and toying with him-

Smiling to himself, Mingyu turns to check on you and Wonwoo, eager to see if either of you are feeling it like he is-

You’re sitting between the two larger males, your head resting on Wonwoo’s shoulder while you discuss movie genres and scroll through Netflix.  

Mingyu loves sitting next to you. Loves the way his body dwarfs yours no matter what the situation- and he’s never more aware of it than when he’s high.

His eyes slide down your arms leisurely before landing on your thighs.

You’re in little sleeping shorts, and it’s times like these that he really appreciates them. 

Mingyu licks his lips, the haziness created by the weed is making him very narrow minded. He sees things he wants, and he wants them immediately- His eyes dart towards the kitchen - the munchies setting in - and he remembers the food available:

Oreos, birthday cake flavour because Wonwoo thought it would be funny.

Chips, Mingyu can’t remember if they’re out of Ruffles or not-

Beer. Yum.

Mingyu stands up abruptly, and it draws your attention, two sets of curious eyes moving to the lumbering giant.

“Beer,” Mingyu tells you, shuffling over to the kitchen with a one track mind and a body that teeters as it moves.

You and Wonwoo watch him for a few moments, simply assessing his state.

The weed is starting to hit you too, and ‘Wow,’ you think, as you drag your eyes up and down your friend’s form, ‘Mingyu is looking especially tall and thick today.’ 

He looks so good in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, shoulders broad and on display even whilst hidden under fabric.

Wonwoo notices the way you look at Mingyu, and he doesn’t mind.

Mingyu is gorgeous- and Wonwoo’s lived with his best friend long enough to know that most girls find the dude ‘irresistible’.

Mingyu is completely oblivious to his spectators as he leans down to look into the fridge, picking out a green bottle of lager.

He returns to the living room with more speed than his initial move to the fridge, and he turns to situate himself in the corner of the couch so he can look at you and Wonwoo; “Movies?” Mingyu asks.

You and Wonwoo give him a rundown on your choices, and as you watch Wonwoo speak, your eyes seem to focus in on his lips.

He’s so pretty, especially when he’s fresh from a shower like he is right now. He’s been allowing his hair to grow out lately, and there are little curly tufts here and there that make you want to reach out and tug on them- he looks like the perfect domestic arts major, despite the prestigious business degree he’s currently working on. 

You swallow thickly, realizing how thirsty you are.

Turning to look at Mingyu again, you gently take the beer bottle from him, smiling when he gives in immediately to the unspoken request. 

“You can finish it,” he says, as there’s only about a quarter of the bottle left- he must have been thirsty too.

You take your time while drinking, knowing that it would be really easy to spill this all over yourself-

Two pairs of eyes are on you.

Careful to finish up the bottle and get every last drop, you tilt it higher, tongue testing the rim for a second when you hit the glass to your teeth in your haze-

Both men are now pressed into their respective corners, with you in the center of the couch and the center of the attention.

Now finished your drink, you hand the bottle back to Mingyu, seeing the look on his face, and your skin flushes hot from the attention. 

“What?” you ask, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Mingyu watches the action and then his eyes lift to meet yours, expression suddenly very serious- 

“I’m hungry.”

It’s a very odd shift, but you’re so eager to get out of this newly claustrophobic situation, feeling very on the spot- “Do you want Oreos?” you ask while rising to your feet.

“Not Oreos,” Mingyu grabs you with two large hands that ensnare you by the waist to pull you back to the couch-

You’re shocked at first, landing against Mingyu’s broad chest, his warm body keeping you cradled nicely, and you blink while looking into his deep, pretty brown eyes. 

Then you think of his words, repeating them, “Not Oreos?”

Wonwoo chuckles from his corner of the couch, “Smooth.”

But his words barely register, because one of Mingyu’s hands is on your throat, thumb teasing under your jaw, holding you where he wants you while his lips press against yours.

The kiss is sloppy, and Mingyu is eager, teeth clashing against yours for a moment before he adjusts; your friend pulls you to be straddling his hips, and thats when he finds control.

You can sense the shift in the man under you when his hands prompt you to grind down on him, and even through the lip biting and little whines, your attention is drawn to the feeling of him between your legs- 

You pull away from the kiss, and Mingyu grins up at you from under lazy eye lids. 

“Wanna eat you,” he hums, lips attaching to your neck, tongue tasting the skin; teasing. 

You thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, turning your head to look at Wonwoo, who is frozen on his side of the couch. His eyes are alert and he winks at you, flashing a soft smile to match his friend’s that has you swallowing thickly.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask, words coming out more shaky and slurred than you intended; the weed has you seeing stars, and Mingyu’s lips on your neck aren't making thinking any easier. 

Wonwoo hums a sound of affirmation and you watch him get more comfortable in his seat, a deep sigh of contentment leaving his lips. It’s obvious he has nowhere to be and no plans to speed things up.

The business major seems happy with just watching… and you kind of love it.

You turn your attention down to Mingyu, who is still sucking on your collarbones with a fevered greediness. When you rut your hips against him, Mingyu groans, fingers digging into your hips before releasing again.

“Thought you wanted to eat,” you tease.

Mingyu adjusts you quickly for a stoner.

Somehow, he wraps you in one arm and manages to stand and throw you on the couch. He clammers down to his knees less than elegantly, but the way his eyes light up as he pushes your legs open and drags you to the side of the cushion makes up for it. 

“Off,” he says, eyes fixed on your core, which is hidden by the sleeping shorts he’s now toying with, tugging at the fabric. 

You lift your hips, and the shorts are torn from your body, leaving you in underwear and a hoodie. When you settle again, the first thing your friend does is push your legs open, swallowing thickly while taking in the panties sticking to your hot core.

“Mingyu-” you begin to close your legs, starting to feel embarrassed and a little unsure of yourself- 

Are you being hasty? Are you really about to fuck your best friend? Are you going to fuck both of them?

“I just-” Mingyu frowns and then brings both his hands up in front of his face, making something like a ripping gesture- 

“He needs help taking your panties off,” Wonwoo says with a laugh, he’s always been able to translate ‘Mingyu gestures’ into words.

You nearly melt; “Are you serious?”

“I don’t want to rip them, but they’re in my way,” Mingyu whines, pouting and pushing his face into your thigh. “Take them off.”

“Push them to the side,” Wonwoo suggests. “Unless you’re not that hungry.”

“I am,” Mingyu says immediately, glaring at Wonwoo. “Starving,” he draws out the word and nuzzles his face against your thigh, nipping at your skin.

“Prove it,” Wonwoo responds, “or maybe I’ll start to think I want it more.”

You groan at his words, hips shifting up, attention focused on the man between your legs “Mingyu- please-”

His big eyes look up at you, and he presses a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh, “do you like it when Wonwoo Hyung talks about wanting you too?” 

A sound of affirmation leaves your lips but you can’t find it within yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by Mingyu between your legs and his hair tickling your skin when he presses another kiss even closer to your heat- 

You take your hoodie off-

“Are we sure we should be doing this?” Wonwoo asks suddenly, and it makes both you and Mingyu look at him with confused expressions at the change of pace. “I mean,” Wonwoo shifts closer, looking you in the eyes, “we’ve both wanted you for a while, but I don’t want you doing this just because you’re high.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing your cheekbone, “I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow-”

“Wonwoo, shut up,” you can’t help but laugh a little at his words, “of course I want you both-”

“You do?” Mingyu nips at your thigh again and Wonwoo releases your face to allow you to look down at the man still kneeling on the carpet.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “Come on- you guys have to know how hot you are- and you’re two of the nicest guys I’ve ever met-”

“So why haven’t you fucked us yet?” Mingyu groans needily, hooking his hands under your thighs so he can drag you to the edge of the sofa, eyes looking up into your own. 

“Why haven’t you fucked me yet?” you ask- only to let out a squeal of surprise when Mingyu buries his face into your panty covered core like - well - a mad man. 

“I’ve been trying-” Mingyu mumbles, words vibrating into your wet heat and making your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“We’ve both been trying to broach this with you for a while,” Wonwoo admits, fingers trailing over your collarbone thoughtfully, “but every time I flirt with you, you brush it off.”

“Because you tease me!” you say in shock, realizing, for the first time, that when Wonwoo had said things like ‘someone is looking cute today’ he hadn’t been making a jab at you? 

“I don’t tease,” Wonwoo insists, even as his digit traces the swell of your breast, “you just never believe me when I compliment you.”

Mingyu is getting tired of the talking, and he puts his mouth to better use, pulling your panties to the side before diving into your core with his tongue. 

You immediately grab at Mingyu’s pretty curls, a gasp of ecstasy escaping you at the feeling of pillowy lips now suctioning at your clit-

“And Mingyu’s been acting the part of boyfriend for months,” Wonwoo says, looking down at where his best friend is lapping at your core and making enjoyable grunting noises as if he’s a starved animal finally having food after a long winter- “the piggy back rides, giving you his jacket-”

“He’s just-” your voice catches as Mingyu pushes a finger into your core, “he’s just nice like that-”

“Baby,” long, cold fingers encircle your throat, and Wonwoo prompts you to look him in the eye when he says, “nobody is just nice like that.” 

It’s the most you can do to let out a small needy sound before you’re removing one hand from Mingyu’s hair to thread it through Wonwoo’s instead, pulling his lips to your own. 

You’re shocked by the differences in the way each man has pressed his lips to yours- Wonwoo kisses you like a man who knows what he wants, a man savouring the moment, even as you let out whimpers of need-

“You’re really worked up, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles against your lips, and you nod, tugging at his hair again in an effort to drag him back to you. 

It feels amazing to have both of their mouths on you at once- and Wonwoo’s kisses become rougher the more needy you get, his body responding to your growing insatiability-

“Wonwoo-” you whimper when you feel your orgasm building, Mingyu’s mouth working lewdly and noisily at your clit-

“You gonna cum for us?” he asks. The hand encircling your neck pushes you back slightly so he can asses your face, and then your friend’s fingers release you, skimming down your chest and stomach- 

Mingyu presses his tongue into your hole, allowing Wonwoo room to play with your clit, and two digits begin rubbing wet circles there-

One of your hands stays in Mingyu’s hair, keeping his face where you want it, and the other latches onto the front of Wonwoo’s shirt. 

“Come on baby,” Wonwoo breathes, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck while he continues to work you closer and closer to the edge- “Mingyu wants a taste, he’s been thinking about it for months.”

The thought that your best friends have been lusting for you for months is the last bit of praise you need to be pushed into pleasure, and a gasp tumbles from your lips, chest arching while you grind down on Mingyu’s face, eager to ride this out-

“Fuck-” you gasp as business major next to you continues his assault on your throbbing clit, “Wonwoo-” your best friend slurps at your cunt and your thighs shake by his ears- “Mingyu!” 

The man between your legs groans loudly, fingers digging into your skin to keep you anchored while you’re worked through a mind blowing orgasm.

And when you’re done, Mingyu removes his mouth from your core with a loud pop of suction, groaning before diving back in with his tongue momentarily- 

“You taste like candy,” he tells you before finally pulling away from your entrance and standing- he looks down at you with blown pupils, and for a brief time, nobody does anything, the three of you simply exist, breathing and taking in the moment.

“We should go to the bedroom,” Wonwoo suggests finally, fingers finding your collarbone again and dancing across your skin, “unless you want to watch a movie.”

You’re shocked at how Wonwoo always stays so controlled- even while high, he’s an eloquent protector, the person who’s always making sure everyone’s needs are accounted for-

“Bedroom,” you respond, and the next thing you know, Mingyu is picking you up from the couch to take you there himself.

Oddly enough, the two of you end up in Wonwoo’s room, and you’re tossed onto familiar sheets, with the familiar smell of Wonwoo puffing up to greet you, and the familiar vibe of a comfortable place you’ve been in a hundred times before.

Mingyu collapses next to you, laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand. 

“You know the way you drank the rest of my beer?” he asks, while tracing the lines Wonwoo had been so enraptured by earlier, pointer grazing over your collarbone lightly-

“Yeah?”

“Can you drink me like that?” 

You’re up an straddling his waist within seconds, pressing kisses to his face while saying, “of course I can!” quickly beginning your decent-

“Fuck- is this real?” Mingyu asks, lifting his hips so he can wiggle out of his sweatpants while you pull his hoodie up-

“I think so- unless I’m the one dreaming,” you respond, enjoying each new sliver of skin revealed on the body that’s been tantalizing you for months- Mingyu works out, and you trace the lines of effort across his abdomen.

“We can’t both be dreaming,” Mingyu decides, grabbing a pillow to prop under his head so he can watch you as finally reach the area he needs you most-

“Do you two want me to take a picture as proof?” 

Wonwoo’s teasing makes your heart flip in your chest, and you look over your shoulder at him while playing with the waistband of Mingyu’s briefs. “Are you going to join us?” you ask.

“If you’ll let me,” the business major responds, one knee on the foot of the bed before he joins you on the mattress, taking the spot right behind you. His hands graze over your ass, toying with the fabric of your panties, which Mingyu hadn’t bothered to take off earlier. “What do you want me to do to you, pretty girl?”

“You know what I want,” you groan in frustration, turning to look back at your own task at hand: getting Mingyu’s painfully hard cock out of it’s confines. 

“I wanna hear you say it,” Wonwoo’s hands massage at your ass, and you let out a pleasurable sigh at the feeling, resting your head down against Mingyu’s abdomen to take a breath and recollect yourself.

“I want you to fuck me,” you say, and Mingyu shivers beneath you, from your words, or the feeling of them on his sensitive skin, you’re not sure. 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo hooks his fingers in your panties and drags them down your legs. Cool air washes over your heated core, and now it’s your turn to shiver- “Want me to fuck you here?” two of Wonwoo’s digits dip into your entrance and you let out a mewling sound, squeezing Mingyu’s cock through his briefs-

“Fuck-” Mingyu pushes his hips up, not enjoying the way you’re both being toyed with-

“Please-” you groan, wiggling your ass in an effort to tantalize the man behind you while unwrapping your own present-

With one motion, you pull Mingyu’s briefs down, and his long member all but slaps up against his lower abdomen. Your friend gasps at the cold air on his hot skin, and you’re quick to wrap your hand around his length, swirling your tongue around the head of his obnoxiously large cock-

“Shit-” you’re a little worried about Mingyu and the swear words that tumble past his lips while your own wrap around his girth, and the hand that grabs at the back of your head is needy, a little rough too-

“Don’t break her,” Wonwoo warns behind you when you gag around a dick that’s much too big for your small mouth, “you always forget your own strength, especially when you’re high.”

A memory of Mingyu accidentally breaking in the bathroom door at a party while high flashes through your mind, and you groan around his cock, turned on by how large and strong the man below you is-

“She just feels so good-” Mingyu moans, throwing his head back into the duvet while forcing his hips down- “baby, you feel so good-”

Another happy sound leaves you at the pet name, and more swear words escape Mingyu’s pretty lips- 

Wonwoo’s fingers are removed from your pussy, and you take Mingyu out of your mouth to protest- just as Wonwoo guides himself into your wet core.

Without Mingyu stuffed in your mouth, your moan at the new intrusion rings loud and clear, and you rest your head down against Mingyu’s thigh, closing your eyes as you enjoy the feeling of Wonwoo slowly pushing into you.

“Oh my god-” you gasp, toes curling from pleasure while you continue to pump Mingyu’s cock. 

“Feels good?” Wonwoo asks, two cool hands settling on your hips, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Feels so good-” you respond, kitten licking at Mingyu’s cock-

“Fuck-” Mingyu’s hips rut up, and you immediately rush to give him your attention again, placing him back in your mouth like your favourite lollypop, and suckling on him for all you’re worth-

“Holy shit-” he continues to cuss, and he thrashes a little under you, abdomen tensing when he sits up abruptly to tear his hoodie and shirt off, leaving him bare to the room. Mingyu’s skin is flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his large hands find the back of your head, prompting you to take him deeper into your throat again- 

“Gyu, if you’re going to cum, you have to ask permission to do it in her mouth,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue in a way that’s almost condescending- and you moan a little at his words, realizing - like he had - that Mingyu is achingly close to coming undone-

“God-” fingers tense in your hair, and Mingyu pulls you off his length, “can I cum in your mouth? Please?”

“Uh huh!” you respond with sounds of affirmation, too enraptured in the moment and in the feeling of being their needy little cock whore to even speak proper words- 

Instead, you wrap your mouth around Mingyu again, gripping the base of his length to pump what you can’t fit past your lips-

“Holy fuck-” Mingyu groans loudly, one hand grabbing at the sheets-

“Keep sucking baby,” fingers dig into your hips and Wonwoo’s words make your pussy throb around his cock, which continues to glide in and out of your wet heat, “I wanna see you giving him everything you have.”

There’s something about Wonwoo being the watcher, the one in control, that makes this whole drug fuelled sin scene feel much dirtier in the best of ways-

You can give up any thoughts or worries, can give in to the primal instinct that has you sucking on Mingyu like a life line while Wonwoo continues to rail you from the back- because Wonwoo has everything handled.

You’re not sure who cums first, you or Mingyu, but you pussy clamps onto Wonwoo with a vice grip at the same time your senses explode with a manly muskiness that courses down your throat. 

Fingers dig into your hips, and the sound of throaty moans and skin on skin carries you through the wonderful, lusty haze that comes with a stoned orgasm. 

You do your best to continue working Mingyu with your mouth until he’s gasping and whining, pulling you off his cock forcefully- 

Opening your eyes to look up at your friend, you get an amazing view of taught muscles and flushed skin-

Likewise, Mingyu is enthralled by the fucked out expression on your face, the saliva coated lips and the spit bridge connecting your mouth to the head of his cock, which is still aching with need-

Behind you, Wonwoo lets out a grunt, thrusts faltering, and it’s enough to clue Mingyu into the fact that his hyung has finished too. 

In the wake of pleasure, the three of you need a moment of recuperation, and in those quiet moments, where all that can be heard is heavy breathing, Mingyu feels most at peace. 

There’s no judgement, no complications, no worries about one position being more sexy than the other, or if someone has a few love handles- all that matters to Mingyu is the heat of his skin where you’re touching him, and the feeling of your breath as it stirs goosebumps to the surface of his thighs-

Mingyu swallows thickly, eyes trailing over your form while blood begins to rush down to his cock again- 

He’d gotten one thing checked off his bucket list: finding out what you taste like, and now, he’s eager to get another dream scenario completed: he wants to feel your velvety walls wrapped tight around his cock while he fucks you into Oblivion- 

And as he watches you and Wonwoo adjust, your own arm raising with pleasured goosebumps after the brush of Wonwoo’s fingers across your shoulder, Mingyu knows his night is just beginning…

✘ thanks for reading :) ✘ Please find the teaser for the accompanying patreon exclusive extension of this fic below :)  ✘  if you liked this fic, you might also enjoy ‘Hit’ with stoner!vernon

✘ [extension synopsis]: you wake up after a wonderful night with your two best friends- except one of them is feeling a little off, and you’re determined to show him you have space in your heart for more than just Mingyu

✘ [warnings]: oral (m receiving), dirty talk, pet names, exhibitionism, deep throating, mentions of somnophilia/threesomes, etc…

✘ [pairing]: Wonwoo x afab!reader ✘ [word count]: 1.5k - 250 words shown in teaser ✘ [genre]: 18+ smut

You’ve woken up in Wonwoo’s bed before, but never like this; never nude, and wrapped in a tight embrace, Mingyu’s small snores sounding in your ear with each sleepy breath he takes. 

Usually, when you pass out here after getting too drunk or high or just too tired to go home, you wake up to Wonwoo laying flat on his back on his designated side of the bed, but today, he’s not there. 

You frown at the loss of one of your friends, even as Mingyu adjusts behind you, nuzzling into the back of your neck-

You’ve spent the night here enough to know that Mingyu needs much more sleep than his elder roommate, and with the shock of waking up Wonwoo-less, there’s not a chance in the world that you’ll be drifting back to dreamland any time soon. 

The process of getting out of the bed without waking Mingyu is tedious, but you accomplish it after a few minutes of slow inching until you’re completely out of his grasp.

Once free, you find your clothes, which had been scattered around the night before, and you get dressed. Your eyes linger on Mingyu, who had now rolled onto his back, an annoyed expression on his sleeping face, hand grabbing at the sheets-

You feel a little bad that you’d left him, and he’s obviously missing you- even if it’s just his body reacting to the loss of your heat, but you’re determined to find Wonwoo. 

✘ To read the full 1.5k oneshot, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

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© smileysuh — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

#svt #Wonwoo #mingyu #Kim Mingyu #jeon Wonwoo #jeon Wonwoo smut #Kim Mingyu smut #mingyu smut #Wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

[mimisplayground]

Porn Star Dancing

yum yum yum also sry its not a gender neutral reader this time guys it was a request

Warnings: Stripper!Reader, Unsafe Sex (WRAP IT UP….), Probably really bad scottish slang 😭, kinda sub!soap for a minute there, Soap asks at the end if u would let Ghost hit, KINDA SOFT SEX NGL!!!

ill make it rough next time >:3

—————

MacTavish certainly wasnt a rich man by any means. Comfortable in life maybe, if he had better spending habits. But nowhere near a rich man.

But he doesn’t think anybody would know that he isnt a rich man from the way he stuffed a £100 into the band of your underwear when you crawled near him.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving a kiss on his jawline before making your way back to the pole in the middle of your platform. Spinning around and pulling yourself up, watching as the Sergeant stared at you intently.

You only knew he was a Captain from when he came with his friend. Large man with a skull mask covering his face.

(“Cmon MacTavish, what are the recruits gonna think seeing their Sergeant mesmerized by a broad on a pole?” He had teased, leaving you a bit peeved at being called a ‘broad’. “Dinnae really care, Lieutenant. She a bonnie lass, all I care about.” )

You felt a small blush reach your cheeks at the memory. It was one of the first times that ‘MacTavish’ had caught your eye. And the owner since then had scolded you plenty about openly giving lap dances to your favourite. How were you meant to resist though?

Just like now, as the song ended and you found yourself pressed into the Sergeants lap, kissing his cheek and giggling when you felt him press a kiss in the middle of your chest. “Driving me crazy lass,” he groaned out, hands gripped around your waist tightly “gonna make me lose my mind ain’t ya?” You grinded down onto him at the end of his question, listening to the way he groaned and threw his head back.

“Wanna take me home? I’ll show you a fun time if you do.” You purred out, hands tugging on the hair of his mohawk firmly, gasping when he picks you up as he stands. “Let’s get going to my place then, lass.”

Within 20 minutes you found yourself in a cozy apartment, clothes on the floor as you continued to grind on top of who you now knew to call John. He groaned something about how sweet a girl you were for treating him to an at home show.

And you had, when you took of your clothes slowly, teasing him with the idea of seeing anymore of your skin than he already had, which wasn’t leaving much left to reveal. He had pounced on you once your clothes were all off though.

And he made quick work of stretching you and sinking deep into your cunt. His thumb pressed tight against your clit and rubbing circles into it.

He knew what he was doing, that was obvious, leaving you twitching and practically screaming out for him. You knew he was feeling good too, listening to him groan about how tight your cunt was, which left you more than a little embarrassed to hear.

And when he begged to cum inside of you you couldn’t help but nod yes, babbling about how you were on the pill, don’t worry about it, ‘please Johnny” leaving your mouth barely coherently. His arms wrapped tight around your waist as he came.

You found your own release in a few more tight circles rubbed into your clit, twitching against him as you tugged his hair.

You both panted for a moment, and then you heard John start chuckling. You stare at him in confusion, and he clarifies once his little chuckling fit had finished that “you’re the hottest person I’ve ever heard call me Johnny. Good lass.”

You grumble in embarrassment and lean in to hug him and hide your face. You figure you might be kicked out any second now, you might as well cling to him as long as possible.

“Hey lass?” John prompts you, and you hum in response.

“How do ya feel about letting my friend Ghost have a turn with ya?”

—————-

HAHAHAHAHA LEFT U GUYS ON A CLIFFHANGER HHAAAAAAHHAAAAAAA

>:3

anyways i hope u all LOVED it bc i loved it, Sergeant MacTavish 🤩

#cod smut #requests open #send asks #fanfic #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #soap x you #soap smut #johnny mactavish #fem reader

[captainjamster]

Starry, Starry Night

Pairing(s): Kyle "Gaz" Garrick & Reader Warnings: mention and description of suicide, alcohol and medication abuse, reference to organ donation, retching, nausea, major character death Wordcount: 1.5k Summary: Kyle picks up your call. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: Please check out the tags before you read this one.

Full fic is under the cut <3

“Mmmh, hello?”

The words feel heavy on your uncoordinated tongue as the line picks up.

“Hello, my name is Kyle. What’s going on tonight?”

Your heart drops for a second, and something like guilt stirs in your inhibited rational. He sounds young, not like the older individuals who usually work the hotlines. Young, with years left to relive this conversation. You sluggishly pull the phone away, thumb hovering over the end button, but his voice trails out the small speaker again with more concern this time.

“Hello?”

Fuck it. Won’t be your problem soon.

You slur out your name for the man on the other end, and he repeats it back. “Alright, and are you under the influence of any substances right now?”

“Fuckin’ all of them,” you grin, trying to keep up with how the stars swirl into vortexes against their black canvas. “Tryna – tryin’ to get a fatal concoct – hehe, cock – uhh, concoction in me. Poison in my tummy, yum.”

The confused snort he lets out tugs at your lips, and you can’t help the giggle bubbling up from your chest. “All of them?” He echoes, and you hear the familiar click click click of keys.

“S’not all of ‘em, tricked you. Jus’ alcohol, my medication, and uh… some shit a friend left in my car. Like a bottle of spirits, an’ ‘bout a thousand ‘n four hundred milligrams? Dunno what the other shit was, tasted bad.”

There’s silence for a moment as you listen to the clacking of keys again.

“I’m going to ask something a bit bluntly, okay?”

You make an agreeable noise, waiting for the question.

“Is this a suicide attempt?”

“F’it’s just an attempt, I’m gonna be so fuckin’ mad,” you mutter, cringing at the aching pulsating through your body.

There’s a moment where you hear him murmur something, and then he’s back at the line. “Can you tell me where you are right now?”

Realisation flickers in you, prompting your eyes open. “Ahhhhh, s’why I called, yeah.” He types again rapidly as you mumble the location. “Guess someone’s gotta find me, right? Better a professional than some – some poor fuckin’ guy.”

The man – Kyle – hums in agreement. “That’s good of you. You sound like a thoughtful person, considering those things even during a time like this.”

“Yeah, thoughtful,” you scoff. You know what he’s doing. “Can we just… S’okay if we talk for a bit?”

That wasn’t the plan. It was meant to be enough to give the address and then hang up. But the chill is seeping further into you, past the now-dirty fabric you carelessly threw on, and hearing his voice makes you feel just a little bit warmer.

“I’m not going anywhere. Got a topic?” Kyle questions, and you think you can hear him settle into his chair.

“S’pretty tonight. Clear sky.” It’s hard to force your eyes to stay open, the sparkling dots spinning in and out of view behind the canvas of the trees.

“Yeah? A long trip up that road to get there.” He mulls, and your aching legs agree.

“Yep, even longer walk.”

“Walk?” He sounds incredulous, and it brings back that dopey grin to your lips.

“Yeah, well. Sold my car last week.”

“Ah…” It falls quiet for a moment. “I see.”

“Don’t be like that,” you groan, wincing at the nausea as you shift against the dirt. “Savin’ the planet or some shit, right?”

Kyle laughs again, and you think the noise could get you higher than anything else coursing through you right now. “I like your humour.”

The compliment sounds more genuine than the last one; appreciation, not just pointing at empty positives. “Consider yourself lucky to hear it, m’not usually this uh, happy.” You offer, tasting bitterness in the confession.

“What are you like usually?” The question is tentatively curious, and you’re sure he means no harm, but the words tear through you.

“Dunno.”

Crickets chirp as you listen to the static whispers of silence, flicking through blurred memories. You don’t know if it’s because your brain is slowly slipping further into deterioration, or if you never wanted to remember in the first place.

“Tired.”

Moments of happiness feel far and few, peppered so sparingly amongst everything you’ve ever struggled through. When they cut you open, will they find anything but your rotted, ugly thoughts and the circuits they’ve carved into your mind? You hope your brain is better off in the hands of whoever gets it next. Maybe you’ll get to be some cool science demonstration.

“Friend had a baby last month. Couldn’t even feel something with the little guy in my arms.”

He was so small, staring up at you with big eyes, his warm hand wrapped around your finger. A chorus of ah’s and aw’s sung around you as the baby beamed, wet and gummy, up at your watery smile. All you could feel was a cleaver digging deeper into your heart.

“Jus’ wondered if I looked so hopeful when I was that young. An’ if this’s where my life was always going to go anyway.”

Something carves a fleeting shadow above you, blinking the stars out of and back into existence with the wide span of its wings. You think what it’s like to feel so weightless, amongst the branches rustling as a breeze picks up.

“Guess I was just born wrong. Here to make people happy until it – until I – wear off.”

It’s so quiet you think Kyle has hung up, until something rustles and he clears his throat. “You remind me of someone.”

The remark catches you off-guard. “Good or bad?”

“Both. He’d make you mad in the funniest ways; couldn’t even be angry at him. But he hid behind it, tried to help himself by helping everyone else. Good guy.”

The fondness in his voice squeezes at your heart in a way that hurts more than anything else you’re feeling. Has anyone ever talked about you like that? “You sound like a thoughtful person, talkin’ ‘bout others so nice.”

He chuckles at the call-back, and you wonder what he looks like. Is he as pretty as his laugh?

“Y’sound so young.” The words slip out before you can stop them.

There’s a hesitant pause before Kyle answers. “Few years off thirty. I’m a veteran,” he sighs. “Retired.”

“Retired?” The word is slurred as you echo it back, but he understands anyway.

“Lost a mate in combat. Was uh… Was actually the someone I mentioned before. Messed me up for a couple of years.”

“M’so sorry.” The words are getting hard to articulate, but it feels important to say them.

“Don’t be. It lead to better things. Found this organisation, realised I could do this for a job. So here I am, I guess. Six months next week since I joined.”

“That’s really nice. I’m s – fuuck, shit – so happy for you, Kyle.”

There’s noise from the speaker. “You right?”

“Feel funny, s’like… Dunno, m’stomach is gonna tear apart.”

The conversational tone slips as worry peaks back into his voice. “Just keep holding on, okay? Maybe you can work here too; we’d be menaces in the office.”

You know he can hear the hollowness in your laugh. “Yeah, sure. That’d be good.”

The sky is trembling more than before when your eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment to realise it’s you shaking, not the world moving. How much longer? Was it always burning this much? You catch the last syllable of your name, pulling you back to the phone resting in the dirt next to your head.

“Mmh.. M’here. What… s’your friends name?”

“… Johnny. He liked being called that.”

You hum, feeling the word in your mouth. “Johnny. Johnny. I’ll say hi to him for you.”

“Not just yet, okay?” His answer is strained, tinging the encouragement he’s trying to convey.

You don’t respond, forcing your chest to expand and contract. Nothing wants to work; everything is heavy, uncoordinated, and you’ve never felt drowsier. But you’re pulled back to the cold night’s air again as he calls out your name again, louder.

“Huh? Sorry. Jus’… so fuckin’,” you stop, groaning as something sears in your chest, “tired.”

“No, no,” he stutters, hitting aggressively at the keyboard in those nice sounding clacks. “Help is so close, just stay awake for me, okay?”

He sounds so desperate. Emotions well up in a chaotic rush; where was this compassion when you needed it? Why didn’t you just hang up? Is he going to remember the sound of your voice by next week?

“Oh, Kyle. Waited after I took ‘em, ‘fore I called. M’sorry.” You catch inaudible curses as something jostles. “Think you’re… t’only reason m’awake.”

“That’s good, that’s good – we’re gonna keep talking, okay?”

You don’t remember how to form words properly anymore, and everything sounds a little funny, like it’s travelling through cotton. Air comes in ragged gasps; you can’t pull it into your lungs through the fire that blazes up your oesophagus, forcing you to retch. The sky doesn’t look familiar anymore through your lashes, but as everything grows fuzzier, you remember the voice next to you.

“Fuck, ugh – fuck, Kyle?”

As you tune back into the distorted noises, hearing him choke out your name, you realise he’s crying. It takes everything in you to lift your hand, as if you could wipe the tears away from here. “T-Thank you. I, really hope – ah, shit – we… hah, meet again next time.”

banners by cafekitsune

#cw: suicide #cw: drug abuse #cw: alcohol abuse #kyle x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader #jams writings #cod fanfic

[sweatforged]

silas. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • prompts.

pedro pascal, homosexual, male + he/him, fighter «—◦—→ well met, silas rivera! the godling born child of kratos. it’s been 45 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. can he change the course of history with their loyalty, protectiveness, + strong will? or will their stubbornness, callousness, short temper hinder them? only time will tell before this godling’s name is sung into myth and legend!

BASIC INFO

full name — Silas Rivera age — forty-five (december 7th) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — homosexual occupation — musician, us army, mma fighter + champion, musician hero ;) deity connection — kratos  class — fighter weapon — tba clothing style / armor — jeans + flannel & layers, so many layers / tba

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Pedro Pascal hair — brown / eyes — brown height — five foot & eleven inches build — kinda like a T, broad af shoulders, semi-muscled torso, slutty waist (it be thin ok), everything else is yum scars — a faint one across the bridge of his nose, cut underneath his left eye, many many small ones littered across his body tattoos — notes in the back of his neck (he was grounded forever for getting it) like so, wolf on the inside of his left arm like so, front right thigh like so piercings — ears special characteristics — generally quiet, comes off a little distracted sometimes, will snark without reason, some dare calling him grumpy sexual preference— sorry y'all, this boy's a bottom sub (he thinks he's a switch but he's really not(in bed anyway). don't tell him tho.)

PERSONALITY

alignment — chaotic good positive traits — protective, caring, strong-willed, loyal negative traits — short-tempered, stubborn, callous, grumpy hobbies — training, music, kendo/kenjutsu, cooking, enjoying the quiet

MEDICAL INFO

mental — ptsd physical — when he was younger, he got his shoulder dislocated and his older half-sister thought she could pop it back in. she didn’t and broke his shoulder. he couldn't work for months, nor could he use the bow for even longer, now he can’t lift his right arm as high as the left one still, but only few know phobias — claustrophobia, pisantrophia eyesight — 20/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — left hand drug use — nop alcohol use — no !! diet — healthy, balanced. always makes his own food so he knows what's in it.

BACKGROUND

birthplace — new haven, CT parents — Marin Rivera (mother), Sarah Rivera (step-mother) & Haruhito Shindo (step-father) & Kratos (biological parent). siblings — older sister, Luisa Rivera (she be mortal) pets — floof, stray cat coming by the gym, died in a car crash right outside education — high school drop-out notable skills — krav maga, can wear cowboy hats with anything, can sing, has a mean left hook

BIO

Marin Rivera had everything in life one could wish for. She was born the youngest daughter of a wealthy family, her father dealing with property and her mother a former goddess of ballet. Money - for her, would never be an issue, but money wasn't what Marin craved more than anything in the world. It also wasn't top class education or how many horses she could own, no. What she truly desired was love. Only she wasn't meant to ever find it.

She fell for a man she couldn't have, a man who knew of her desperation and the many digits on her bank account and he saw his chance. His marriage would be a secret for at least two years of their relationship, his wife hidden away downtown, sated and distracted with money he got from naive Marin who saw the world through rose-tinted glasses.

Up until the day she wound up pregnant with a child. Before she could explain, he packed his bags and ran. It wasn't his! But she found out about his wife the day before and believe it or not - heartbreak and alcohol was never a good combination. A beautiful - if rough around the edges stranger approached her and she gave herself to him willingly, if only to forget about the pain for a night.

Silverspoon or not, Marin had only recently turned nineteen, had barely seen the world or found her way in it - too busy chasing a man who clearly was poison for her. So when she came back home, bags packed and head hung low, she was ... well, not quite welcome and yet her parents were grateful she gave them the option to hide her away. If she wanted a chance at a proper husband, she couldn't bring a little boy or girl into this life. No way.

When Silas was born, Marin .. still hoped. She hoped to raise him as her own, given she had lost everything to protect the little boy she held in her arms, but it wasn't going to be her son for long. She was sent abroad to study only a few days later and Silas was raised the youngest Rivera offspring. A miracle, given the age of his "mother". With Marin's bad decisions running in his blood, Silas was watched quite closely. A strong, strict hand would surely do the trick, right?

It didn't.

At first it did, indeed. He grew up with everything onee could possibly want. He pointed at a horse, they got him a horse. He pointed at a man on TV playing the guitar... they got him lessons. It wasn't like Silas missed anything... nothing materialistic anyway. He was signed up for language courses before he could walk and for the longest time .. he did well. When it was still all games and fun. Children's brains are spectacular, aren't they? But the older he grew, the worse it got. Diagnosed with ADHD at the age of six, one would think his parents went easier on him. They did not. Don't let the child get bored, they said. And they didn't.

His father brought in even more for him to learn. Inspired by his own heritage, he felt it useful that Silas was taught in the art of archery, japanese sword fighting and the like. Due to an infinite lack of talent when it came to tea and calligraphy, he was spared in that regard at least. All that set aside, both parents had been raised with a very clear set of rules themselves. Anything less than perfect is a failed opportunity to prove your worth.

All that pressure did not bring forth the expected rewards, in fact - they witnessed the opposite, both in school and at home. He failed time and time again. Far from a social butterfly, Silas ... struggled in school and found himself more enemies than friends, in a way - without trying. Too rich, too spoiled, too slow, too stupid. Silas was a many things, clearly. And at home, he would be ridiculed and lectured on his shortcomings.

They were lucky Silas lasted as many years as he did before he snapped, because no child could thrive under that amount of pressure. When he did snap, he was in school. P.E. was his least favorite time of the day despite him being fitter than every single kid in school simply because there wasn't a single day he didn't break anything. He tried not to. It just .. happened. And then one of the other boys laughed... it wasn't even that he was embarrassed.. it just.. he was tired of it all. He was tired of not belonging, he was tired of scrutinizing eyes on him twenty-four-seven, he was tired of working as hard as he could and still failing.

That kid never laughed at Silas again. In fact, nobody did. Not after the boy spent a month at the hospital, mostly unconscious. The outrage at home... unbearable. But for the first time in his life... he felt content. It lasted a few mere minutes, but he remembered. Sure, music got him to almost that feeling, it did, but it wasn't exactly the same. He'd ... felt peace. And so he chased it. Plenty of kids at school to experiment with. Many of them eager to fight him. Rich kid schools, worse than public in that regard. Most kids were trapped in their family's shadow and knew they needed to perform or else..

And oh, he found that feeling again. And again. Every time his fist connected with a body, every time his knuckles found bone to crack, he felt alive. School was far from happy, but a generous donation had the majority of teachers look away. Or maybe they just didn't care.

Highschool went the exact same way, only Silas was slowly growing into himself. Taller, still incredibly thin, which was the reason he was underestimated regularly, only to then surprise everybody. Silas was convinced people were either born smart or strong; he was definitely the latter, so school was .. a necessity he barely managed, only he never meant to go much further than graduation.

At 19, Silas found out a twisted version of the truth. Marin .. was dead. To him, she was a sister he never met, the one his parents always spoke about, but a guest at the funeral mentioned something he couldn't forget and when he brought it up with his parents, they told him Marin didn't want a child and they never knew the father.

That explained so much. Not even his parents wanted him. His life ... a lie. All of it. That night, Silas grabbed his guitar, packed a bag and ran. Nobody would see him for a long time, but his issues never subsided. Even the US army struggled to contain him, because just like before .. he found plenty of potential victims among those who didn't know to keep their opinions to themselves when he was around. Though he got lucky and found a sponsor among the corporals, one who seemed to be ready to help. Come what may.

Anger management therapy in combination with meditation and straining daily workout sessions seemed to do the trick for a while. Order and guidance instead of pressure seemed .. to work and while beating up punching bags wasn't quite the same thrill, it .. was okay. He even found time for music again.

And then it wasn't okay and he .. had to leave. Again. But this time he wasn't alone. Corporal went with him (and brought his daughter). They built a life for themselves in New Haven, Silas was working as a cleaner at the local gym and Corporal got into the mayor's office, sure to work his way up the ranks quickly. A few months later, first relapse. It should've cost him his job, but .. it didn't. Instead it granted him a new opportunity. Even though it would ultimately cost him his family.

He was battle-trained, had spent the majority of his life training so becoming an MMA fighter sure.. sounded like a great opportunity even though he was too old to properly get into it, they said. Silas didn't care. One, because he knew he could and two, because he didn't care about prizes, the knowledge that he could thrive in doing the one thing he was truly good at.. that was all he needed.

When he won his first title only a few years later, nobody could believe it, really. And then he held it. Year after year. The Lion - as they called him, stood strong. Silas was growing older and he was getting closer and closer to that age, at which point he was considered too old to contest, even though he felt fine and stronger than ever, the constant training sure wearing down his body's reserves, but ... his will remained unbroken and his performance unbeaten. Rules and regulations were merciless. He held several titles until he retired and returned to the gym in teeny tiny little New Haven, which felt ...lacking after he'd seen the world, so he once again packed his bags, grabbed his guitar and moved to Los Angeles.

Part of him regretted the choice he made. Fame for family. But at the end of the day he knew it'd been for the best. They were better off without him, surely. Being single wasn't so bad either. Being somewhat famous ... surely helped potential hookups look past his lack of social ... affinity. It also helped pushing his career as a musician up to the point of semi-regular income with little gigs and a few released albums. Life was .. going.

That was until he found out the truth.

The actual truth.

Obvious choice, wasn't it? He had nothing to lose.

#godlingintros #pinned post. #silas bio. #to my defense... he is old... long life... long bio #yesyes nghhh #i could've gone on for longer T.T

[grigori77]

Critical Role Campaign 3 Episode 39

Cash App again ... here we go, this'll be hilarious and awful. And Ashley STILL doesn't know what she's doing as The Thumb ... "I'm so lame." Wait ... a cliffhanger? Really?

Matt's advertising voice-over style is strangely lovable, too ...

I love it when Marisha fumbles a "but wait, there's more", it's quite endearing, really.

Matt: "And now you too can scram ... scram? SCREAM at Sam Riegel."

"It's Thursday Niiiiiiiight!" C'mon everybody, y'know you wanna sing along!

Okay ... with Eshteross dead ... :( Where do we go from here? We got Laudna back, but ... oh man, I'm like SUPER conflicted right now ...

Ah yes, the decorum of informing people without implicating themselves too ... this is gonna be REALLY delicate work to get right.

The pronunciation debate on Seshadri prompting Sean Connery impressions galore, I love it.

Chetney tries to work out if there's a code in the cookie recipe. Makes a beautiful tit out of himself.

"Eshteross' Revengers ..." No, not after they spent all that time on a logo.

Imogen messages Seshadri ... Matt: "Crossing the streams ..." Funny ... and then it gets emotional. HEY!!! NO PHONES!!! Don't they know they're recording? XD

The Otohan orb is still dark ... that's if it still works now ...

Room 69 ... oh dear ... Imogen: "Be discreet." Cue numerous innuendos.

2 gold for a bottle of nice scotch? Pretty sweet.

Evelyn ... yeah, she DEFINITELY shouldn't go back to the house. Man, she sounds so flustered now ...

I think Ashton's ALLOWED to be paranoid right now.

Laudna has NO REASON to feel indebted to the others, they all love her. Necklace and dolls ... oh yeah, those were IN THE SPIRIT WORLD, Fearne! The wish is father of the thought, clearly ...

Oh yeah, Mathilda Bradbury ... but now she's Laudna. So she's happiest staying who she us NOW, it seems. Fearne: "I like Laudna." Yeah, we all do, luv.

It came out of the la la la's she'd sing to herself? That's adorable ... oh hello again Pate, you freaky little beasty ...

No Delilah? Please no Delilah ... REALLY don't tempt fate, guys!

Eldritch Poof ... Laudna: Ashton, catch!" Did she just -- Matt: "Roll 2 D20s ..." Bloody hell ...

She had powers BEFORE? Oh yeah, she did ... hmmm ... okay, maybe she'll be okay?

This guy at the door ... Olly? Oh yeah, the Green Seekers. This is either good or REALLY bad ... yeah, they ARE under suspicion. SHIT.

Orym rolls 21 insight ... WHISPERS!!! Sam has to scramble a plug ...

The emotional wheel ... Sam: "Where's confusion?"

Checking Seshadri's letter ... is he REALLY gonna try and READ IT THROUGH THE ENVELOPE?!!!

Fuck ... he just TEARS IT OPEN ... this can't end well ...

Eshteross was being honest in trusting her ... Laudna casts Mending on the envelope and seal. Taliesin: "Mmmmm ... mail fraud."

Pearl ... BAT BAT!!! Liam: "It's Morphin' time."

Okay ... QUITE the brouhaha in the Spires tonight ...

Fuck ... did Ashton just say PLEASE?!!!

They get BADGES ... Ashton's vaguely insulted. He's so unrepentantly punk ...

Back to the Estste, then. Okay ... here she is! Mistress Seshadri. All righty then ...

Whoa ... are they about go use necromancy on Eshteross? Speak With The Dead, perhaps?

Yup, looks like that's it, yeah. Wow ... she is CREEPY. OH ... I really don't like this ...

Grave Mystic Weva Vudol. Hmmm ...

Oh fuck ... he's reanimated ... I hate this.

Whoa! That's it! Otohan's full on implicated! And the Bells Hells are OFF THE HOOK!!! Phew ... awwwww, and he got his final request fir proper burial rites. Gross, but sweet and kinda romantic too.

Hey, they even get an APOLOGY out of it. Nice. AND Otohan is now a Person of Interest. Yeah ... that's about right, there's gonna be a BUNCH of passes on THAT ONE.

SECOND contract ... oh yeah, Treshi was the first. Right.

Sruwagas. Home of the Stratos Throne. Now THAT'S a mouthful.

Wait ... that was Imogen's neighbourhood? Ooooh ... backstory goodness! Yum! XD

Okay ... so there's the letters. Business time! Here we go.

Chetney "produces the page" ... FCG: "Chetney's dying!"

Laura gets a fly in her coffee ... goes through an existential crisis about whether to spare it or not while Sam and Liam make references to The Fly ...

FCG gets weirded out by Seshadri not reading the letter straight away. Ashton: "Don't make them anxious, you wouldn't like them when they're anxious." Oh yeah, that's right. Don't trigger the Murderbot ...

Vudol notices Laudna ... whoa ... is she getting heart eyes? Holy fuck ... that is DOUBLE creepy ... but also strangely adorable.

Oh shit ... they worked out Laudna just got resurrected JUSY BY LOOKING AT HER? Fuck ...

21 to Insight that ass ...

Travis (singing): "What is mystery?" Tim Burton references ensue ... hmmmm ...

Business done by midday tomorrow, then. That's helpful.

Yeah, no, best not stay in the mansion right now, guys ... oh yeah, stay on the skyship, that's smart.

Time for their final farewells to Eshteross ... oh boy ... so now he seems to be at peace, that's sweet -- and Fearne is now LOOTING THE BODY. For the gods' sake ...

Sentimental ginger. Cute.

Laudna, to Pate: "No, it's sad. Look sad. SADDER!!!" Pate: "I can't! It's my face, it's BONE!!!"

Time is a weird soup ... awwwww, it's back. :3

Pate being a creepy little stealth bugger is cute in the creepiest way ... ooh, ginger AND cinnamon! BONUS!!!

Imogen says goodbye to Eshteross. I'm not crying, YOU'RE crying.

Ashton seeks a memento or two. His goodbye is a good deal more understated, that's about right for him.

The Sit and Swill again. Now what? Call it a night, then. Okay ... but it was only just morning in Whitestone. Hmmm ... okay, so they all sleep in. About right after the day/night they just had ...

Oh yeah, the poison ... that's some nasty shit. Will and Orym's dad ... so they planned to take Eshteross out PROPER. Imogen has a scary point, next time they're probably not going to be so lucky.

Orym and Keyleth backstory goodness ... more yum!

FCG does some Identifying ... oh, not so much for the blood, then. Medicine check ...NAT 20!!! Nice ... he can't make anything of it but on a Nat 20 that actually means something in itself.

Oh, so at least that means he gets the read on Turmoil ... whoa, so it's A SCYTHE?!!! Acts as a greatsword ...

Laudna: "A werewolf with a scythe sounds pretty awesome!" Yeah it does.

Oh yeah, that IS pretty frickin sweet ... AND it matches the size of the wielder? NICE.

Ashton and Chetney are now politely flexing about who gets Turmoil ... okay, maybe NOT so politely ...

Breakfast ... yay, Pretty! Awwwwwwww ... he's so adorable.

FCG: "Is there love in your life?" Pretty: "Well, right now I'm ... exploring my options." :3

The girls are still all single ... FCG, stop ... Pretty continues to let them down gently. I love it.

Pretty: "Well, gotta go drain the bacon grease." And NOW Matt realises what he just said as the others lay into him without mercy ... XD

Yeah, that's probably the best time to go to a break, Matthew ...

The way they're featuring Matt in the M9 Reunion ad makes me smile, love how it's pretty blatantly implicating that Essek WILL BE an official member of the party ...

They're incorrigible? What did they do during the break, Matt? What did they do?

Hello, back to the Silver Sun. Nice.

Oh yeah, they BROKE THE SHIP on the way back. It's only been 2 days ...

Liam gets confused by Matt's NPC work and it's adorable in the most hilarious way.

Mama juice ... XD

Fuck, Matt is going SO FRENCH right now, this is a TRIP.

Looking for Xandis, then. Here we go ...

Ashton: "Is THAT how we're promoting people now? Degrees of unsettling?"

Oh yeah, that's right, Laudna was dead when Xandis last saw her. Way to be sensitive about it, you weird ass Dutchman ...

So, to Yios ... 11 days? Hmmm ...

Ashton, to Chetney: "Why are you talking in ellipses?"

Gloom Jungle's on the way? Perfect.

Yes. Get the Gorgynei. THAT is some solid reinforcement right there.

Xandis jokes about having an escape pod. That's cute ...

Wow, this clerk is just ... wow. Matt, you are evil. Laudna had fun though, that's sweet.

Laura: "We're gonna get some diamonds." Xandis: "You can dress up however you want for this trip." Laura: "I was talking to YOU, Matt!"

ONE FULL DAY to get the right amount of diamonds? Cue lots of argument about what they already have as they try to get around the time wasting ...

Taliesin is ACTUALLY TOYING WITH the idea of MUGGING SOMEBODY to get a decent Ruby quicker ... finally Laura just gives up and decides to wait.

Xandis is conflicted about their chances in an excited way ... he's a strange one, he really is.

Chetney volunteers to help with repairs. Imogen is gonna wait AFTER ALL. They take the extra night and Imogen gets her ruby in the morning.

Woodworking demon Chetney is a bit too turned on right now, I swear ...

FCG wants a special commemorative gold coin and Imogen gets ALL KINDS of flustered in the store. AND Orym takes the piss by requesting a protein shake.

Xandis' "welcome aboard" speech is PRICELESS.

Matt wants to try and scoot through this journey as fast as possible ... how many rolls is this gonna take?

First day uneventful ...

Second day uneventful ... Liam gives Matt exercise envy by describing Orym's daily workout routine.

Third day ... Taliesin rolls 3! Okay ... oh fuck, is that a dust storm? AGAIN?!!!

Chetney gives everybody rope to tie themselves to the ship just in case. Smart.

Laudna flies Pate like a kite and he love/hates it!

MORE THAN HALF the party roll SHITE and now they are flying like yoyos in sll directions on the ends of their ropes. Meanwhile Orym, on a longer rope, is A LONG WAY OFF.

They don't lose anybody, but they DO lose a day. Yeah ...

Fourth day uneventful ... okay, something is happening in the night ...

Ruidus rises ... oh man, the lights are going all red, that's never good ...

Imogen is now dreaming again ... another shadow in the storm ... oh, it's Laudna. She's not answering, though ... oh shit, that's not her! Whoa ... it's her mum!

Chetney's rolling ... 6? Ooop ... great, now Ruidus is having an effect on him too. Not good ... yup, he's wolfing out! Not good AT ALL!!!

Shit, he's gone full on FERAL ... and he's going for Orym. 2 hits! Oh shit ... 14 points of slashing damage! Ouch! Orym gets 16 points in return but it's halved ...

Oh shit this is getting so bad so quick!

And now they're rolling initiative ... Orym goes first.

Orym STABS HIM IN THE FOOT!!! That's just MEAN!!! Considers kicking him off the ship too but resists the urge ... NAT 20 attack on his leg! Super shovey action! Full on CRIT?!!! Ouch! He's not even trying to kill him either ...

Fearne casts Daylight on Chetney! Oh shit she's actually pulling a fucking Black Widow Lullaby on Chet! I love it! XD

It ALMOST works. Almost.

Liam (menacing): "Dance with the Devil in the red moonlight."

And now Chetney's going after Fearne. 10 points of slashing damage! As far as he knows he's just SCRATCHING AN ITCH!!!

Orym pulls a Bait & Switch on Fearne to protect her! Nice! 16 damage down to half. Orym: "Chet, we're gonna keep hitting you until you heal!" Fearne: "What do you mean?" Orym: "We're gonna keep hoping until he passes out!"

For a moment they break him out of it ... and he's under a certain number of Hit Points ... bollocks. Travis tanks the save ... yup, Chet goes apeshit again!

Orym is trying to go for NON LETHAL DAMAGE ... hmmm ... is this actually even gonna work?

Meatzza Pizza!

Chetney is WAY too strong for Fearne to restrain right now, clearly ... oh wait, he's back. He sees what he did ... Chetney (in wolf voice): "Oops ... I did it again." Everybody cracks up.

Fearne remains seemingly immune to Chetney's attempts at guilty flirtation, it seems ...

Meanwhile, back in Imogen's dream ...

Her mother's gone ... she can see Ruidus this time? Hmmm ... Lightning Strike on the hut ... and it's just GONE in the storm.

Up into the sky ... she goes up ... and starts to fall! Oh shit ... she wakes up! Oh boy ...

Casts Sendjng to her mother ...

Imogen's mother: "Imogen?"

Matt: "And THAT'S where we're gonna end tonight's episode!" Everybody goes TOTALLY MENTAL this time!

MATTHEW FUCKING MERCER WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!!! YOU IMPOSSIBLE SADIST HOW CAN YOU LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?!!! AAAAAARGH!!!

#critical role #crit role campaign 3 #campaign 3 spoilers #campaign 3 episode 39 #matt mercer #marisha ray #laudna #travis willingham #chetney pock o'pea #laura bailey #imogen temult #liam o'brien #orym of the air ashari #ashley johnson #fearne calloway #taliesin jaffe #ashton greymoore #sam riegel #fresh cut grass

[funkypoacher]

25 OTP prompts #16 "It's always been you."

Coupling of your choice 💚

When I said “there might be smut” what I actually meant was “they don’t even kiss.” But I am super happy with how this turned out. Max and Archie have more ignored, misplaced baggage than a big-name airline, and, thanks to this prompt (thankyouthankyou), it looks like The Winners of the Award for Worst Adults Adulting might actually start to heal. Someday. <.< Maybe.

Warnings for: way too much dialogue, Max being a prick, and Archie impersonating garbage. Also warnings for mentions of a sick baby and difficult childbirth and drug use and withdrawal. (this is almost 5,000 words what happened)

also i'll tag @the-lastcall because you tagged me for WIP whenever <3 this is my wip, and it'll stop wipping when I put it on ao3 eventually.

___

The Outer Worlds Maximillian DeSoto/Archie Quaice "Millie"

Humpin’ bureaucracy’s leg like a rutting canid weren’t so bad if it landed you in luxury’s lap afterward. Leastways, that’s how Archie figured, as her finger, frilled with purpleberry frosting, jammed between her lips, that savorating goodness smacked vociferously to dissipating. Yum.

With tizzied taste buds, Archie finished the Rizzo’s pastry split-lickity. She rode a sugar-high back to her room, biding time at one of the large windows on the way, lingering long enough to look out at Byzantium’s streets. There wasn’t much action, and it made Archie smirk.

The Halcyon Holdings Corporate Board had been born anew, slapped on the bottom, and told to get crackin’. Surprisingly, it was doing better than simply hollering. Rounding-up and rebranding every available scientist with a new, iron-seared vision of the future, the Board was allocating resources according to some ‘grand plan’, though such verbiage was verily avoided for its religious lean. Most of the Board’s big-hats rather side-eyed faith these days, which ruffled the OSI’s red-faced clergy in the middle of ameliorating a fresh regime with their stale ways.

As Archie heard it, one particular up-the-chain colony director was none-too-shrewdly shooing the Bishop’s attempts at confabulation, and it was this said director’s sparse agreeability which had him sent on such long furloughs about the colony. These furloughs never seemed for-long-enough, though. His relationship with Archimedes Quaice was gasoline-doused and pitch-sticky. Primed to explode at even the mention of sparkage, its fuse—his fuse—was quite the clipped one.

Short-fused Maximillian DeSoto was there now, actually. Max was in her room. It hadn’t been expected.

Less expected than his presence, of course, was Max stooping over her kid.

“Should you even be on that bum leg?” Archie strode across her room, speeding towards the man who gripped the bassinet with one hand, while the other white-knuckled the polished curve of his cane.

Upon turning towards her, Max’s expression weren’t any measure of practiced, sternly inscrutability. If anything, he’d decided new position was supported by such perks as dismissing them Scientician pillars of stoicism entirely. That, or it was his loss of faith. Either/or, he looked like he’d come to fight.

“No more than you should be leaving the child alone,” Max answered headedly, stepping back to afford her room.

Peeping the bassinet’s payload to reaffirm the child’s sound sleeping, Archie managed to shrug.

“Just went down the hall for food. Wasn’t gone longer than a few minutes.”

Walking to the parlor of her open-concept quarters, the woman lit a Wentworth cigarette, humming gratified for the taste. Tossing its squat pack on a table, she slumped into the velvet divan, eyeing someone she hadn’t put peepers on in near-bouts a fortnight.

Much hadn’t been said, then. Actually, they hadn’t spoken at all. Her baby had been born—Archie could hardly recollect it, save an impression of agony—but, afterwards, weaving in and out with her wavering subconscious, was something she flatteringly settled on calling his braided-in concern. Archie remembered Max saying something to Ellie Fenhill while gripping her arm… The wrinkles on his hands had been exaggerated to craggy cliffs due to whatever brain-bending pain-placater they’d had her hooked to… And then Archie remembered Max had gone.

Two weeks(ish) had shilly-shallied passed since then. The days’ long hours had filled with barrels of befuddlings. Halcyon’s upheaval aside, Max DeSoto was now very the head honcho. Captaining the Unreliable’s rag-tag bag of Board-certified unemployables, Maximillian and Co. had stormed the prison-planet Tartarus, saved the scientist Phineas Welles, bargained with big-cheese Sophia Akande, and come-out the other side smiling (sorta).

Halcyon had been headed for a dust-up, no bones there, but Max had the healthsome prestige which came with causing such a revivifying ruckus, and that… It was something to chaw at, certainly. Archie was at his mercy as much as anyone. That, as a kindness, was questionable.

“You could have called for something. Someone would have brought you food.” Today, Max was cold and flippant.

“Don’t like anyone waiting on me. You know that.” Meanwhile, Archie was aiming for lax.

Such divided and negative dialectical mathematics didn’t so much suggest a positive sum.

Gripping his cane, it weren’t quite the feeble front it ought’ve been. No one could seem frail when they stood to the height that Maximillian DeSoto did, or when they looked down from it, which he’d always enjoyed.

“No, I know,” he answered thinly. “Just as you won’t wait for anyone else. With the child to look after, that’s going to have to change.”

Taking a drag of her cigarette, Archie leaned forwards, ashing into the expensive marble tray. She also leaned towards a new avenue of chit-chat. “Expecting you’ll want me back at work soon. It’s why you brought me here, after all.” She glanced at him after another puff. “You’d said you might have me looking at McDevitt’s work? Seein’ about bettering the hydroponics?” Taking another cigarette-hit, Archie smiled nostalgically, nattering about how she’d “put so many of those rigs together back on Earth before the lay-offs, could probably do it in my sleep, now.”

“That was the plan, originally,” confirmed Max, “but we’ve since located a few soil engineers who are making great strides. For now, you can focus on the child. As I understand from Miss Fenhill, its health is still rather poor.”

Archie nodded slowly. “Child-rearing. Got it.” It wasn’t the responsibility she was skeptical of: it was how long they’d let her do it. Taking care of her own weren’t much the contribution in a colony going full-speed towards desperately-required efficiency.

“For all the trouble it took in wrangling me here,” Archie noted, “might we’ll’ve left me on Monarch if that’s all I’m to do.”

Max’s head tilted. “Is that where you wish to be? On Monarch?”

Archie considered the fiction in her casual pose; the inaccuracy of her disinterested tone; the falsehood in her furtive eyes. All she put forth suggested detachment as his presence, but her heart were beating manic like a madman at the door. So Archie tried, for a second, at honesty.

“Maybe.” She huffed. “No. Not really. Monarch is…”

… A cesspit.

Max’s rounded eyes coldly waylaid their surprise. “No? I would think you’d want the child’s father involved in raising her.”

“There’s hardly any raisin’ her now,” Archie replied. “There’s just waitin’ to see if she lives through the month.”

“But you would rather be with Bryant,” Max said—he didn’t ask—this was simply confirmation of his suspicions.

Archie shrugged.

The sneer that spread across Max’s face seemed like a smile gone sour—as though a happiness had gotten into something bitter and went terribly, sadly wrong. 

Wishing not to wander that avenue of conversation—wanting, in fact, to copiously cold-shoulder anything that so riled Maximillian DeSoto—Archie stood. She offered him a cigarette. Bending forward slight, Max allowed her to place one between his lips, as though some kind of catered-to, fine and lofty Board executive, which he was.

Which is he, Archie thought, fumbling with the lighter.

Lighting the stick stuck between his lips, she tried not to stare there. “So. How’s the colony, Mr. Director-of-Colony-Assets-and-Acclimation? Quite the fance-and-pomp title you’re flashing these days.”

Taking a deep drag, Max’s eyes closed. “It could be worse.” Exhaling, he tsked frustratedly under his breath. “Phft. Hardly. As the title suggests, acclimating Halcyon’s citizens has been one of the larger responsibilities. I’d thought it’d be the more difficult one. But, as it turns out, all their lack of intelligence does not translate to a scarcity in faith.” He rolled the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “The citizens of Halcyon are steadfast, and they’ll turn whichever way the OSI dictates, no matter its stark contrast to their precepts from the day before. Fools,” he spat, alongside an exhale of smoke.

“It’s the assets, then, that are sticking your craw?”

Max nodded, side-eyeing, as usual, her low-brow verbiage. “Yes. Byzantium’s stocks aren’t so impressive when set against system-wide projections for the next five years. Even if we took every able body In Halcyon and converted them to laborours, we still may run out of food. If we took every scientist and threw them at the problem—which we have—we still may not be able to properly terraform the system.” Worked near to throes with the bothersome subject matter, Max began pacing, his cane tapping the marble floor and cigarette casting an ashen trail. “The Adjutant has been pushing for partial institution of the Lifetime Employment Program. And Welles’ pessimism when it comes to old-Board rhetoric has him blind to the fact that the program may save us in the long-run.”

“The Lifetime Employment Program… That was the scheme to freeze folks, wasn’t it?”

As his pacing brought him back around, Max noted, “that’s right—you left us after we secured the dimethyl sulfoxide.” Stopping his step, this curbing of agitated action complemented a curiously apologetic tone. “I know it seems like a step back,” he said tiredly. “We fought the Board to stop such callous, clear-cut measures—”

“No, no,” Archie interrupted, smiling softly. “I trust you. If it’s all so dire, I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure it’s what needs to be done.”

She thought to check her time-peice for the sake of clocking their moment of understanding. It were, historically, always a rather spectacular second: when Max looked her over and saw no judgment, and Archie, ever the moralist, appreciated his pragmatism which could be remarkably kind-hearted.

With some kind of ice broken, small-talk rose through the cracks. They sat at the couches, Archie pouring two glasses of Spectrum Vodka, and over the rims of their watered-drinks they discussed what few shared interests they had, namely what the Unreliable’s former crew were up to, and, finally, the fates of any small towns that they were both aware of, Archie’s geographical knowledge of the system not exactly robust by any means.

Like many stuck slumming in Law-forsaken back-waters, their conversation rested in Edgewater, eventually. Defying their brackish ties with the town, however, it wasn’t so salty a topic.

“Half the problem was parts, is my understanding.” Max took another gargle from his glass. “I’ve asked not to be bothered with such insignificant minutiae, but it seems everything crosses my desk, regardless of what I say.” He huffed. “Anyways. Stellar Bay’s cannery has been largely disassembled, with its parts destined for Edgewater. We debated its usefulness as a functioning unit on its own, but ultimately we’re going to continue the evacuations of Monarch that the Board couldn’t be bothered with.”

“Where you sending them?” Archie asked, drink-cozy on her spot on the couch.

“Wherever the workers are needed,” Max answered. “There’s even a fair few of your Iconoclasts set to become useful members of society here on Terra 2. Zora Blackwood is in Edgewater now, in fact, overseeing reformations. It’s likely she’ll remain there as Outpost Administrator for some time.”

“Zora jumped ship?” Prodding at this crap-tacular reality, Archie perceived, rather painfully, that the rum had hassled her head to aching.

Wincing, she peered at Max.

“Have you not spoken with Bryant at all?” he wondered.

Reaching forward, Archie forsook her drink far and away on the coffee table, soured to it. “No. I keep meaning to. Supposing I oughta radio him, or write him. He should know it happened, at any rate.”

Max offered, sans any stab of concern, “he does.”

Archie swallowed, drowning in what care he lacked. “What?”

“Your recovery following the birth was difficult and I thought he should know,” Max explained, boredly inspecting his drink. “In case anything should happen. In case the child should need to be relocated.”

Archie spun without influence. She had a whole roll-call of favored pharmaceuticals, and, while booze might’n been sitched swell at the bottom, she weren’t a light-weight, either. Archie could hold her hooch. Archie could hold her drink a damn-sight better than what Max was now throwing at her by the beefing barrel-full.

“You talked to him.”

“I did,” Max confirmed.

“You talked to him,” Archie repeated, sprat-angsting as though stuck in a corner.

“Yes,” Max repeated, words heavier than lead. “I spoke with Bryant. He said congratulations were in order. He seems to be under the impression that the child is mine.”

The plush, pillowy couch cushions ‘neath her noggin didn’t comfort. They only rooted her to the spot, though they did, at least, hold her head where her neck couldn’t. What Archie would’ve given for a flash of Focusitol, or Level Head, to clear-out the brain-fog, but she’d been cut off. It were the drugs, after all, that made the birthing so dangerous in the first place.

Due to stress and thanks to lifestyle-choices, Archie’s then-recently increased cocktail of daily opiates had fairly fucked her system. Requiring a C-section, an immediate detox of her body followed on doctor’s orders. It wasn’t the birth that nearly ended her: it was the withdrawal. Archie had been tied to the hospital bed, and covered in her own sick, for days. At the end of it, she didn’t feel like herself.

She still didn’t. 

“As much as I dislike the man,” Max said, hoisting himself up from the couch, “what you’ve done is cruel.”

Archie’s voice stuck on the notion. “Cruel?”

“Yes,” Max snapped, “cruel. Of course it’s cruel to keep the truth of the child’s breeding from the father!”

“But don’t you…?” Mustering the merest smidge of grit, Archie swallowed and begged him, implored him, “but don’t you think it’s kinder than the burden of it?”

“You think it’s a burden?” Max wondered, too stunned, now, to sound angry.

“Could be,” Archie answered quietly, shrinking into herself.

Max was awestruck: smucked where he stood by something he’d apparently been thinking on lengthily, yet the conclusion he’d previously come to had been short.

“Is that why you told Bryant the child was mine? To absolve him of the responsibility?”

“Maybe,” Archie shrugged. “Maybe I just don’t know who the father really is.” They both winced distastefully in turn, and Archie, sighing sourly at herself, recanted. “No, sorry, that’s me bein’ smart. I know who the daddy is, Max. And… the truth all out? I know I didn’t want him clinging to me outta some high-minded sense of obligation.”

“Do you honestly believe Bryant has a high-minded bone in his body?” Max, too, made an off-handed sound of displeasure, though it was hardly aimed at himself. “What am I talking about, the fool is stoned almost 24-7. If not on medicinals then certainly on his own hog-wash.”

“I know you don’t like him, but Graham…” Archie’s shoulders fell. “If he knew the child was his? He wouldn’t’ve let me leave Monarch without a fight. Shoulda heard the things he said. About fatherhood, and the universe understanding itself through progeny, and… and the like.” Archie bit her lip. “Point is, I don’t want…” She closed her eyes. ”I don’t want to be walkin’ all over anyone’s right to livin’ as they like because they think they oughta be fatherin’.” 

“Ah, yes. Your ‘generosity’ regarding personal liberties. The same benevolence that kept you from killing marauders is now, miraculously,  absolving you of telling the truth in regards to this child.” Max 180-ied to irate from sarcastically-tickled in no seconds at all. “Void take the Pillars, but they are certainly right to say that emotions are a base reaction in comparison to reason.”

“You think I’m being emotional?” Archie asked, grinning for the hypocrisy. “You’re the one riling.”

Max stood taller, then. Both hands resting on his cane lessened to just the one; his shoulders straightened with the grace of someone far too happy to be correct.

Taking a step closer to the couches, Max towered over her. 

“Doctor Fenhill explained that, despite the child’s frail state, she was not born prematurely. Given the new time-table… I know it’s mine.”

Archie’s gaze fell to her lap. “That’s not true.”

“Archie,” Max warned.

Eyes turning upwards, Archie’s mouth fell ajar, but no words fumbled passed her lips. Jaw working to get anything out, as though she were an animal choking on a bone, yet still Archie could emit nothing but a moan that sorried, slowly, into low, desperate sobbing.

He’d known… Void, how long? As they’d sipped tipples, all friendly, he’d held, in his palm, this accuracy she wanted kept from everybody. And here was the killing-blow from a man who loved to land his punches, her fate still crumpled in his hands.

“Max, I…”

She cried garbled half-excuses, and confused explanations, none of it shaping into any language-based lick-of-sense. The only thing she could properly manage, truly, was her anguish, which sputtered and gobbed between thick, heavy tears.

“I can’t believe this,” Max spat. “You’re pathetic, you know that? Caught in a lie, and all you can do is blubber like a child. 

“Max!” Archie gasped as though slapped.

“Do you hate me so much?” Max demanded, pacing once more. “To go to such lengths—to lie like this? Do you know I hold your life in my hands?”

Dizzy with regret, turned-about and tousled, Archie was finally able to tether herself to this—to something he’d said she knew to be a lie.

“I don’t hate you,” she whimpered. “I don’t, I swear…”

“What is it, then?” Max asked. “You’re afraid of me?”

There’s something to be said for history—for having lived through it, and to see it coming ‘round again. In a moment of clarity, Archie was able to eye-ball Max unwaveringly, remembering the lengths he went to in apology after hurting her during the fray with Reginald Chaney. He’d regretted, often times, startling her with his tempers. Moreover, Max’s self-superiority loathed to see him wrong, and his present acrimony clearly came from assuming just this: that he’d thought Archie had forgiven him, and, as it turned out she never had.

But she had, damn it. There weren’t no sin of Max’s that she couldn’t stand. She’d lied out of fear, but it wasn’t outta fear of him.

“No, Maximillian,” Archie said, voice warbling under the weight of her conviction. “I am not afraid of you.” She softened. “But I am afraid to be around you.”

Max scoffed. “Same thing.”

“No—no it rutting isn’t!” She yelled, voice echoing off the walls.

Calming herself, Archie craved that mellow, yellow, sunshine-n-posies dulcet of various drugs and doses that had often seen her through parley with Max. But she was on her own—it was just her skin against Max’s, with the question being whose was thicker?

“It’s not the same,” Archie repeated. “Being around you makes me think of everything I walked away from when I left the Unreliable. Don’t mean the others so much, good as they are. Or the free meals. But us… We could’ve…” Archie sighed. “And I walked away because I was afraid of what Welles had us doing.” She whittled a serene smile out of her certainty. “I’m not cut-out for captaining. Nor for crew-work, neither. Not even fit for kitchen-duty. And I didn’t want to be a burden.” Archie straightened her posture, mirroring Max’s iron-rod spine. “I don’t want to be a burden now,” she clarified. “It’s why I… It’s why I’ve said what I’ve said to those I’ve said it to.”

The ending dregs of Max’s fury burned away to a subdued expression.

“Sorry as I am for what you and I missed,” Archie promised, “I didn’t fit with what you were doin’. It was better for everyone that I left.”

Max’s gaze meandered over her, taking measurements, making notes. It weren’t like he was seeing her anew, or appreciating the familiar. Maybe it were just something for his eyeballs to do while his brain blistered with what she’d said.

“That isn’t true,” he said at length.

Max gripped his cane with a hand that suddenly wanted of colour. Most of him blanched; most of him seemed old, matching the bend of his back which suddenly curved as he walked away in inches.

He came to a stop, having not shuffled much distance. But he was far from the man of moments before, young for all his fury.

“I had lost my faith,” Max said, his back still to her. ”It was the only thing making sense of this Void-blasted joke we call existence. You were supposed to be the thing that kept me together after. You and your endless answers; you and your inexhaustible alternatives to anything I’d ever preached, or stood for. But you didn’t. You left when I needed you. And I’ve been blaming you ever since. For things…” Max sighed deeply. ”For problems of my own making, I suppose.”

Archie walked over, lighting along so quiet she didn’t even harken her own step. She’d always figured they were hum-dingers of a distraction for each other: something to paw at—something to love until the lie of it got too heavy, and they could vent it out the airlock alongside other such vain, idle vocab as ‘let’s be together’ or ‘forever’. Things didn’t last in the universe—reason schooled them so. And even if Archie weren’t religious, she still respected facts.

But here they were: at the end of it. After the end of their relationship. And still Max was admitting to sentiments past a best-before date. It meant they’d been truthsome: anything he’d said, or singed across her skin in tenderness, hadn’t been some pretty, pearly prose to get him what he’d wanted, in the moment. He’d cared for her—the real deal—which meant any clinging, after the baby, wouldn’t have been for propriety’s sake.

This Archie realized quite regretfully. Still, she smiled as he turned to face her.

“Perhaps it’s simply that I prefer to find you vexing,” Max theorized. Reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbed her skin, keeping to habit. “Perhaps the anger allows me some distance from what I truly feel.”

“In the time I’ve known you,” Archie said, “you’ve only ever been angry. About everything. Bein’ placed with the plebeians in Edgewater; about your past, and your parents. Now you’re pissed at the church, which I must say is a very nice shade on you.” She grinned at his tersed brow. “Plus you’re pissed at me. If it ain’t anger, Maximillian, what else have you got?”

“And if it isn’t fear masquerading as sympathy,” Max replied smoothly, “what have you got?”

Archie grinned cheekily. “I can have both.” Moving closer, she came flush against Max’s chest, one hand resting on his as it gripped his cane. “I can be afraid of what I feel, too,” she breathed across Max’s neck.

The lights in the room were low. They deepened the hazel of his eyes to brown—just brown, warm and dark. Roving for that scent of creams, cosmetics, and lovely soap, Archie inhaled with shaking breath, aware that Max was not so easily moved as her.

“We’ve been here before,” he warned. “And our… discourse only goes so far.”

“Yeah, but it’s seen us to some pretty swell places,” Archie said wryly. “Your anger…” Her hand flattened against his lower stomach, her fingers inching down. “My sympathies.”

“Nng.” Max’s eyes snapped shut, mustering strength-of-will. Head tilting, he told them both, “that isn’t good enough—not anymore,” before pulling away and hoofing for the door, his stride quick, healthy, and confident.

“If you wish to return to Monarch, you may,” he said, pausing to look at her, as she shivered where she stood. “If you want me to stay away, I will.” Turning, he added over his shoulder, quietly, “something has to give, Archimedes.”

Archie ran to him. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she held Max, in the hopes he wouldn’t, in turn, hold her accountable for all her griefs. “There’s something to be said about predictability, ain’t there?” She demanded desperately. “The planets boot it around the sun time and time again. So can’t we come back to this?” She held him a little harder.

Both of Max’s hands gripped his cane, his body swaying despite the hold she had on it.

“Not if it leads to another argument. Not if it leads to my hurting you. Or your lying to me.” He tensed. “I’ve been 

lied to enough in my life as it is.”

Ice crept through her veins, following the blood flow to a heart which cracked. An imprudent nature caused blame to aim towards the church, first, but, yes, Archie remembered soon those lies of her own forging. 

Pulling away, she went to where she might take Max’s face in both palms. Opening her mouth to speak, Max looked away, knowing, most like, what were to come. Archie had always been a woman free with her affection, though frugal with the truth, and there sat their great difference: in the matter of diction.

Their definitions varied, as their personal dictionaries were not written from the same stock.

“Max, look at me,” Archie said. He wouldn’t. He did allow himself, however, to rest his face in her hands, eyes closed warily. 

“I want to say it and mean it,” Archie swore, appreciating his lashes. “And I want to say it and not do something two seconds on the after that makes it seem empty.”

“Are you trying to say that you’re sorry?” Max asked, blearily eyeing her. “Or are you trying to say that you”—he huffed doubtfully—“love me?”

“I don’t know,” Archie admitted, preferring pretty stupidity to falsifying. It was their definitions of love that had never been the same. “I’m saying… Max, I’m trying to say that…”

With nowhere else to set her sights, her gaze drifted towards the bassinet. Something—she didn’t know what—struck her, and sucked her into this fanciful image where it might be the three of them.

“It’s you.” Archie turned back to him. “It’s always been you.”

Max nodded. It was new—it was an acceptance he didn’t seem obligated to explain. Or perhaps Archie no longer felt needs to interpret. Without a swig of Level Head (or its slower-acting, longer-lasting tablet form), her mind favored wading through what was rather than swimming through scant specifics, comparing every damn thing in her life, or Max’s, to some personal, historical tragedy. 

Max nodded—and he accepted. And that was all it need be. But Archie still had no idea what he thought of the baby.

“She’s really very quiet, isn’t she?” Max wondered, startling Archie from her not-thoughts, their bodies continuing to press together. He’d followed their conversation to its inevitable, swaddled conclusion.

“Way I understand it, that might not be such a good thing.” Archie noticed a few new white hairs at his temple. “You want to hold her?”

Max’s chest swelled. Yet, still, it paled to the way his hand clutched at his cane, this being but the barest of examples of how his body now frustrated his wishes. His shame was transparent, as was his dread. 

“I’ll bring her to you,” Archie offered, touching his cheek. 

As Max sat on the couch, cradling the child shifting with listless life, Archie watched, lighting a cigarette that she stubbed out within seconds. This was as automatic as it had been when she’d struck the match; her body was going through the motions, as her mind absorbed utterly in the scene before her. Max weren’t an expert in baby-holding; he weren’t so savvy in supporting the delicate, neither. But he made do.

More likely than not, it was his darling stupefaction gettin’ both of them through it, of course. Because Max was gobsmacked.

Archie was about to formally start fretting—she catered no inklings towards Max’s notions regarding kids-raising, nor even where they stood in regards to each other—however, Max looked to Archie with such gentle intentions that fretting fell far on the backburner.

“She needs a name, Archimedes,” Max informed her. His certitude was comical.

“Oh, I’ve been calling her Millie,” Archie replied. She added, just as casually, “after her daddy.”

Max’s eyes rounded; his posture stiffened; his jaw dropped a smidgeon. Not because of the admission; not because someone was calling him a father, for Archie was hum-dingin’ sure that Ellie Fenhill hadn’t employed any such jargon when spilling those exceptionally fragile beans.

No, it weren’t that he was furnishing the DeSoto family-tree with more foliage that struck him. What surprised Max was that anyone would find him so grand as to cherish this child with his name.

“After her father?”

Archie nodded, giggling at the joy in his voice. As Max went back to looking at the little girl in his hands, Archie repeated, grinning, “yeah. After her father.”

#the outer worlds #tow fanfic #archimedes quaice #maximillian desoto #i lost steam in the last quarter not gonna lie #and i'm too tired to edit #also i hate that banner because his face is fucking hard but i think archie turned out cute #also i've already started re-writing the end skdksfjker

[ciaossu-imagines]

I definitely ran overly long on the last prompt and Tumblr's word limit cut me off! Because of this, I'm going to finish up the prompt here!

Cashew – Okay, I’ll openly admit Cashew’s my favourite of the phone flings! And nobody, not even the creators themselves, will ever convince me this good, bookish boy is not studying Library Sciences to become a librarian! Which is why Librarian by My Morning Jacket is the song I really associate with him.

Boss – I can’t place quite why because by all extents and purposes, his phone fling was the silliest out of all of them, but Boss seems like a really, really stressed guy. Like the kind of guy who is a workaholic and has indigestion from chronic stress but can’t let go of any of it really and can’t seem to ask for help even though it’s obvious he needs it. When I was thinking of songs for him, even though it initially doesn’t seem like it should fit, Help! by The Beatles really kept popping back into my head and that’s the one I decided to go with!

Felix – Felix is the quintessential bad boy that your parents would hate but you just can’t stay away from. Is it any wonder I chose Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood for him?

Reece – As with a lot of the others on the list, gotta pay homage to the obvious inspiration while also trying to fit the character. Couldn’t resist and definitely had to go with the upbeat, energetic, and then strangely mysterious, seductive, and almost dangerous Boom Town Suite from the Doctor Who soundtrack!

Ace – My second favourite baseball boy! This man just…yum, yum, he looks good with that bat in his hand and he’s just got this bright, welcoming demeanor! Is there any doubt I think of the good, old classic Take Me Out to the Ball Game?

Ferris – My poor, poor Ferris. This boy needs a cup of coffee, some Advil, and more than a few days off! He’s definitely stressed out, burning the candle at both ends, and so overworked. He can definitely sympathize with and deeply connects to Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5!

Poe – So, to reference a chat between Poe and Marshmallow, and because, let’s be honest, this little emo boy absolutely adores Marilyn Manson, I had to use Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson. Also, fun fact about the writer but this is one of the few songs where I love the cover version more than the original!

Logan – He’d hate it. This song actually, in my headcanon, makes him irrationally angry any time someone so much as hums it. He takes firefighting so seriously, after all. But I definitely think of Burning Down the House by Talking Heads every time Logan shows up on my screen!

Finn – Again, playing into obvious associations and inspirations, but it’s always Song of Storms from Zelda for the cutest Link expy! That and this is a solid song and always pretty enjoyable…nothing amazing, honestly, but solid and that’s about my thoughts on Finn. Oh, and if I remember correctly, can’t you actually make him play this song or something really similar?

Leo – The Cyborg Fights from the One Punch Man Soundtrack, of course! Aside from the obvious Genos inspiration, Leo is a cyborg…and he fights. Pretty damn explanatory, haha!

Seth – Stirling is a devil…literally. That’s what he is, he’s canonically from hell but honestly, a pretty stand up guy. Charming, slightly manipulative, not much in the way of morals, but overall still a damn good guy! I think Sympathy for the Devil from The Rolling Stones definitely sums Seth up pretty nicely (saying this without fully getting him levelled up so I might be proven wrong!)

Jaxon – Going with the very natural, obviously Australian vibes here. This is upbeat enough, has got a sense of adventure to it while still hinting at some melancholic touches so I had to go with Dabo’s Tales of Goapan for Handpan and Didgeridoo! Jaxon is an outdoorsman, an Aussie, and with the fact he’s mourning some things, I do feel this is such a great fit for him.

Drake – Okay, but Drake is at a magic school where the uniforms are very Hogwarts-esque (not to mention the school is actually named Snogwarts). He needs to practice magic, and he’s got this thing with a figure called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Referenced? You’re damn right I can’t help but use a Harry Potter song! In this case, I thought The Dueling Club from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets soundtrack was really the right fit for Drake!

Theo – Theo’s this fun, happy, charismatic gamer boy who’s just super easy to talk to. Gaming is something he’s really into, so I associate him strongly with video game remixes, but particularly the Animal Crossing Title Screen Synthwave Remix!

Basil – Again, playing to theming here. Basil looks a lot like Sherlock Holmes and even has you solve a mystery in his chat with you. He’s a master detective, with sharp analytical skills and keen observational skills. I can’t help but fall into the trap of thinking Sherlock for him, so the song I strongly associate with him is Spark’s Sherlock Holmes!

Fabian – Ariel ain’t got nothing on Fabian! Arrogant and confident that everything under water is so much better than on land, I can’t help but sing the opening notes to Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid soundtrack.

Nico – Nico loves music, especially music you can dance to. A DJ by trade, I definitely think any song that suits him has to be something you could find him playing in the club. I can’t explain exactly why but dubstep is definitely something I associate strongly with the character so that was the direction I went in. Flux Pavilion’s Bass Cannon is the one I settled on – it’s just impossible not to move to!

Mikey – Mikey’s whole shtick is food, and I just couldn’t resist – it’s definitely Weird Al’s Eat It for me!

Alfie Alfalfa – Given the obvious inspiration for the character, the catchy, energetic beat of the song, and how much I think Alfie would love the song, I went with Driving with the Top Down from the Iron Man soundtrack!

Sascha Ton van Twilhaar – Given his princely nature and his clothing and theming, it definitely had to be something with a sort of Persian theming. It had to be slow and sensual and charming so I kind of am heavily leaning towards Babak Afshar’s Ghesseh Dou Mahi for Sascha!

Sven – It’s the Sonic the Hedgehog theme, in particular the Sonic X theme, and we all know why!

Cole – Cole is yandere to the highest degree. He’s more than a little unhinged and so fixated on Marshmallow. It’s confirmed in game he stalks Marshmallow and everyone around them and I definitely have to go with Every Breath You Take by The Police, even if it is super obvious!

#fandom prompt #tumblr word count sucks!

[novel-blogs]

Genshin Impact Sells Jars on the Tivat Planet

During a recent visit to the tivat continent, I was surprised to find that Genshin Impact has a store selling jars. I asked the owner about it and she told me that she has a few jars, but not many. I told her that I would try to visit her store to see what she had in stock. She agreed to let me come and pick out a jar to sell. She was very nice and told me about the history of the jars and how she sells them. I was very happy to be able to visit her store.

Kujo Saura left a jar

Among the hundreds of billions of gypsums found on the Tivat continent, one particular jar of the stuff caught the attention of the illustrious Lin Mo. During his brief tenure as the mascot of the Tivat Empire, he was a whirlwind of fun and frolics, and left his mark on the map one way or another. Not long after that, he ascended the throne of the sexiest man in a jar, and tidied up the place, natch. It was the kudos of the aforementioned Lin Mo that prompted his mate to inquire about his aforementioned exploits. The following week, the duo set out to the Tivat tepee and were not disappointed. They were greeted by a well-oiled machine and a jovial host. During the process, they learned that the Tivat Empire was a veritable goldmine. The only snag is that the jars of yums are locked up in their respective shackles.

Lin Mo left a jar

Whether or not you're a big fan of the afore mentioned Tianquan Star or the aforementioned cyborg, the jar aint gonna take you down - or at least make you go haywire. However, a quick trawl through the city's maze like streets will have you feeling like you've traveled to a different universe. The best part is, you'll find a plethora of small business owners willing to share their wares with you - and yours truly. As you can imagine, this is the golden era of business networking. The perks are aplenty, and the rewards are well deserved. It's a shame the city's many restaurants are a little too expensive for your dsh, but that's a different story. Besides, you can always find someone to share a meal with, and at the same time, you can snag a nice round of golf.

Kujo Saura's jar

During Genshin Impact 2.1, a new item, Crown of Insight, will be introduced. This item can be acquired through events and is vital to maxing out Sara's talents. It is only available through Limited Time Events.

Kujo Saura is a respected opponent. She is the adopted daughter of the Kujou Clan, and she is loyal to the Tenryou Commission. She is a four star Electro Bow character, and her best function is as a support DPS. She has the ability to perform up to five consecutive shots with her bow, and her Aimed Shot is more precise. She also accumulates crackling lightning on her arrowhead. She can shrink Haizhidao if attacked. She is part of the Steam Bird Newspaper, and writes about knowledge of astrology and astrology.

Kuok Sahara's presence in Liyue is good news for Coral Palace Xinhai. This means that the cognate’s soldiers are on par with the resistance army. It also means that people in Liyue will not be attacked. It is a good idea for Coral Palace Xinhai to move to Inawi.

Kujo Saura's presence in Liyue means that the shogunate is no longer the only soul figure in the shogunate. There are other people who are important to Liyue, such as Captain Beidou. These people will help people in Liyue deal with problems.

[reversecreek]

“Uh-huh, that’s it, baby. Lil’ more on the left. Just a sprinklin’.” Smoke coiling off the bonfire like it was imitating Stevie’s hips, her parent’s backyard party was in full, roaring swing -- she’d taken to dancing in the light of the flickering flames, furling her hands left and right mid air in a slow, sensuously unique take on hula dancing. She’d once done the same in the sanitary products aisle of a supermarket and been asked to leave, but it totally wasn’t her fault that she was vibing to the aura of a nearby bald man, something erotically depressing about his wrinkled tortoise eyes. One of her foster brother’s kids -- who, frankly, shouldn’t have been attending an event where a few tents down one had been designated for hotboxing potent skunk -- was diligently pressing clumps of torn grass to Moss’ upper lip, slathered with eyelash glue, where he’d drifted off against a log, dared into devouring the entirety of an unfathomably strong edible by her father and inevitably paying the price. “Oh, he’s really comin’ together.” A little spin, braids spraying out in the firelight as she continued her dancing -- she’d spent some time playing with Moss’ hair as she smoked, earlier, kissed the pad of his thumb before losing herself to the shimmy of a tambourine, unable to remain in one spot for too long even if there was something charming about watching him snooze. “We’ll make a man outta him yet. I can see the vision.” A sneeze saw the young boy’s grass collection go flying, a dandelion landing in Moss’ shaggy mane, and finally he stirred at the commotion, prompting a lazy smile to unfurl on Stevie’s lips like a flower budding open. Swaying along barefoot, she cupped at her nephew’s chin, thumbed the dimple on it gently, then nodded that he could go. “Oh, wow.” Attention on Moss, then. “Enchante, good sir. It’s a pleasure,” came with her hand limply extended, wrist slack, waiting for him to fetch it up and press her knuckles a kiss. “You look like someone I had in my ass once, but... yum, hairier.” A perk of her eyebrows, clearly indicating the grass her nephew had been gluing to his face in place of a moustache. Feel like pure shit, just want her back. She’d sent the image to Moss without elaboration, once, assuming he’d read her brainwaves. “Anyone ever told you that, before? I bet you get it all the time.” @petalites​

#stevie | moss #stevie | all #smiles at u w hand on hip despite the fact u never asked for this..... #i never meant to start a war.... i jst wanted u to let me in..... #drugs tw

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Ok, so looking after this kid is a lot more full on than I had anticipated, mainly because there’s actually two kids, not one, as they decided last minute to leave the two year old with me as well. They’re both good kids, but the oldest is six, heavily traumatised from their last home, and completely nonverbal as well as behind in their education because of said trauma, and the two year old is....well.... two. Because of this, they need a lot of attention, so I’m not sure how much time I’ll get to myself to write things up while I’m looking after them for the next few days.

That said, one of the Darlings who commented on my last post, asked that I ask the kids for some prompt ideas. Given the circumstances though, communication is a little difficult, so after a bit of a bizarre hybrid game of charades with the six year old, and a few enthusiastically thrown toys and waving arms from the two year old, here is your ever so compelling list of prompts.

TWO

Frog, ow

TV, oh no

Egg, yum?

*dramatic gasp*, big, big, big, whoa

AAAAAHHHHHH, *pretends to be dead*

BOO!, *delighted cackling*

SIX

Desk, lamp, tree, explosion

Colouring in colouring book, *surprised gasp*, villain appears but they’re a good villain (very important), villain takes boy and flies away, they both eat fancy cake

Book, sneaky ninja, many explosions

Sad prince, castle on fire, sad prince sneaks away to really big forest, sad prince is now a happy prince, he has a very nice dragon

Bow and arrow, mean man, *mimes hiding and slowly pulling back the arrow*, mean man dies, cheering

Hungry monster hair, feed it cake, happy monster hair

Trees with mouths, screaming and running

Bad king hurts prince, bad king dies, prince eats bad king and gains his power, prince becomes new king not like bad king, everyone’s happy

Good luck, and have fun Darling ones.

#write-it-motherfuckers #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing #prompt #story prompt #story prompts #story #prompts #not my prompt #does this count as a submission? #Submissions #submission #prompt meme #I forget the other tags and don't have time to look them up sorry #death mention #cannibalism mention #murder mention #implied child abuse

[makeitp1nk]

Nothing says DOMESTIC to me more than pets. So I went a little wild with this one XD

Snitch

For @domaystic prompt looking out the window

Drarry | Rated G | CW - FLUFF | 447 words

The smell of steak wakes me from my post-walk nap, and I run to the kitchen. Daddy is a good daddy–he’ll give me a bite. I run circles around him, and he laughs. Maybe if I sit quietly he’ll call me a good boy and give me a snack–yes, I’ll do that.

“Good boy, here, have a bite.” I am so happy my tail is wagging wildly, and oh! Yum! Steak! “Dad will be home soon, you know we have to wait for him for dinner.”

DAD! Daddy rubs my head, and it’s so nice. I love daddy. But DAD is coming home, and when he does we can have DINNER.

I run to the window to watch for him. 

A man walks by, but it’s not DAD. Too short.

A lady walks by. 

Another man, not DAD. Too wide.

I start getting impatient so I move my toys from the bedroom to the sitting room, one by one. It makes me feel better. 

Sometimes DAD comes through the hot place, so I sit in front of it and wait for a bit. But it’s more fun to wait by the window, so I go wait there. It smells so good, so I run back to daddy for snuggles and a snack. He snuggles, but no snack. 

GET HOME DAD. I do a lap around the flat and move some toys around for good measure. 

Back to the window. More people–YES. That means DAD should be home soon. So we can have DINNER.

I sit up, alert. One of these humans has to be DAD. 

Oh oh oh, is that him? Tall! Thin! Hair like mine! That weird thing with the mouth! DAD! I bark, I run to the kitchen, run back, run circles around the living room, DAD! DINNER!

The door opens and I pounce, DAD! He stumbles back on the closed door.

“Silly Muggle dog,” he mumbles grumpily, but his mouth isn’t all weird anymore. I get on my tippy toes and try to kiss his face, but I only reach his neck. He laughs. Daddy laughs a lot, but DAD laughs less. I love making DAD laugh. He slinks to the floor and cuddles me, and I’m so happy I’m barking and my tail is wagging and we’re having DINNER soon! I’m so excited I kiss and kiss and kiss his face. He’s scrunching his nose, but I can smell the happy on him–much better smelling than when he walked through the door.

“Snitch! Give dad a break!” Daddy yells, so I run over to him instead. He looks over at DAD. “Tough day, love?”

“‘s much better now,” DAD says. He's smiling now!

#drarry #domaystic2022 #snitch is a white golden retriever y'all #p1nk writes

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. ���Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

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[ilyasorokinn]

can I request #26 from the kissing prompt list (giggling while kissing) w Barzy if it’s not already taken? 🥰🤗

STICK TO YOUR DAY JOB

26. "giggling while kissing" (from this prompt list)

okay, i'm a glee fan so i can make fun of the show (not to say non-glee fans can't make fun of the show. gosh, this sounds bad. you get my point.)

your biggest guilty pleasure tv show was glee, and honestly, it wasn't bad in comparison to mat's. like, the man watched the bachelor, but that's beside the point.

so, every once in a while, you and mat would sit on the couch and watch a few episodes. it was your favorite way to end a stressful day.

this day was no different. things were tough, so you ended up on the couch with a bowl full of popcorn and a blanket draped across both of your laps as rachel sang yet another solo.

"how many solos is this?" mat asked.

"like the 20th. and that's not even skimming the surface," you replied.

"geez." mat threw his head back in annoyance.

"don't worry. you get used to it by season 2, then you kind of start to enjoy them." you shrugged.

"how many times have you watched this show?" mat asked.

"too many," you answered as if you were a soldier talking about your experience at war.

"i can tell." he nodded, turning his attention back to the screen where rachel was continuing to belt out the last note in faithfully with finn.

once the episode was over, you reached forward for the remote to watch the next episode, but mat quickly and swiftly stopped you, "i love you, you know that. but if we watch any more glee, i might go shove my face in the oven." he joked.

"fine, what do you want to watch?" you asked.

"anything but this." he swiped through the different shows on Netflix before landing on the great british baking show, "do we have to add baker to your resume?" you joked.

"i don't think that's a good idea." he shook his head.

"will you bake something for me?" you asked.

"no." he shook his head with a laugh.

"oh, come on," you begged.

"no, i'm not gonna bake for you."

"why not? what if it's good?" you suggested.

"i can guarantee you it's not gonna be good," he told you.

"will you just bake me something and i'll tell you if it's good or not?" you asked.

he hesitated, considering all his options, "fine. but if it's bad i get to tell you "i told you so."

"deal." you nodded, a satisfied smile coming onto your face.

over the next two hours, you could hear pans clattering together, mat cursing silently to himself, a few french words popping in here and there, aggressive mixing, and all-around ruckus.

after two hours, mat came out into the living room holding a plated, what looked like, a cupcake. he didn't burn anything or set off the smoke detector, but it still didn't look edible.

your brain was now regretting your previous actions in begging him to bake for you, but the smile he was giving you was something you couldn't deny, "yum." you flashed him a smile, taking the plate from him.

"dig in." he sat down next to you.

you looked at the cupcake, considering all your options. you didn't even look at mat because his smile was so big and looking at him would sway your decision even more.

so, you took the rode that would probably end up killing your stomach, and you took a bite out of the cupcake. you chewed for a little while, internally wincing at the taste, "so? what do you think?"

"well..." you continued to chew to try and form words and an answer, "it's, uh, it's good." you nodded.

"really?" he asked, a happy smile on his face.

"yeah." you nodded, wanting this whole interaction to be over so you could go spit it out on the bathroom or something.

he broke out in laughter, "y/n, stop lying. it's nice and all, but i, for sure, will not be going to you for your opinion."

"what? why not?" you asked.

"y/n, it's pretty bad."

"oh, thank god." you dropped the thing haphazardly in his lap and grabbed a napkin off the coffee table and all-but threw it up, "stick to your day job, barzal." you patted him on the back.

"hey, it wasn't that bad," he spoke.

"yes, it is. i wouldn't feed that to my worst enemy." you pointed to it.

he took a bite of it, and spit it out, "okay, you're right. i'll stick to skating and hitting pucks." he nodded, setting the plate on the coffee table next to your napkin.

you broke out in giggles, causing him to smile as well. he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled your mouth to his. the smile on your faces didn't disappear, and when you pulled away, the giggles didn't end.

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