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tropicalcryptid · 6 months

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Ok so She-Ra pulled such a great hat trick with Hordak's characterization, and I LOVE it

One of my favorite things about 2018 She-Ra is Hordak's story and development (and Entrapdak cough but that's not the point of this particular post), and the cleverest thing is that so much of it is actually being set up and told to us in seasons 1 and 2 before we even realize that that's what's happening.

When we first see Hordak in the show, he's giving "generic evil overlord" vibes. Garden-variety baddie. Maybe a little more reasonable than some and clearly capable of long-term thinking, but that just serves to make him intimidating. Everything about him--the way he runs his empire, his armor, his color scheme, his minion, his Villainous Eye Makeup(TM), even his name--are all projecting to the audience "yup, Acme Bad Guy here. Move right along."

But then, backstory. And everything snaps into focus. Not only is it one of the first big oh SHIT moments of the show, where we suddenly zoom out and realize that there is SO much more going on than we realized--it's also the start of the audience seeing Hordak as a character rather than an archetype. Suddenly we realize that he's not conquering Etheria because he wants power, or hates happiness and sparkles, or whatever--he's doing it out of a desperate attempt to prove his worth to his brother/creator/god. This moment where Hordak lets Entrapta in is also the moment the show lets us in on what makes our favorite spacebat tick.

On top of that, we've also seen him bonding with Entrapta and opening up to this person that he respects and trusts...probably the only person he's ever respected or trusted apart from Prime. And she's Etherian--someone of a lower species, someone he's supposed to subjugate, someone who he has been raised and trained and programmed and mind-controlled into believing is below him in every way.

But instead she's brilliant and creative and mesmerizing. She's not afraid of him, and she's fascinated with his work. For the first time since being abandoned by Prime, Hordak finally has someone that he can talk to, who is on his level and both understands and cares about the science! (because he is a giant nerd). She's kind to him, a mere defect. And it just sends his whole worldview into a spin, and that's all before--

Bam, mans is a goner. Entrapta's "Imperfections are beautiful" comment punches right through all the toxic bs that Hordak has been steeped in his entire life. You can see on his face here--I think it's the moment Hordak fell in love with Entrapta, but this is also the face of a spacebat reevaluating his entire worldview. If Entrapta, who is amazing, believes something different from Prime...what does that mean? If Entrapta, who is brilliant, believes that he is worth something, and that she herself is a failure...

Well. We know what happens after that, and how Hordak begins to doubt, and eventually fights back against Prime (and remembers his love for Entrapta after TWO mind wipes help my heart ack). But we also get to see what life in the Galactic Horde looks like: the only life Hordak ever knew before coming to Etheria.

It's not nice.

It's really not nice.

Prime operates in a very specific way, and we learn a lot about it in season 5. Prime expects complete obedience, devotion and worship from his clones. He allows no individuality from his subjects, not even a name. Failure or deviations are punished, mind-wiped, or destroyed. We even learn from Wrong Hordak that facial expressions are considered a privilege reserved for Prime (apart from, presumably, expressions of rapture caused by being around Prime).

And once we learn all of this, suddenly thinking about season 1 Hordak becomes very interesting indeed. The time we spend with the Galactic Horde and Prime throws absolutely everything that we know about Hordak into a whole new context. Now all those traits that made him a generic villain are actually hugely effective characterization! And what that characterization is telling us is that Hordak had already moved much farther away from Prime than we (or, probably, he) had realized, even long before he met Entrapta.

Horde Prime does not allow his underlings to have names, personalities, or any differences of appearance. Not only does Hordak allow this among his own troops, he chose a name for himself as well! Season 5 tells us that his very name is an act of blasphemy against his god. And yet Hordak took one for himself, and that name is part of the core identity he is able to hold on to when rebelling against Prime.

Horde Prime cast Hordak out when he showed signs of physical imperfections. Hordak not only keeps Imp (who is by all appearances a failed clone or similar experiment) around, he treats Imp more gently than we see him treat anybody or anything before Entrapta. Imp is not simply "generic evil guy's minion," he is proof of Hordak's capacity for compassion, and evidence that Hordak cannot bring himself to cast aside "defects" as easily as Prime. Considering where Hordak came from, Imp's existence is a huge, flashing neon sign telling the audience this guy here is better than the hell that molded him, and we don't even realize it until 4 seasons after it's been shown to us!

Very cool, ND.

There's more, though. Hordak's red and black color scheme? His dark eye makeup and lipstick? Very Evil Overlord chic. But nope! Actually these are actually expressions of individuality on a level that Hordak knows would be abhorrent to Prime!

Reading between the lines, I see this as Hordak desperately trying to reconcile two diametrically opposed beliefs in his head: (1) devotion to Prime, whose approval he desperately craves, and (2) maintaining some degree of unique personhood, of Hordak, from which to draw strength. Because a failed, defective clone cannot survive on a hostile world, cut off from the hivemind and from Prime's light. A failed clone cannot create an empire to offer Prime as tribute, nor build a spacetime portal from scraps and memory to call Prime back. A failed clone cannot create cybernetic armor to keep his hurting, weakened body alive; to force himself to keep going no matter what, to fight through the pain and the doubt by sheer force of will.

But maybe Hordak can.

And so there it is. Hordak had plenty of time to gain and explore his individuality while separated from Prime, but I think the reason he did it so effectively (while still deluding himself that Prime would forgive him for these little sins, if only Hordak could prove his value) is because he had to.

Wrong Hordak gained his individuality surrounded by kind, quirky people who took care of him; Hordak was ripped from the hivemind by Prime himself and had to fight for his survival against all odds. And that produced a dangerous and damaging foe for Etheria. But it also produced the one clone with the strength of will to defy Prime himself.

This is long and rambling, but ultimately my point is that 1) I love Hordak, and 2) I love love love love that the show was so clever about his characterization. We learn so much about him and how much progress he's already made in breaking from his psycho abusive cult upbringing, and we don't even recognize it until the show wants us to. Hordak had come so far, all on his own, before he met Entrapta. She just helped push him over the edge and finally realize (at least consciously) that Prime's worldview might not be the correct one.

Idk, I just don't know if I've ever seen all the trappings of Basic 80's Villain(TM) so successfully subverted, where looking back 4 seasons later is actually a smack in the face with the "effective character building" stick. Amazing.

#spop #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #hordak #entrapdak #entrapta #horde prime #Spacebat #Deep character analysis #Gotta love clever writing #Seriously I could go on about this show for ages #I just love the characterization for everyone but especially Hordak #Best spacebat #I mean I love Wrong Hordak too but you know

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starchaserdreams · 1 year

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Wolfstar Microfic: Cupid

“I’m not dancing, Sirius.”

“C’mon, Moony, please??”

Sirius was having fun losing himself dancing in the middle of the partygoers, but he couldn’t help but feel himself distracted by the one person in the room who was unwilling to dance.

“Do it for me, please?”

Remus rolled his eyes.

Sirius would have to figure out another tactic, since this obviously wasn’t working. He tried to think through his firewhiskey addled brain, tried to come up with something, anything that might work on Remus.

Finally, it hit him.

“I’ll let you have my leather jacket!”

Remus’ eyes widened.

“I know you like it, I’ve seen you eyeing it sometimes, you can have it!”

Remus shook his head, looking bemused, but there was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks that Sirius hadn’t noticed before.

“I don’t want to wear it, I like it on you. I mean, it looks good on you. You wear it.”

Remus took a long sip from his drink while Sirius thought through those words. Remus held the drink up for so long Sirius wondered if he was trying to drown in it.

“Okay, I’ll wear it!” he said, grinning.

Remus shook his head, but from the hint of a smile on his face, Sirius could tell he’d won.

Sirius flipped up the collar and knew he looked cool doing it.

“So you’ll dance with me right? We’ll look cool: me, in my jacket, and you, with your hair.”

Remus’ eyes widened and his hand went to his hair reflexively.

“What’s wrong with my hair??”

Sirius grinned. “Nothing, like I said, it’s cool. You’ve been running your hands through it so many times it’s all tousled and crazy, kinda like sex hair.”

“Sirius!” Remus responded, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“It’s sexy,” Sirius said with a wink, running his hand through it once. “So you’ll dance with me?”

“One song,” Remus bit out, seeming overwhelmed. He was staring at Sirius, and Sirius could tell he had him rattled.

Sirius grinned, feeling like he’d won. He liked Remus like this.

The song changed, and the firewhiskey in Sirius started to dance along immediately.

“The Cupid Shuffle!” Remus looked up at the ceiling as though he could will the song to change with his mind.

Sirius shook his head. “Nuh uh, you said you would, c’mon, one dance!”

Remus allowed himself to be led into the crowd that was forming into lines to do the dance. Sirius stood next to him and grinned, very entertained by Remus’ resigned attempts at a dance.

(Down, down, do your dance, do your dance)

Remus alternated between giving it his best shot, and shooting Sirius looks that were almost wicked. Sirius felt hot under his collar each time, though he couldn’t imagine why.

(We got a brand new dance)

The cupid shuffle was not a hard dance; it more or less repeated the same five steps a hundred times. So there was no excuse for Sirius to trip up and step wrong when Remus looked at him like that - and there was certainly no excuse for it to happen three times.

(To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right)

Even with Remus throwing looks at him, and the chaos of Sirius’ heart at the moment, Sirius couldn’t help but feel like the moment was perfect

(To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left)

Sirius threw his head back and laughed when the world seemed just right.

(Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick)

Remus tripped over something - who knew what, possibly just the alcohol he’d had - and fell to the ground, but he was laughing even so.

Sirius reached out a hand to pull him up, but Remus yanked him down, and Sirius fell directly on top of him.

Remus’ look of shock was immediate; he hadn’t intended for this to happen, hadn’t really thought that Sirius would fall.

(A let me see ya do the Cupid)

But Sirius didn’t let go. He was suddenly aware of just how much he didn’t want to let go.

The dance seemed to go on around them, so even though they were on the side of a dance floor, it felt like they were on an island of their own.

(A let me see ya do the Cupid, shuffle the Cupid Cupid shuffle)

Remus still hadn’t said anything. And Sirius didn’t want him to.

Instead of using his words, Sirius brought his hand up to hold the side of Remus’ face, very gently.

(Now let me see you do the)

Remus’ eyes widened for only a fraction of a second before he seemed to get the message, and he surged up to kiss Sirius.

It was amazing. Sirius got absolutely lost in it.

(Cupid shuffle)

Somewhere in the background, Sirius heard a wolf whistle. But he didn’t take his eyes off Remus, who looked rather pleased with him.

And the feeling was very mutual.

@wolfstarmicrofic

On AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44982076/chapters/113184919

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rexscanonwife · 2 years

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Some soft Kepler and Rex bonding!! 🥺Based on a bit from this short fic written by my talented and excellent best friend (under the cut!) @not-todd86!

As Brea entered the room with her padawan learner, Rex stood stiffly at attention, intensely aware of his rank in the chain of command, terrified of slipping up in a room full of his superiors. Brea shot him an irreverent salute, adding on a playful flourish of the wrist and a smirk, directly challenging Rex’s serious, uptight facade. Rex frowned; he didn’t understand why she couldn't take this all more seriously. If the Jedi Council found out, she’d be cast out of the order. As for him? Well, he wasn’t really sure WHAT would happen to him. Dishonorable discharge? Decommissioning? Best case scenario he’d be stripped of his rank and demoted.

He watched her nervously from across the room as she conversed with some of the other generals in attendance. I really do love her… he thought hopelessly to himself. He wasn’t exactly sure to what extent she returned his affections, given that they’d only just started to open up about their feelings for each other over the past few months. He still had some reservations, and he hoped, perhaps, that Brea wasn’t foolish enough to throw away everything she’d worked for just for him. He knew his place. He wasn’t sure she knew, though.

“You’re staring.” he heard a voice say next to him all of a sudden. He looked down. Kepler, Brea’s padawan, had been standing next to him the entire time, arms crossed. Rex suddenly felt a little embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Kepler…. Sh-shouldn’t you, er, be over next to Master Brea?” Rex prompted. Kepler shrugged.

“Yeah, sure, probably.”

“I thought the whole point of this little soiree was for the Masters to show off their Padawans and swap war stories.”

“What’s there to show? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly what you would call ‘impressive’, by anyone’s standards. Least of all the Jedi order.” Kepler replied bitterly. Rex’s expression shifted slightly; he looked troubled.

“Master Brea didn’t say that to you, I’m sure.”

“Well, no, but she doesn’t have to.” “Listen kid, I may not know much, but I do know that your Master believes the best of people. She thinks very highly of you; she knows you’ve got a lot of potential.”

“Potential isn’t the same thing as skill, Captain. You know that. I mean, who would you rather have in a combat setting, me, or Ahsoka?” Kepler challenged him, gesturing across the room to where Anakin and Ahsoka were standing, holding a conversation with Master Plo. Ahsoka radiated confidence; she was lean, agile, and smart as a whip. She carried herself like a Jedi knight in the making. Kepler, on the other hand, looked perpetually as though he had just dragged himself out of bed and was fighting off the remnants of a particularly bad cold.

“Um…” Rex said, trying to think of a way to not be rude.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Kepler sighed, looking slightly defeated, but not surprised. “Y’know, everybody keeps telling me that this is what I’m meant to do, but I’m not so sure… Do you ever feel like maybe the thing everyone tells you you’re supposed to be isn’t what you were really built for?” Rex pursed his lips; he wasn’t sure what to say to that. His eyes were drawn back towards Brea. She was talking politely with Master Windu. Rex focused in on the details of her face; her eyes, the way the light danced in them, her hair, framing her face in soft, loose waves, the way she smiled…

“I was built to go to war. I don’t think I know any other way to be.” Rex replied sadly. Kepler looked him up and down. He followed Rex’s gaze, and frowned.

“I bet you’ve thought about it, though. I know she has.” Kepler replied. Rex could feel his chest seize up. His face flushed with red-hot embarrassment.

“That’s, t-that’s not, I don’t--”

“Look, I know you got a thing for her. I might be kind of a screw-up but I’m not stupid. Like I said before, you’ve been staring.”

“Kepler--” Rex said in a warning tone, keenly aware of the fact that several prominent members of the Jedi council were within earshot of this conversation.

“Oh, what, you’re worried about them? Yeah, nah, I wouldn’t. They’ve got bigger fish to fry. I mean, they still haven’t even noticed that Master Skywalker has been engaged in ‘aggressive negotiations’ with Senator Amidala for at least a couple a years now.” Kepler explained, rolling his eyes. Rex looked stricken. He could feel his cheeks turning bright red.

“W-where did you hear--” Rex stammered, struggling to keep his voice even.

“When everybody ignores you, you get real good at listening. And they’re not even good at hiding it.” Kepler replied flatly. They both lapsed into an intensely awkward silence. Finally, Rex cleared his throat.

“Listen, Kepler, I dunno if this is a, er, appropriate conversation, for us, to be having….”

“Just… do me a favor, kay? You said it yourself. She sees the best in people. She’s nice to me. She tells me I’m good, even when I know I'm not. Just… please… don’t do anything to hurt her…” Kepler mumbled softly, gripping his sides. Rex’s expression softened.

“I would never. That’s a promise.”

“You have to survive. For her sake. I know you think you’re just another soldier, but you know she doesn’t see you that way.”

“I know…” Rex felt a pang in his chest. He forced a wry smile. “Y’know, kid, Ahsoka may be a model Padawan, anyone’s first choice in a combat setting, but you? You can read people. That’s not nothing. The power to observe, take in information; that’s a skill. Personally, I’m willing to bet you’re well ahead of some of these so-called Masters, at least in that regard.” He mused, ruffling Kepler’s hair. Kepler snickered quietly, lightly slapping Rex’s hand away.

“It’s… nice, talking with you, Captain…” he said, sheepishly. Rex smiled warmly.

“Call me Rex, kiddo.”

taglist: @me-myself-and-my-fos @void-kissed @cherry-bomb-ships @squips-ship @mouseship @the-bellhopper @discountwife @bizarrescribblez @gummydeadite @tex-treasures @samsbeckett @sosoftandsweet @sunnysideships

#artfarts #self insert #self ship #platonic self ship #familial self ship #is it right to tag this as self ship? i mean im not in the pic but i am in the fic i guess!!#star wars oc #padawan oc #captain rex #the clone wars #sghkg you guys ARE obligated to look at this!!#my sweet angel padawan being kind of a sadboy :'3 and rex being supportive!!#ive been wanting to post this for a little bit i love this little fic with all my heart!!#you gotta read ben's writing its so natural and witty like #the way he writes feels very clever if that makes sense #hes always had a great hold on dialogue #anyway im exhausted but ive been working on these things for a few days now #i just wanted yall to see Them

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hyaciiintho · 7 months

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🌸｡*ﾟ+. Gonna share "P"s bio here below the cut since I don't really have his google doc put together yet (I don't feel like editing colors and graphics and all that right now, but I literally have all this typed up already dfgshjk). I wanted to share though and add to my "Muse List" tag because technically he's pretty much ready to go ✨

I was vague in this, however, there are still heavy spoilers for the game in terms of who P is!!! If you're not wanting to be spoiled, don't read, not even the basic bio on top because? Spoilers????? xD but yeah, here's my new golden child, he's joined the ranks of Link & Riku, and that's saying A LOT right there. The 3rd golden child 💙 I'm excited to write him with others!

Name: Goes by “Carlo Geppetto” Nicknames/Titles: Geppetto’s Puppet, Puppet, Clever One, Doll Face (Only one person is allowed to call him that) Age: ??? (Physically appears somewhere between 18-23) D.O.B: September 19th (Virgo ♍) Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality/Romanticism: Asexual; Demiromantic

PHYSICAL Height: 5’3” Weight: 310 lbs Hair: Grey Eyes: Gunmetal blue Skin: Fair, smattered in freckles

ASSOCIATED FLOWER(S) White Stargazer Lilies

MAIN TAG VERSE | MAIN 🌸 P

FAVORITES COLOR(S): Light blue & Gold SOUND(S): Music & a cat’s meow ANIMAL(S): Cats

By morning, he was born, awoken within the confines of a solitary train in the midst of a city overrun by puppets. With only a voice as compass, and a puppet guide dressed as lamplight for company, the dark-haired puppet boy followed directions without complaint. There was no greater purpose than to prove as useful to the one who had awoken him, and to his creator– his Father, Geppetto.

There was kindness in the old man’s eyes and something else entirely he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was nice though, being spoken to with such warmth and gentility. Something within him stirred, if only for but a moment.

His Springs were reacting.

By afternoon, he found himself changing, memories of a life someone used to lead beginning to weigh on his mind more heavily than any physical object he was made to carry. The name Carlo whispered to him in his mind by a voice that belonged to someone who was dear to him– or were they dear to “Carlo”? The distinction was hard to make, and only grew harder as the hours ticked by. The change wouldn’t only alter his form of thought, but physically alter him as well, what was once short and unruly hair now having grown to his shoulders in silken tresses.

His father seemed upset– The puppet couldn’t understand at all as to why.

His Ergo was whispering.

By evening he had felt many new emotions– or were they just being relearned? The feelings coursing through his body, pain that made his mechanical heart ache, lifelike eyes sting with the need to shed something from them– but what? Happiness that rumbled sound from a place within him he never knew existed prior, and anger that caused his body to grow hot from rage. With every new ? bond he formed, he felt himself change; With every loss he endured, he felt himself grow. With every memory he could recall, the puppet boy felt Carlo stir deep within his heart.

His hands were covered with blood, oil, and grime– he wasn’t ignorant to what that meant.

Not anymore.

He felt warmth.

By the next morning, he had been reborn, no longer the naïve puppet boy from yesterday’s rainy morning, and not quite Carlo from those days when he had been alive. By next morning, he was changed– both and yet neither. He would keep the name, though. Carlo was who he was at the core of everything, even if he was hardly anything like the Carlo who used to be, but neither was he the newborn tool having stumbled out of that train anymore, either.

He was something new, a collection of memories and experiences meshed into one, giving way to someone else entirely. His hair had greyed through the power of ergo coursing through his body, its length being allowed to grow even longer. Though his face still remained youthful, his eyes told the stories of, not just one, but two lifetimes-- and they were tired, if not relieved; There was pain but there was also hope.

'--an Ergo puppet can have a second life and become another kind of human--' He just needed now to decide just what that second life meant for him, now.

His heart was pounding.

#🌸｡*ﾟ+. MUSE LIST #I just -clenches my fists- love him so much... my blorbo... my son... I adopted him... he has a new father now >:|#I really liked how I wrote this out though... I did the tee hee haha clever game reference in how I wrote it #and it'll go over literally everyone else's head except for people who've played the game LMAO #but I don't care I love it and I love him and I'm so so so obsessed and excited to write him with others!!#I gotta do Romeo and Gemini next!! I'm excited to write them too with other P writers!!!!! ♡#ESPECIALLY Gemini tbh like I'm stupidly excited to write Gemini for some reason how did I come to love the cricket lamp so much???#Who knows but we're here now LOL #Anyways hope y'all have a good day/night!!

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ky-yk · 10 months

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stand-in love (jwy x f!reader)

genre: fluff, angst || word count: 1k

author’s note: had this wony x reader fic sitting in my drafts completely empty bc i lost the original idea but thanks to this amazing (AND GAY) episode of love bites suddenly i can write again

you were known for a lot of things.

approachable, charming, and kind, you were everyone’s friend.

you were also quite clever: near perfect test scores, a continuous slew exemplary outputs used by teachers as “examples” for others (not without the scowls of some), and the eloquence that even the brightest minds envied.

you were a rational person. every move you made was calculated.

but you could not, for the life of you, remember what the hell was going through your head when you asked your best friend to be your girlfriend.

for practice.

in your messed-up head, it made perfect sense! you'd never been with a girl before, so why not practice for the real thing? you'd hate to be anything less than the best -- even more so as a girlfriend.

that would just be embarrassing.

so one day, while you and wonyoung were hanging out after class, you decided to pop the question.

"do you wanna go out with me?"

"huh?"

"f--for practice!"

nice save, y/n.

you stumbled over your words and waved your hands around as you tried to explain. "i mean, i've never been with a girl in that way before, you know? i don't wanna mess it up!"

she continued to eye you inquisitively, putting her fork down and leaning back against her seat. "and you think that going on a practice date is gonna help you?"

"it sounds stupid, i know," you sighed, putting your own fork down and leaning back into your seat.

"no no, continue. i wanna know where you were going with this," she urged you with an amused smile.

"you think that me dying alone is funny, wony?! man, what friend you are," you rolled your eyes at the girl while crossing your arms.

she looked at you, eyes wide and jaw dropped in disbelief. "i--didn't even say that?! wah, the gall of this one." it was her turn to roll her eyes.

you shook your head in amusement. "well, i was just thinking that it wouldn't be a good idea to go into it blind, you know? it's like a test; you've gotta be prepared!" you reasoned out.

"you're never beating the overthinker allegations, are you?"

"hey, it's a valid concern!" you semi-yelled defensively.

"i didn't say it was! it's just..."

"just?"

"a little overkill, don't you think? you can't just become the best girlfriend ever by studying or something -- it's not a test," she says.

you frown. "if you don't want to, you could've just said--"

"when did i say that, though?" she cuts you off.

"wait, so you would?"

"i mean, i don't see why not," she shrugs. "besides, you're paying, aren't you?" she asks cheekily.

"in your dreams, jang," you shot back.

"what date you are," she mumbled. you felt a small smile take over your features hearing the pout in her voice.

"anyways, just tell me when and where."

that was six months ago.

and now here you both were, cuddled up on the corner of your friend's couch while everyone else was seated around the coffee table playing some board game.

you looked over at your fake girlfriend, admiring her as she laughed at your friends' shenanigans before you poked her cheek. that seemed to catch her attention as she hums and looks at you like a puppy.

"i'm going to grab something from the kitchen, you want anything?"

"just a water, love," she replied.

"ne," you said taking the blanket that was covering you both off your lap and laying it on her.

once you were out of earshot, the group turned to wonyoung, faces ranging from confusion to surprise.

"love?" rei questioned.

"are you guys actually together, now?" leeseo asked excitedly, prompting gaeul to scoff.

"what do you mean, 'together'? i don't even like girls like that," wonyoung replied.

"sounded a lil too defensive, don't you think?" liz questioned.

"guys, let's stop ganging up on wony," yujin sighed. "that's for her to figure out."

"figure what out?" you asked as you walked into the living room, a glass of water in hand. "here you go, by the way."

"how this game works, y/n," liz chimed in, pulling a new board game out from under the coffee table.

"you wanted to play, wony?" you asked as you took a seat on the arm of the couch, looking down at her.

"nope, was just curious," she answered before she pulled you back into her lap by the waist. "besides, who's gonna keep you warm?" she continued, craning her neck to look up at you, prompting gaeul to fake vomit in the background.

you watched the girls play, unaware of your best friend's stare.

no way did they think we were actually together, did they? are we really that convincing of a couple? i mean, y/n is lovely, that's for sure. she takes care of me well, she's funny, and she's just so cuddly!

best friends think of each other this way, don't they?

slowly but surely, the girls started resigning and heading to their bedrooms for the night, leaving you and wonyoung in the living room.

"well, wanna head in for the night, wony?"

"no, i just wanna stay here for a while," she whispered. you leaned closer to hear her.

"why are you whispering, we're the only ones here," you whispered back. you note the proximity: breaths mingling with each other, noses barely touching, and her long eyelashes that you could individually count.

you also notice how her breathing seemingly quickened.

"no reason," she says, before leaning up and connecting your lips -- only for a second, though.

her eyes were hooded as she looked up at your wide eyes. that must've snapped her back to reality because her own eyes went wide as she moved to push you off her lap.

"wait wait, wony," you urged her but not before she pushed you away.

"i'm sorry, y/n," she whispered before going into her room and leaving you standing wondering what the hell just happened.

#🐻 — ky writes #girl group imagines #ive imagines #ive x reader #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung #ive wonyoung #wonyoung x reader

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osakiharu · 1 year

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THEY FIND OUT YOU LIKE BEING PRAISED !!

[request]

content : gender neutral reader, fluff, this is sfw don’t get too excited y’all, independent!reader, reader is a uni student in draken’s, reader is independent but also quite self critical at times :(, rindou having blood all over his arms whoopsies, also me having rindou brainrot so i went a little crazy with his... i love him i can’t help it,

word count : around 500-600 each <3 little scenarios for this one hehe

characters : draken, rindou

notes : okay hi !! long time no see y’all, college is so so insane rn and m sorry for being so dead T^T this was actually a request but i have deleted it with my old requests in my inbox and i only kept the ones i moved to my drafts whoopsies </3 i hope this isn’t too bad and i hope i haven’t gotten rusty from not writing for a little but yeah have some rindou and draken as my apology <3 thankyou to dee for giving me a little help on this when i was brain dead mwah i luv u <3

˗ˏˋ DRAKEN

draken knew you always preferred to teach yourself things, to stick to your own way of studying, to not have anyone or anything interfere with your routine during exam season. he knows, without fail, you’ll always reject his proposal to help you, but eventually he finds there’s nothing he loves more than to see your cheeks redden at his praise for your work. even if you push him off and tell him to let you continue <3

“why don’t you let me help, baby? wouldn’t you get it done faster?” he mumbled into your hair before reaching forwards to take your notes from you. “i don’t need help, kenny, ‘m fine! ‘s not about doing it fast, anyways.” of course you were. even if the bags under your eyes and very few hours sleep you had under your belt said otherwise. a kiss was pressed to your cheek before he sat himself down in the chair next to you, resting his head on his crossed arms as he looked up at you. draken decided not to push you for let him help. “how’d y’r exam t’day go? know you were dreadin’ that one.” it’s sweet, you think, the way his eyelids seem to be getting harder to hold open but he’s probably still thinking up a plan to work his way around your stubbornness to get you into bed at a reasonable time.

“it was fine,” you put your notes down and turned to face him, “i finished with time to spare, too, so i don’t think i did that bad.” of course you did well. you always do, draken thought with a smile. “c’mere.” he nodded his head to the side, signalling for you to sit in his lap. his embrace was comforting, warm, too warm, even, for your tired state couldn’t help but relax into it like you’d been longing to all day. “gettin’ tired, angel?” draken could practically feel you melting into him as he rubbed up and down your back. “mhm… but i gotta finish up, kenny, c’mon.” your attempt at moving back to your original chair was futile as draken pulled you back down into a gentle kiss.

“hmm… but my baby’s so smart, ain’t ya?” he spoke against your lips, and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks reddened at his comment. “don’t think you need t’do anymore when you’re already doing so good… think ya need to come to bed with me ‘n’ get some sleep, hm?” he could feel your smile against his cheek as he kissed anywhere he could without you shying away from him. draken almost chuckled at your actions. he’d always known you to be an independent person, dealing with everything yourself, and though he was no stranger to your stresses and anxieties, seeing you this flustered was rare to him. fuck, you’re so cute.

“what’s this all about, sweets?” he pinched your cheek between a pointer and thumb, “got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” draken’s grin is wide as you peer down into your lap. you know exactly what he wants you to say, to admit that all you want to hear right now is how good you’re doing, how clever you are, to have your hard work appreciated when you feel like it’s futile and a waste of time. though you shook your head as you met his eyes once again, “shut up.” draken hummed at your response, the chewing of your lip and the remains of your bashful smile gave him the wordless answer he wanted. “c’mon then, smart ass, y’re coming to bed with me,” he patted your thigh as a signal get up, “can’t have my clever little thing over workin’ yourself when you’ve got all those other exams to do, can i?”

˗ˏˋ RINDOU

if there was one thing rindou had learned about you it was that once you start something you want to finish it, and you want to finish it well. you want to finish it yourself, it doesn’t feel the same if someone helps you, you tell him. but he knows you’re only human, so when mikey comes and drops another tower of rindou’s paperwork on your desk when you’re already up to your neck in it and it’s almost two in the morning, it’s not hard for him to notice the cracks in your resilience

“what’re you still doin’ here?” you heard rindou mumble from the doorway of your office. blood covered his knuckles and fingers, under his rings, and trailed up to his forearms in spatters. his hair was tousled and messy, violet eyes sleepier than usual. from where he leaned, he looked frightening. beautiful, but frightning. “‘m finishing paperwork.” rindou raised a brow, almost confused, as he checked the clock. two in the morning? finishing paperwork? you must’ve gone mad; it looked like you’d barely started with the piles mikey had dropped on your desk. “that’s your work, is it?” he spoke from the front of your desk. “hm? oh, no, it’s yours,” you held up the sheet you’d been writing, “i already finished my work, but mikey just asked me to get a bit of yours done while you were gone… didn’t have to do all of it but i may as well since i’ve started it.” sleepy was the smile that rested on your face. so pretty, he thought.

rindou sighed in response to your commitment and strolled over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and giving your cheek a quick kiss. “y’know you don’t wanna do all that, baby, c’mon,” kiss, “y’half asleep anyways, let me deal with it tomorrow, kay? need t’rest that pretty head of yours now.” you sighed and slumped backwards into your chair. it’s just work, it’s not even yours, you thought to yourself. you just couldn’t stand having to hand over the responsibility of doing all that work to someone else. you knew that feeling was silly, though, you just couldn’t help it sometimes. the man behind you could already guess the response travelling up your throat, ready to be mumbled out in defeat. rindou pulled away and beckoned you with a finger to stand up, “why don’t you try thinkin’ of the stuff you've already done, hm? come here ‘n’ tell me about it, sweets.” you always appreciated rindou’s attempts at comforting you, despite him never being one to comfort people, only one to help them forget about their current issue.

you followed him to the couch in your office and laid your tired head in his lap, strong thighs like pillows to you. and although you mostly spoke through a yawn, you told him about the work you did that day. “mhm, good job, baby.” a thumb stroked your cheek before he pulled you up for a quick kiss or two by your jaw. your smile, shy and a little toothy, was felt against his lips as your cheeks reddened under his touch. “such a good little angel f’me, aren’t you? doin’ my work when you don’t need to.” he took note of how warm your cheeks were on the tips of his fingers and pulled away from your face so you could hide your timidity no longer.

rindou had always had an inkling, even before you were dating, that you enjoyed hearing things like that; having your work appreciated and acknowledged, feeling supported for once. your silly attempts at hiding your smile that never worked. he could tell you’d always been independent, enjoyed being independent, though he also knew that sometimes you wanted to take a break or to not do everything by yourself, to let someone hold your hand for a while. “i didn’t know you could be so shy, i thought you would’a told me to shut up by now.” you looked up at his stupid smirk, knowing he wanted to hear it from you. playful arguing was futile option as any attempt made was to refute rindou’s statement was a failed one. it was worth a shot. you placed your head back on his thighs and your smile said it all, “you like it when i tell you those things don’t you? it’s what you deserve to hear.”

your grin hadn’t faltered, a sigh passing your lips. “mhm... yeah.”

rindou knew he was going to tease you about this forever now. he also knew that you’d deny everything every single time <3

reblogs appreciated <33

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iburnedmyselfalive · 4 months

Text

SHADOWS OF AFFECTION.

nsfw -- first time writings smut in awhile please give me ideas + feedback!! i feel like this is so rushed :'( didn't really proof read I'm sorry!!

A dimly lit room with a faint glow from nearby equipment. Anakin Skywalker, dressed in Jedi robes, stood facing you, a determined and slightly tense expression on his face.

"What are you doing here? You know you're not supposed to be in this sector." While speaking, his voice remained void of any emotion

"I have as much right to be here as you do, Skywalker. Maybe more." You mirrored his tone in your response noticing how that irritated him.

"You think you're clever, don't you? Always meddling where you don't belong." he said, his voice tinged with irritation, and his expression showing clear frustration.

"i'm here to ensure justice, something you seem to have forgotten in your pursuit of power." you remarked, stepping closer to him, your proximity enough to sense his rhythmic breathing.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted, narrowing his eyes at you, a glint of frustration now more evident. "I fight for peace, for the greater good, unlike your misguided intentions."

"Peace? Your methods are ruthless, your actions reckless. You'll destroy everything you claim to protect." you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief at his apparent contradictions.

"You don't understand the burden I carry, the choices I have to make." he murmured, his voice sounding like it almost went softer.

"Your excuses won't justify your deeds. The path you're on leads to darkness." you retorted firmly, unyielding in conviction.

There's a tense silence as you continue to lock eyes. Anakin's gaze flickers, conflicted emotions swirling within him. Suddenly, he reaches out, cupping your face in his hands, bringing you to shock.

Why did you want this?

"Despite everything, I can't deny what I feel for you." Anakin murmured, his voice carrying a hint of cocky confidence, unable to mask his underlying emotions.

Before you could even react to his words, Anakin closes the gap between you fully, pressing his lips against yours in a sudden, passionate kiss. It's a mixture of conflicting emotions - love, desire, and turmoil.

The kiss lingers for a moment, filled with intensity and an unspoken understanding. Anakin then breaks away, his expression a mixture of regret and longing.

"Fuck," he muttered, when he pulled back abruptly, a mix of emotions crossing his face.

He turns away, striding out of the room, leaving you standing there, stunned and conflicted by the unexpected moment of tenderness from your sworn enemy.

You wanted more, no, you needed more.

"Anakin," you called out, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with a hint of desperation that stirred something within him, causing a smirk to grace his lips.

"Hm?" he responded, pausing his steps, intrigued by the tone in your voice.

You sensed a rush in your stomach, a sensation akin to fireworks bursting within. "I-I need..." you attempted to articulate, grappling to express yourself as he cocked his head, observing you with a mix of fascination and amusement, a smug chuckle escaping his lips.

"What do you want, huh? You've gotta speak up, sweetheart, and tell me," he chided, his tone carrying a teasing edge.

I... I want you," you stammered, summoning the courage to draw nearer to him.

"Please," an almost pleading tone escaped your lips.

"Just kissed you, and now I've got you begging for more, hmm?" he chuckled, his voice tinged with a sense of satisfaction.

"Anakin, please, stop teasing me," you pleaded, frustration evident in your tone.

"Fine then, I'll find someone who'll give me what I need," you responded when he stayed silent, a hint of anger colouring your words, a calculated move to incite a reaction from him. His jaw tensed at your provocation, swiftly grasping your arm and ushering you back into a less conspicuous room.

"Enough with the games," he growled, commanding attention as he took a seat on the edge of the unfamiliar bed, a room that didn't belong to either of you.

It was amusing because you weren't the one teasing him; it was actually the reverse. The mere mention of seeing someone else seemed to set him off.

"Sit," he ordered firmly, his eyes fixated on his lap, a commanding presence exuding a sense of heat.

You glanced at him, uncertain of your next move, which only seemed to exacerbate his frustration.

"Sit, now," he demanded sharply. "Begging me for more and now when I offer, you act like a lost little bunny, huh? Pathetic," he hissed, his tone a blend of irritation and disdain.

Your cheeks warmed, a rush of heat coloring your skin at the way he spoke to you. Yet, driven by a mix of defiance and intrigue, you deliberately positioned yourself on his lap, straddling him. As you settled, you felt a surge of intensity in the eye contact you maintained with him, your gaze unwavering, a silent challenge and a hint of curiosity sparkling in your eyes.

An overwhelming sense of yearning surged within you, an unexpected desire that seemed to emanate solely for Anakin. It was a realization that struck you hard—you hadn't comprehended how much you craved him until that moment. Letting out a soft whimper as he gently directed your movements, guiding your hips, he melded his lips with yours in a passionate embrace.

His hands extended, caressing to cup your breasts, eliciting a soft gasp from you. "Ani," you whimpered in a breathless plea, your voice muffled amidst the intensity of the kiss.

"Bet this pretty little cunt is soaked huh? All for me, is that right?" he playfully cooed, further teasing you with his words, evoking another soft whine to escape your lips.

When you refused to say anything, he brought a hand up, slapping you pathetically which made you much wetter than you already were. You strained to tighten your thighs from your current position, trying your best to maintain composure.

"I want to hear it," he growled, craving the sound of your voice, eager to sense the urgency and longing in your words.

When you could only muster a hasty "mhm," it fell short of what he sought, clenching your thighs together again as a result of his second slap.

"Y-yes ani, 'm so wet" You protested with a soft whine, attempting to shift and escape his secure hold while perched on his lap.

He chuckled darkly, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he shook his head. "I know you can do much better than that dirty bitch," he asserted with a commanding tone, his voice carrying an air of authority.

"'m so wet for you ani, please touch me, please" you expressed your desperation with a pleading tone as his hand slid down your body, departing from its prior position, your breasts, and descending farther and farther.

His hand lightly brushed over your clothed clit, causing you to nearly lose balance on his lap. "Please," you whimpered, leaning in close to his ear.

"I need you to listen to me and follow my instructions, clear?" he growled, asserting his dominance.

"Crystal," you replied, your voice filled with desperation as you tried to move against his fingers, although he hadn't instructed you to do so, had he?

"Desperate whore," he hissed, "keep that up and we'll both end up unsatisfied," he warned in a low, threatening tone.

You swallowed hard and nodded, halting your movements even though every part of you resisted. His finger continued to trace deliberate circles over your clothed clit, coaxing more moans from you as he intensified his touch.

"I need more, please," you pleaded urgently. You sensed his undeniable hardness beneath you, fueling your growing desperation.

Your words only fueled his hastened actions; his intention to tease was already fixed. He proceeded by swiftly pulling you up and removing your pants.

While you were still in your panties, he gently positioned you on the bed. Standing over you, he returned his hand back to your pussy, soaking wet, carefully pulling aside your panties.

"Ani!" you exclaimed as you finally sensed his fingers on your sensitive clit.

"Yes, yes so good, don't stop," you whimpered, your back arching, fingers tightly clutching the bedsheet.

However, everything shifted rapidly as your orgasm drew near. Your hands embraced him, drawing him closer, sensing his warm breath as his fingers intensified their pace.

"Yeah?" he teased, a smug grin adorning his face.

Tears cascaded down your face as your legs started to tremble, the sensation making you see stars. You attempted to kiss him, but you couldn't quite reach, and teasingly, he playfully moved away slightly.

"Getting close, sweetheart? I'm sure I'm making you feel incredible," he growled, coaxing you to say it.

The intensity of pleasure overwhelmed you as his fingers explored various rhythms, gauging your every reaction to pinpoint what brought you the most pleasure. When he slapped you, it momentarily stifled your words. "'S-so good, Ani, so good," you whimpered, struggling to speak amidst the sensation.

You were on the verge of climax, but a disappointed whimper escaped when your orgasm was withheld. Anakin promptly withdrew his two fingers from your swollen clit.

You protested, a desire to retaliate rising within you, but weariness held you back, knowing it hadn't been your effort but his.

"You should've mentioned you were close," he teased, sporting a playful grin.

"Shut up, Anakin." you sassed right back at him.

Anakin retorted sharply, his voice edged with a demanding and rough tone, "Don't tell me to shut up when you're craving every bit of this, begging for more."

With a mixture of frustration and desire, you decided to snap back at him, "Stop pretending like you don't know what you're doing to me."

Anakin, his voice husky and determined, countered, "I know exactly what I'm doing. And you love every second of it, don't you?"

"I-I don't love it... I just... I can't help but... feel." With a mix of denial and embarrassment, you replied, faltering with your words as he guided his fingers back to your clit.

Anakin's voice was laced with a teasing yet commanding tone, "Words might fail you, but your body doesn't lie. Show me how much you want this" he remarked.

As Anakin's words hung in the air, your breath hitched. Your gaze met his, conveying a mixture of uncertainty and desire. Without a word, your body responded, inching closer, a silent invitation for more. Fingers trembled slightly, reaching out tentatively, a silent plea for his touch to continue. Their eyes held a depth of longing, silently communicating what words couldn't express.

You let out a gasp as he directed his lips to your breasts, alternating between sucking and gently nibbling on one nipple, then showering the same affection on the other with equal passion.

"Ani, I need you," you whimpered as your climax neared once more. Your hands trembled as you attempted to remove his Jedi robes, but this action made him pause.

"What did I say?" he reminded you sternly, referring to the specific orders he had given for you to follow his commands strictly.

"'s too much, Ani," you cried out as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, he began to gently use his tongue to tease over your clit.

"That's not what I said," he hissed, intensifying the circles of his tongue over your clit while his hand reached out to firmly cup your breasts.

"Please," you cried out, attempting to close your thighs as you squirmed, sitting up and tangling your hands in his hair, desperately trying to pull him away from you

He snarled, "Take it," exerting force to keep you down.

"Ani, it's too much, please!" you cried, squirming even harder.

“Mm, what a beautiful cunt this is," he murmured, his tongue tracing circles over your clit, drawing you even nearer to him.

As you started moaning his name, almost reaching climax, he abruptly withdrew. Hs stripped off his clothing, you whimpered, studying his features, and he was undeniably well-endowed. "Where do you want this, sweetheart? Right here?" he teased, grazing his tip along your folds, referring to his cock.

You nodded with a pout, but before you could speak, he raised his hand, wrapping it around your neck ever so slightly "Can't even say it, can you? You want me inside you, huh? Deep inside," he cooed, his voice taunting.

"Say it now. I want to hear it," he demanded.

You whimpered, obeying his command but feeling embarrassed. "I want... you... please... to fuck me," you struggled to express, blushing with vulnerability.

His grin widened as he pushed himself into you. "So big," you murmured to yourself, grasping onto his arms as discomfort crossed your face.

"Let me set the pace baby, yeah, let me set the pace" he cooed softly, his voice filled with assurance. He started with a slow movement for a fleeting moment before intensifying his pace, causing the distinct sound of skin meeting skin. You were already a disheveled mess, so he paid no mind if someone were to walk in.

"Oh, Anakin, please!" you cried out, feeling the intense arousal build up. You had been denied your orgasm multiple times, so you sensed that just a few more thrusts would push you over the edge.

"Hold it, you filthy bitch," he cooed, commanding you to restrain yourself from climaxing.

"But!" you began to protest, only to be interrupted by him.

"I said, hold it," he growled, swiftly reaching up to slap you. His thrusts were intense, driving deep into you.

"Yeah, yeah that's it, taking this so well f'me," he groaned in satisfaction.

"Ani, I... I need..." you struggled to articulate your words as he relentlessly pounded into you, but he understood your desires perfectly. He pressed his lips against yours, delivering a messy yet forceful kiss that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Up," he commanded, his gaze fixed on your hips, and obediently, you complied, raising your hips as instructed. He swiftly grabbed a pillow, placing it under your lower back as he delved deep inside you once more. Holding still momentarily, observing your squirms for him, he finally resumed thrusting.

"Ani, yes, just like that," you cried out, the altered position aiding him in reaching a new angle, hitting your most sensitive spot.

He swiveled his hips, trailing soft nibbles along your neck, then ascending to your earlobe, teasingly biting on it.

"Are you going to cum f'me? Going to make a mess all over my cock?" he provocatively questioned.

"Yes! Please, yes!" you cried out, your legs trembling as he brought his thumb down to your clit, vigorously circling it.

"fuck," he groaned, his hips briefly slowing before returning to their earlier rhythm. Your hands dug deeply into his back, almost drawing blood.

"Please make me cum, I want it so badly," you pleaded, gripping onto him tightly.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, becoming almost unbearable.

"mhm, mhm," you cried out, so overwhelmed that you couldn't articulate properly.

Your back arched deeply, the sensation seemingly endless. Your eyes rolled back, hands gripping his hair as he penetrated you deeply, fully immersed in the act, lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder.

And that was the tipping point for you.

"Come for me, now, pretty baby," he demanded as it felt like an explosion, finally letting go, releasing yourself all over his cock. He groaned in unison with you as he planted his seed deep inside you, his thumb continuing to work on your clit while he maintained a slow and steady rhythm of thrusting.

"That's it, taking it so well," he cooed as his pace gradually quickened once more. In a state of shock, you whimpered, feeling utterly exhausted and drained from the prolonged teasing game he had been playing with you for a while.

"What? it's too much for you to handle huh? what is it baby? Have I gotten you all worked up?" he asked, wearing a sly grin.

"Mhm," you replied, nodding your head with a pout on your face.

"Too bad. You're going to take my cock and thank me for it," he growled, thrusting deeper into you, leaving you wondering how that could even be possible.

"Drenched in all your damn juices," he hissed, gripping your waist while one hand moved to your lower stomach, applying slight pressure to feel himself inside you.

"Look," he demanded, seizing your jaw to force you to observe the point where you two were connected, to witness how intensely he was penetrating you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned at the sight of him moving in and out of you, your body tightly embracing him. Something about the sight drove you to the edge once more; your eyes rolled back as you cried out, "Ani!" while bucking your hips.

"Fuck," he cooed, "make a fucking mess all over me."

His words spat out with intensity, "Cover me in all your fucking juices," he hissed, demanding,

"Yeah pretty baby, you want to huh?" he cooed as you desperately nodded.

"Gonna fucking fill this pussy up" he spoke through gritted teeth.

In just a few more thrusts, both of you reached climax together. You moaned for him while he buried his face into your neck, groaning into your ear.

"Good girl," he cooed, planting a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away from you and kneeling down again.

"Ani?" you questioned with a whimper, but were interrupted by a moan as he began circling your clit with his tongue once more.

Did he really want you to cum for the third time?

Overwhelmed by the stimulation, you cried even harder, attempting to squirm away from him.

"Mm, it's too much, too much, I can't handle it," you whined, sensing your climax nearing as he sucked harshly on your clit, the sound of a 'pop' echoing in the room.

Indeed, he had succeeded; the cocky guy had brought you to climax for the third time.

"You did so well f'me, darling," he cooed, leaning in to kiss you as you tasted yourself on his lips. Eventually, he pulled away, planting a kiss on your forehead as he took care of cleaning you up and helping you get dressed again.

You winced from the pain in your legs when you attempted to stand, prompting him to lift you up himself.

"Tired?" he inquired, and you nodded, nearly dozing off in his embrace.

"Oh, training got the best of her? Take it easy on her, Anakin," Obi-Wan's sudden voice made you whimper.

"Shh, sleep baby," he cooed, shooting Obi-Wan a glare.

Anakin carried you back to his place, gently helping you change into comfortable clothes before guiding you to bed. He tenderly tucked you in, caressing your head and planting gentle kisses on your forehead.

"Rest now, my dear," he whispered softly, dimming the lights as you drifted into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and cared for in his embrace.

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Note

could we please get some sweet Gaz fluff/comfort like scientist is too exhausted to shower after a long day so Gaz joins her and cleans her instead, washing her hair, etc while she stands there half asleep

Yes I can! I think this is something that happens often for them.

(Also - not that you’ve offended me or anything - but I’ve been using ‘they’ for the researcher out of inclusivity. That said! If you see researcher/yourself with she/her pronouns, that’s so so valid. I’ll just be a writing using they/them)

They’ve been awake for going on 29? 30? Hours. Too long. Way too long. Gaz couldn’t even pull them away because it was a big project that the brass was putting a lot of pressure on getting down. Final tests are finished now though, and he’s finally able to pry them away from the lab.

He takes them to their room, wishes he could just send them to bed right away. But they’re covered in gun powder, ash, pen ink, metal dust and..,, he shudders to think of what else. But they’ll need to bathe before climbing in. They hate feeling dirty when they wake up.

“Tired,” they groan, leaning into him.

“I know, chickadee. Just this last thing…”

Getting them to their tiny bathroom is its own struggle but they look genuinely miserable about trying to clean themselves up. Gaz scritches a hand through their oily, dirty hair.

“You mind if I help?”

They look up at him with stars in their eyes. “Please do.”

He’s careful and respectful as he strips them down, half holding them up as they lean into him. He gets the water right and carefully guides them in. Lets them get their footing, then strips himself down.

They make grabby hands at him, plaster themselves to his front with a happy little sigh. “Tired,” they mumble again.

“I know, luv,” he replies, “almost down.”

They’re blessedly pliant as he soaps their hair and scrubs them down. Usually showers are a perfunctory thing they do as quickly as possible to get to the next thing - either sleep or more work (or sometimes private time with Gaz). Right now, though, he’s able to take a little extra time to press his thumbs into the tense muscles of their neck, the tired tendons in their clever hands, the exhausted muscles in their lower back.

They make little sleepy noises of appreciation, eyes barely open as they nearly slip off him. Gaz doesn’t even bother with himself. All he’s down the last two days is stand nearby and try to remind them to eat and drink. All the brushing up against him that they’re doing is plenty.

They stir a bit when the water turns off, mumbling his name.

“‘S alright chickadee,” he murmurs, helping them out. “Just gotta get you dried off.”

They hum, rub at their overworked eyes. “You staying?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Mhmm.”

He gently buffers them dry, drops kisses here and there while they sway on their feet. Good enough, he thinks when they start to list to the side.

He tucks them in together, lets them burrow in against his side and wrap their limbs around his.

“Love you, Ky,” the mumble.

His heart skips. “Love you too.”

#asks #my writing #thoughts™️#cod #fanfiction #bodyguard!gaz #kyle gaz garrick #gaz

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killxz · 6 months

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Young Justice!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

a/n: i've loved young justice since I was like 8 and i recently rewatched it again and i was disappointed that they didn't let dick or tim realise that jason was right there. so if i can't have it, imma make it. also, i've been writing on the web version of tumblr and i always make the text on my post small and i just realised that the small font on the app is miniscule 🤏🏻. so sorry to anyone who i may have given myopia to. TUMBLR STOP EATING MY DRAFTS! also don't forget to like or comment in your enjoyed! this takes place in season 3 episode 6 'Rescue Op'.

Conner broke down the door.

"This is why you don't go in unprepared." Dick mutters as you and the others rush into the prison cell. "Now, hold still." Brion and Forager grunts as Dick pulled out the control devices on the back of their necks.

"There you go, girl." Conner pats Sphere after he tore down the chains holding her in place. "You gotta figure the Shadows are on their way," You peered out of the door down the hall.

"Then let's go!" Dick orders, urging everyone out of the cell and down the dark hallway. You and the others ran down the winding paths in the dark, relying on Oracle's directions to escape the base. When Conner kicks down the final door, you see the so-called 'Sensei' some bald guy with Apokoliptian tech and a red-hooded ninja.

The group glared tensely at the trio, preparing for battle. Dick, ever the meditator, steps forward. "We just wanna leave," he says, hands up in a placating manner.

"Your trespass must be punished," Sensei declares, waving his glowing blue sword menacingly. You almost laughed. "Wrong answer." Conner growls as everyone kept into action. You faced off with the red-hooded ninja, blocking his katana slashes with your own. Somehow, this felt...familiar? It was like you fought with this person before. It almost felt like...

It's impossible, you told yourself firmly. He was dead. You just hadn't gotten over it yet. You got your head back in the game and started lashing out at the ninja with your own moves. With a clever strike, the ninja's katana clatter to the ground a few feet away. "Ha!" You exclaimed triumphantly. A bit too soon, perhaps. The ninja lunged towards you striking your blade out of your hand. You winced. "I guess we're doing this the old school way, then," you got into a defensive position. The ninja jumps towards you, aiming a punch which you blocked with your forearm, ignoring the sting that ran down your arm.

He then did something that made your blood run cold. He did a roundhouse kick , followed by a punch. Your mind was whirling. Bruce thought us that move...

Taking advantage of your distraction, he lunges towards you pinning you onto the ground under him. You yelp as your back hit the hard ground. Instinctively, you wrap your leg around his waist and rolled over, causing you to be onto of him. The ninja's hood and fallen off in your little tussle, showing a familiar head of messy black hair. You eyes widened.

It can't be... He's dead. Jason's dead.

"Jason?" You wavering voice whispered. The ninja flinched, his movements coming to an abrupt stop. With shaky hands, you reached for the mask covering his eyes, lifting it slowly. Beneath it, you see sickeningly familiar teal eyes. "Jason? B-but how? You're dead..."

"Enough." Ra's Al Ghul's voice echoed in the garden, causing all the fights happening to stop. Jason snatched the mask from your hand and put it back on, hooking his legs around yours and flipped you over, causing you to crash against the ground. Jason got off you and went to stand by his apparent master's side, leaving you shell-shocked on the ground, trying to process what had just happened. Dick rushed to your side. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He asked worriedly.

You could only shake your head wordlessly, your mind still too shocked to come up with coherent words.

"Well, young man, are you proud of this little debacle?" Ra's Al Ghul smirked. "I believe the detective will be quite disappointed." He glanced at Dick. Dick growled in response. "I assume you came to recover these children?" Ra's continued. "Take them and go."

"Not without my sister, Tara Markov!" Brion bellows. You smack a hand to your head. Seriously, this man has more anger issues than Conner when you, Dick, Wally and Kaldur first rescued him from Cadmus. "We know the League of Shadows has her!" He continues.

You zoned out for the rest of the conversation, your eyes locking onto somehow-resurrected Jason's form. As if he could feel your gaze on him, his head turned to your direction before turning away again.

As Ra's Al Ghul and the others engaged in a tense discussion about Tara Markov, your mind couldn't escape the overwhelming shock of seeing Jason once again. He was supposed to be dead, lost to the relentless grip of the Joker, and yet here he stood, seemingly loyal to the League of Shadows. The flood of emotions and memories rushed over you like a tidal wave.

Flashbacks of your time with Jason during his Robin days, his cheeky smile, his reckless enthusiasm, the secret, sweet moments you both shared, and the unwavering loyalty he showed to his comrades filled your mind. The pain of losing him all over again was too much to bear.

As the conversation with Ra's Al Ghul continued, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of hopelessness. You had come to rescue Brion and the others, but now your heart ached for something else entirely. The prospect of reconciling with Jason, the possibility of bringing him back to your side again, seemed like an unattainable dream.

"Get out." the annoyed voice of Ra's snapped you out of your thoughts. As the others group together to get their bearings before they leave, you made your way to Jason, tugging on his arm to face you. "Jason..." Your voice was quiet, broken.

"Ah, it seems like you have found out who he is," Ra's chuckled. Anger rose within you as you whipped towards him. "What did you do to Jason?!"

He chuckled again, unbothered by your outburst. "Nothing, in fact, I have done you and your little Bat family a favor."

"By brainwashing him?!"

"He's not brainwashed, he's just...learning right from the beginning." Ra's shrugged.

You scoffed. "And that's supposed to be better?!" You stepped forward angrily, ready to bash in his skull. Jason grabbed your arm and shook his head silently. He tugged you away from the crowd and came to a stop behind the trees out of everyone's sight.

He took off his eye and face mask, leaving his face bare for you to see. He whispered your name, something that you have not heard in a long time, something that you used to desperately wish you would hear again. "Look," He begins. "I'm fine, okay? I'm perfectly fine-" You tug him into a fierce hug, squeezing tightly.

"You're not okay," You sniffle. "I missd you, so much..." Jason hesitantly wrapped his hands around your considerably shorter frame, squeezing lightly. "I-I missed you too," He mumbled, burying his face in your hair and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

You pull away, looking up at him. "Do...you think that things can go back to they once were?" You asked quietly. "There was something I didn't get to tell you, before...you died. I-"

Jason cuts you off by grabbing your chin and pulling you into a kiss. It was a tentative, cautious one, his lips as light as butterfly wings. He was waiting for you to take the initiative. You pressd your lips against his, hand snaking up to grab at the hai at the base of his neck, cuasing him to groan softly. His hands snake around your waist as he tugged you closer to him, your bodies flushed against each other,

In that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and the only thing that mattered was the connection you had with Jason. It was a connection that had never truly broken, no matter how much time had passed.

As the tension built between you, Jason's lips met yours in a hesitant, tender kiss. It was a kiss that held a confession of emotions too strong to be expressed in words – love, regret, longing, and the hope for a second chance.

When the kiss finally broke, you both pulled away, but your eyes remained locked onto each other's. It was a silent acknowledgment of what had just transpired – a rekindling of a connection that had been lost in the chaos of life as a vigiante.

Jason's voice was soft as he spoke, "I never thought I'd see you again."

You smiled, tears glistening in your eyes, and replied, "I never thought I'd see you again either, but I'm glad I did."

The moment was broken by Dick calling out your name. "Where are you? We gotta go!" You looked back at Jason, placing a hand on his cheek. "I'll come back for you," You whispered. "I promise."

Jason gives you a slight nod. "I'll be waiting. I...love you."

You kiss his cheek, stepping back. "I love you too, so much." You push the branchs of the tree aside, half stepping out into the light. "'I'll see you soon."

a/n: part 2? ;)

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #killxz #batboys #batman #fanfic #jason todd angst #jason todd #ao3 fanfic #young justice

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 10 months

Note

hii I don't know if you write for Cipher from fast and furious but if you do could I request her with prompt 53 and/or 59 🫶 I absolutely adore your fics

Heyyy @ciphersonlywife !! I just saw faxt X for the second time, and I can’t tell you how much I loved Cipher in it 🔥 So your request comes at the perfect time! Thanks for the quests & Hope you enjoy! PSA: manipulation below. This is obviously not ok or healthy. Be advised.

Sirens in Your Head ~Cipher(Fast X) xFem College!Student!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#53. “Shit, right there Daddy, please!! … Uhh… I… I didn’t mean that…!”

#59. “You… find this attractive?”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, fingering, age gap(all legal), pet names, chocking, trespassing, illegal activities, chocking kink, hand kink, Daddy kink, manipulation, etc.

Enjoy (;

How had you, a college freshman and relatively normal young adult, end up working with the world renown cyber terrorist known as ‘Cypher’…?

Well the short story of it is that she picked your broke ass up from MIT and offered you a job.

And the long story is… a little more complicated…

~~~

Cipher had been looking for a good crew ever since Toretto and her escape from her glass cage. And when she heard of a mass hack across all U.S. military equipment, she was intrigued. She was even more intrigued when she found out after some digging that it was done by a MIT freshman.

~~~

That’s how, when you entered your dorm coming back from your chem class, you found the woman who you would come to know you intimately well, leaning back against the opposing wall.

“I… I’m sorry, can I help you?” You asked.

The blonde lunged herself effortlessly off the wall, making her way towards you.

“Sit.” was her sultry reply, indicating towards your desk chair, while she invaded your proximity and locked the door behind you.

The strange woman then watched you sit down without question as she leaned back against your desk. Your breath hitched under her intense gaze. You had to look up to meet her eyes.

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she certainly expecting you…

“I heard of someone who cyber attacked all of the U.S. military’s key tech… even the classified pieces…” the blonde stared you down as she cooly explained.

“Oh…?” You choked out, your face reddening at her choice of topic.

“Yes. Gotta hand it to the person… pretty clever.” She continued, “Especially when I found out it was a 19 year old kid who hasn’t had any priors… and hasn’t been caught for it…”

Her eyes glimmered mischievously and were drilling into your soul, your own flickering away and doing a terrible job at keeping her at bay. That’s when you noticed the woman’s hands. They were tightly gripping your desk.

And fuck how they were delicious… The idea of them touching you sent sparks through your body and to your core…

You shook your head. You were being found out for a federal crime for gods sake and you were fantasizing about this woman’s hands. But then one of them picks your chin up, directing your gaze back up to her eyes.

Cipher cocked her head amusingly, her eyes scanning you, attempting to solve you. She then removed her hand and a whimper which you desperately tried to stifle escaped you anyway. Your pupils were blown out of proportion, your cheeks ablaze with fusia.

“I want you to work for me…” The woman spoke.

But you didn’t register her. All you could think about was her close presence and her hands which were now rhythmically tapping on your desk. This time Cypher brought her hand to your throat, pushing your head back up to her gaze and squeezing your throat lightly at the same time.

“I don’t like to repeat myself…” she warned, slightly tightening her hold on you.

This time there was no mistaking the pathetic whimper that escaped your lips. And suddenly, the blonde’s eyes flushed with a whole new darkness.

“You… Ohhh, is that what it is…? find this attractive?” Cipher tauntingly purred.

Your breath hitched yet again. You didn’t know whether she was referring to her hand or her choking you or just her in general, but you desperately nodded. She then picked you up by the throat with ease, suddenly switching your positions and pinning you to your desk, eliciting a gasp from you.

“Up.” The blonde commanded.

You hopped up on your desk as fast as humanly possible. Your heart was racing and your breathing was erratic. You immediately looked back up to the blonde. With a wicked smirk, the blonde crept her hands up your thighs, making you shudder. Her hands spread your legs open and hiked your skirt up with ease. You were a flustered mess.

Ciphers eyes never wavered from staring down at you, partially looking for any signs of you not wanting this but mainly wanting to watch ever little reaction she could draw out of you.

“Is this what you want, baby…?” She taunted, her index finger tracing teasing circles over your clothed clit.

Your eyes widened and your hips jerked at the teasing pleasure and pet name. Your mouth formed into a silent O as she continued to lightly tease you. But then she stopped. Your eyes fluttered back up to the blonde, a whimper escaping your lips.

“Oh Baby… I told you, I don’t like to repeat myself…” she growled, her other hand coming back up to your throat and squeezing it deliciously tight.

“I’m… I’m sorry…!” You chocked out in a breathless moan.

At your words, the blonde removed her hand from your neck and that wicked smirk returned. Her hands crept back up your thighs, one staying there to keep your legs propt open, the other snaking it’s way back to your clothed clit.

“Let’s try this again…” she wickedly purred, “Tell me what you want, baby…”

Your eyes rolled back from her torturous pleasuring.

“Want… want you…” you breathlessly pant.

“Want what, baby…? Use your words…” she taunts, moving your panties aside with ease and running her index finger through your folds.

“OhHhHHhh—! Want your fingers inside of me…!!” You breathily cried out.

At this, two of her fingers slipped inside your aching heat, causing you to grab onto her form with a tight grip.

“Good girl… But you might want to keep it down, unless you want the whole campus to hear you…” she wickedly purred, pumping and curling her fingers skillfully inside your soaked cunt.

Your eyes went full white as you rutted against the blonde’s fingers.

“Please please please…!” You chanted.

She then added another finger, making you keel over in pleasure.

“Already so close…? Poor baby hasn’t been properly touched has she…?” She tautingly husked in your ear, using her other hand to choke you once more.

“I—Yes GOD please don’t stop!!” You chockingly cried out, grinding your hips against the blonde’s hand sloppily.

Her fingers then expertly curled against that spongey spot inside you, eliciting another string of pleasurable cries from your lips.

“Shit, right there Daddy, please!!” You screamed as you crashed into your orgasm, your walls deliciously clenching around the blonde’s fingers.

The second you phased out of your blissed out state, you realized what had come out of your mouth.

“Uhh… I… I didn’t mean that…!” You stuttered, beginning to choke up yet again and your gaze fluttering around the room to avoid the blonde’s.

Meanwhile, Cipher pulled her three fingers out of you and stuck them in your mouth, making you come back to reality.

“Work for me.”

You nodded with a mouthful of her fingers and your cum. At your words, Cipher chuckled, bringing her lips to your ear and nipping your earlobe.

“Call me Daddy…” she purred in the shell of your ear.

~~~

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dellalyra · 14 days

Text

𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙮

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ

A/N: hello it is i pixie emerged from hibernation to drop you this month late extra of our favourite family and then crawl back into my lair.

cw: the usual swearing, mentions of sexism, menstruation and female reproductive system, suggestive ending.

“No way! See I heard it had something to do with that little twerp from the Zen’in clan. Navel - or nacho or whatever the fuck his name is.”

“Ugh - why does that not even surprise me. He’s such a shithead, like you should have seen the look on his face when my mom interjected at a Jujutsu higher ups event she muscled her way into. Honestly it’s gotta be like - microscopic. Oh and it’s Navel now - never using Naoya again.”

Shoko and you had just been out on a girls day out, just the two of you - a visit to the arcade, lunch, some shopping and an exhibition on the human body. It had to be done, girl time was integral to maintaining a sense of sanity when the other 50% of the friend group was G.S squared.

The gossip had continued back to the dorms, where you both stood holding bags of snacks and the days haul while you put in the key code.

The door swung open and there stood Satoru Gojo, and Suguru Geto - both decked in pink party hats and shouting ‘surprise!’ (okay, gojo was shouting - geto was just saying).

“Jesus Christ!”

“What the fuck?!”

The camaraderie that came from the jumpscare resulted in Shoko and you both swearing and jumping in surprise at the sudden appearance.

Before either of you could react any further to it, long arms still a bit unaware of his strength, tug you both into a bonecrushing hug.

Shoko twists Satoru’s nipple through his shirt so he shrieks and lets you both you (you hide your disappointment).

You look at Geto, who winks with a devilish smirk and turn to the wall where the table is laid out with both you and Shoko’s favourites and a giant handmade poster on the wall with “Happy International Women’s Day” in large bubble writing.

Suddenly the confused silence was broken as a cheerful voice started singing, and was then accompanied by a louder Satoru.

“Happy InternationalWomen’sDay to you, Happy InternationalWomen’sDay to you! Happy InternationalWomen’sDay Shoko and Y/N, Happy InternationalWomen’sDay to you!” echoed with far too many syllables in the tune of ‘happy birthday’ across the room as Haibara emerged from the kitchen, with a strange red blob shaped cake in his hands followed by a very unhappy looking Nanami Kento.

The cake was placed on the table as you and Shoko looked at it in confusion - it was a red colour frosting on a cake shaped like a weird triangle with two squiggles coming from the sides joined to two cupcakes. For the life of you - and Shoko too if the look on her face was anything to go by - you had no idea what the cake was meant to be.

Suguru’s smirk was unnerving as he looked between you both.

“Shoko-senpai and Y/N-senpai! So strong, and powerful, and clever and pretty! Not that being pretty is important for being a woman - it’s just a bonus - not that it’s not great that you’re pretty, because it is, like it’s amazing! If I was into girls I’d definitely be into you both! But it’s not what makes you amazing!” Haibara says, clapping his hands.

“The strongest, most powerful, clever and cunning and most beautiful girls! We couldn’t do any of this without you. Well, I could -” Satoru starts.

“Satoru.” Geto warns.

“Okay, maybe I sometimes need backup and you girls are definitely the best choices after Suguru!” He finishes.

“That was barely complimentary.” Nanami scowls.

“We love and respect you both!” Satoru says.

“Some love you more than others…” Suguru smirks.

“Equally! Equally! We love you all equally and in a very friendly, respectful, and caring way!” Satoru says, kicking Suguru’s shin.

This whole time, you and Shoko had just been staring between them all.

“What the fuck…” Shoko whispers.

“Ditto…” You pipe in.

Satoru pops pink party poppers in both your faces and then Suguru uses the distraction to place a party hat on both your heads.

“Shoko - you save our asses, sometimes literally on an almost daily basis. Your no nonsense attitude and ability to care for us all and unflappable nature is a core reason we’re all here and we would be lost without you. You’re also underhandedly funny, and we’re very thankful to have you in our lives.” Suguru says, smooth and steady as always, and elbows a fidgeting Satoru.

“Y/N! You - are so awesome! You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and you make sure we’re all safe and strong and it’s so cool when you kick ass and I love exorcising with you - and your cursed technique is so cool and you work so hard and I don’t really respect many people but I definitely respect you! You’re also beautiful but that’s not important - not that you’re not like, importantly pretty! Because I think it’s very important that everyone knows you’re so pretty!” Came a gushing scramble of words from the usually overconfident Satoru - because complimenting the one person who has ever made him nervous was a bit of a shock to the system of the Honoured One.

For a moment, you and Shoko just stood in bewildered silence - still holding hands from when you walked in.

Before you look at each other, and simultaneously double over in hysterical laughter - clutching onto each other for support.

“This was so fucking strange, but I love it - we love it. Thank you boys, for this. It’s really appreciated.”

“That’s because we - appreciate you!” Gojo says, pointing between the four boys.

You hug all the boys, while Shoko inspects the cake on the table.

“Is this a Magikarp or something?” She asks, head tilted as she examines the red blob.

“It’s a uterus!” Haibara exclaims.

After trying to figure it out - the cupcakes where the ovaries should be and the triangle the uterus itself… it makes slightly more sense - but maybe International Women’s Day would be spent with an anatomy lesson from Shoko.

“Kid, listen - today we are going to be extra respectful of our girls, yeah?” Satoru says, opening the bag of pastries he had bought for breakfast the night before after Megumi talked him out of attempting to make pancakes. Megumi nodded, and placed the two bouquets of flowers on the two chairs his mom and sister usually sat in.

“They’re both very, very important to us. Sometimes, kid - the world is really shit for girls. A lot more than it is for us. Things that might be a bit difficult for us - not for me, but others - would be really hard for girls.”

“Periods.” Megumi grimaces, but nods solemnly.

“Yeah. But other things too. Like sometimes girls get less money for the same jobs, and people try to tell them how to look or how to act - or, no joke, tell them what they can do with their own body! Even simple stuff, like sometimes it’s dangerous for girls to go certain places, or people might expect less from them just because they’re girls.”

“Even for Mama?” Megumi asks, confused because from his perspective, the woman who has raised him the past 2 years is the most powerful (second to Gojo, but don’t tell him that) and formidable person he knows, and the kindest and funniest.

"Sometimes especially for her. Y/N is really strong, yeah?" Gojo asks, taking out a jug of juice and placing it on the table, before scribbling on one of your cinnimaroll post it notes and sticking it on the jug.

"Yeah." Megumi nods.

"Do you think that's scary?" Gojo asks.

"I think it's cool." The boy shrugs.

"Some men don't. They think she doesn't deserve it, or she is too weak to hold such a power - did you know your mama had more disciplinary meetings at school than I did?" Gojo says as he switches the kettle on.

"Why? Yaga-san said you were a nightmare student." Megumi is shocked at the thought.

"I was. But what's the difference between me and your mom?" Gojo says, pulling down 4 mugs. One with two puppies, one with the Winx Club characters on it, another with ‘Daddy Cool’ in big obnoxious yellow writing and the last with the BTS logo in purple.

"She isn't annoying."

"Okay, rude."

"She's a girl."

"Yep. That's why. Your - your Uncle Suguru was special grade too - and he and I did some crazy shit - and we got slaps on the wrist mostly, but your mom was late with a mission report one time because she was sick and they gave her extra work for a month. Aunty Koko too."

"But why?"

"Because weak men fear powerful women."

"That's dumb."

"Super dumb."

“Something girls in my class get notes sent home even though they didn’t do anything really bad.” Megumi scowls.

“That’s why we gotta fight to make sure we’re not part of the problem, and stop boys who are.” Satoru says, placing the heated pastries on the table.

“Like fighting them?”

“Sometimes they’re not even worth the effort, kid. Just stick up for girls and never treat them as anything less than a boy - okay? There’s shit girls deal with that we will never go through or understand.”

“Oh, like the stuff you and mama talked about with the girls my age in the Zen’in clan?”

“Your cousins, yeah.”

“And why the higher ups are dicks to mama’s family?”

“Exactly! You’re so smart you have to have gotten it from me.” Gojo smiles, hands on hips in his frilly apron.

“That’s not even possible.”

“Yes it is, I made it possible.” Satoru’s just winding the 9 year old up at this point.

“You’re impossible.” Megumi growls.

“Your hair’s impossible!” Satoru blows a raspberry.

“A slow start to the day is impossible, apparently.” Came your voice from where you stood leaning against the archway to the kitchen, a sleepy smile on your face in your fluffy blue robe and bunny slippers. Tsumiki padded up behind you, much brighter and a definite morning person.

“Happy international women’s day, my amazing girlie pops!” Satoru claps and scoops you both into the air with ease, giggles resounding through the room.

Megumi just scrunches his nose, staring bewildered at where the man gets his energy.

“Thank you, ‘Toru. You’re very sweet to do this.” You kiss him with a smile and walk to sit down at the table.

“Not as sweet as that a-” Satoru starts, but is swiftly cut off my Megumi’s disgusted groan, unable for his guardians flirting just yet.

You sit down and sniff the bouquet on your chair, delighting in the assortment of your favourite flowers, as Tsumiki does the same beside you.

“Happy women’s day, mama and Tsumiki.” Megumi nods, quiet but clear.

“Thanks, ‘gumi!” Tsumiki smiles, ruffling her younger brother’s spiky black hair.

“Thanks, sweet boy.” You wink at him.

As you go to pour yourself some juice, you can’t stop the giggle at the stick note on the carton.

‘Respect Women Juice’

“Yo, mini-me, did you grab the Doriyaki on the way home?” A 44 year old Satoru asks his 17 year old son who’s entering the kitchen.

“Yeah, I got extra too because ‘Rai’s been crabby so I think she’s due shark week.” The boy says, snatching a mochi from the box before Satoru could.

“Your mom too…” Satoru’s head turns sharply.

“Oh shit.”

“It’s happened…”

“We can do this - dad.” His son says with a straight, serious face as they both examine the calender.

“We just gotta be the best husband, son and brother ever.” Satoru nods.

“Well… that won’t be hard.” Akio smirks, only 2 inches shorter than his dad and growing.

“Of course it won’t. We’re the strongest.” Satoru says, doing his ridiculously intricate secret handshake with his son.

A moment later, two sets of feet pad down the stairs.

43 year old you and your 14 year old daughter walk into the room, your arms snugly wrapped around your little girl’s shoulders.

You knew what to expect on March 8th every year by now, it had been 25 years of it.

“Happy international women’s day, my incredible wife and mind blowing daughter.” Satoru says with a smile and open arms spanning half the kitchen.

“25 years of this and it still gives me butterflies, thank you ‘Toru.” You say, pressing a kiss to your husbands jaw by dragging his collar down to meet you.

“Thanks dad, thanks ‘Kio!” Mirai claps and hugs them both.

“Thank you, mochi.” You say, also dragging your too-tall son’s collar down to press a kiss to his cheek.

As you all sit down to breakfast, and chatter aimlessly, Satoru pulls you to sit on his lap as always.

“Oh, ‘Rai, I’m gonna go into the mall to pick up my new Nikes too - do you want to come?” Akio says, and even though this is a regular occurrence - it warms your heart every time to see that your two babies aren’t only siblings, but also best friends - genuinely enjoying each other’s company and actively seeking each other out. Something tells you that will never change, either.

“Sounds good, do you still want to try that new boba place? The one with the cat logo?” Mirai says, googling the opening times and showing it to her brother.

“Bring me back a brown sugar milk tea?” You plead, the same look on your face as when 17 year old you got excited for boba dates with Satoru.

“Course, Mama. Papa, do you want one?” Mirai asks, her long snowy white hair bushy and wild from bed head inherited from you.

Satoru smiles, hand rubbing circles against your hip as Mirai types his order into her notes.

“Is Aunty Koko still coming over tonight?” Akio asks, looking up at you with eyes just like his father’s.

“She is, I think Uncle Cho too. I was thinking we’d order pizza.” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, mom - you actually have mind reading technique I swear.” He pats your head as if you weren’t his mother.

The two kids wander to get dressed, leaving you still sipping coffee curled against your husbands broad chest.

Your phone dings with a notification from the family group chat, and Satoru nudges you to open it.

A selfie, clearly taken by Yuuji, face scarred and older but beaming expression unchanged - featuring a taller, sharper 31 year old Megumi with a toddler in each arm, looking out over the ocean at sunset.

“They seem bigger every time I see them.” Satoru laughs.

“The twins or Yuuji and Megs?” You giggle.

“Both. Still can’t believe ‘Gumi had the audacity to grow up so much. I specifically told him to stop.”

“Eh? Satoru - imagine how I feel! Both our sons are at least a foot taller than me! Try talking to a kid when you need a step stool to look them in the eye!” You poke his cheek.

“Nawh, poor baby. You’re as pocket sized as the day I met that pretty girl holding a ladybug waiting for introduction at Jujutsu Tech. Gonna carry you around in my pocket.” Your husband teases, squishing your frowning cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah - alright daddy long legs.”

“Seriously though - we should take another trip to Malaysia, get Cho to stay with the kids. We can ask the boys where they stayed, looks pretty as hell.”

“Let’s do it, pretty boy.” You kiss the corner of his lips.

“You know… the kids are gone all afternoon…” He says, large hands squeezing your waist.

“They are… and it just so happens I just bought something very, very pretty to try on.” You raise an eyebrow, biting your lip.

“Oh? A private fashion show?” He says, thumb on your lower lip.

“Just for my ‘Toru.”

“Invite really fuckin’ accepted, princess.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #dad!gojo

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sgiandubh · 7 months

Text

Labor of love

I was very interested to see what S told Mark Gillespie on the last episode of the latter's WhiskyCast podcast, @bat-cat-reader immediately shared with us.

It was a most instructive 35 minutes. I listened to all of it, because I wanted to also hear Gillespie's tasting notes forThe Sassenach. And I regret nothing: once you get past the traditional (and a bit obnoxious) 'why The Sassenach?' question, you're in for some interesting news.

You can listen to it here, by the way:

Before anything, who is Mark Gillespie?

One of the most respected professionals in the very small world of alcohol specialized podcasters, with a 37 years work experience in media and broadcasting, spanning household names such as CNN, Bloomberg, Wall Street Journal, Gallup and MSNBC. But also, and this I found very interesting, given the current context, the owner of CaskMedia, a firm specialized not only in media production, but also marketing and PR.

The podcast was recorded at The Metropolitan Club's library, moments before the Keepers of the Quaich dinner, where S was a keynote speaker. So not 'just there for the Haggis Ceremony ' - a 'guest of honor' is never invited just for the show, people should have known better, eh?

S's 7 minutes interview starts at the 09:32 mark. Comments in brackets are mine.

Gillespie surely doesn't like to beat around the bush and after the customary niceties, asks a million-dollar question:

MG: 'I have to ask: did you have the troubles (problems?) in Germany straightened up?'

SH: ' Ha, ha, ha [not an organic giggle, but hey - gotta do what you gotta do, eh?]. Well, I am not entirely sure I should talk about it [speaks very quickly and through his teeth - visibly annoyed/nervous; not entirely sure I got it all correctly, so feel free to amend in comments], ah... ummm... not as yet... not as yet...ummm...we did fall into an issue with the name Sassenach, which was similar to a big brand in the US... ah!... in Germany, sorry... of a beer brand... I...I personally don't see the similarity [neither do I, S...neither do I], but I am sure once people taste our whisky, they'll know what it is, whatever the name is on it.'

Yes, this interview was probably rehearsed. Yes, Gillespie might have sent the questions to S/his people in advance for reviewing. No, he could not speak about a legally complicated situation before the final settlement with that Schoppingen beer brewer (penalties are probably still to be fixed and paid, but I will check that, so don't take my word for Gospel truth, yet). I will write separately about this whole thing, because I still think that was a very questionable decision of the EUIPO. Not because it royally pisses me off (so fucking unfair!), but because I really fail to see the proper legal reasoning and basis for it. His answer was perfect, under the circumstances. Absolutely perfect.

Anyways, FWIW, it would seem some sort of solution has already been found ('whatever the name is on it') and that most probably would be to rebrand it. And sell it on the German/EU market under a new name.

Lallybroch (https://trademarks.justia.com/981/67/lallybroch-98167525.html), perhaps? Time will tell, but that could explain this recent trademark application I didn't have time to properly look into, yet:

Further ahead (and fast forward through the cask version release, these things bore me to death), we land on another (as yet) unexploded ordnance:

MG: 'I have to mention your show MIK that you do with Graham McTavish, you visited a bunch of distilleries during that one... any visit in particular stands out?'

Now I am not very sure if that question was the best possible one, since that SAG-AFTRA strike is still an ongoing situation. And his answer was quite clever, changing the focus on their visit to Laphroaig's distillery on Islay and waxing lyrical about the casks, the peat, the landscape, etc. But other than a perfunctory and logical 'we', I heard absolutely nothing about McTavish, and it could have been so damn easy to further change the subject and mention his bourbon, with a few kind words. Therefore, I think things are pretty obviously not exactly on the sunny side, between the two. And I guess we all know why.

To end this long post on a cheerful note, I almost forgot to mention something very important. Answering a listener's question about Sassenach not being available in Rhode Island/part of New Jersey, S said something very interesting: 'obviously you can get it online, (...) we've just signed a deal with Southern Glazer's, so we're rolling it out. It is a limited batch, so you know, every year we do do a release and it is very limited, so it does tend to sell out pretty quick. But yes, it is available (...), but obviously you're not gonna see it in every bar, restaurant or retailer, because we just don't have enough of it. But online you can get it and great delivery service, it's very quick.'

I am taking two things home from this last answer: demand exceeds supply, which is both a blessing (solid yield, room for expansion) and a curse (lackadaisical market presence). On short to mid term, distribution will concentrate on the online market, with the help of Southern Glazer's superb infrastructure.

Remember the older guy he had lunch with in MIA, in May? You should, if you didn't focus on Mordor's inept babble about shirts, ballerinas and the like. That guy was instrumental into arranging the deal with Southern Glazer's. Just the biggest wine and spirits distributor on the US market, mind you.

Don't believe me? Check this out:

That company was founded in Florida. Its HQ is still in MIA. He didn't go there because he was looking for ballerinas at his birthday dinner. He went there because when these people are available to meet you, well: you leave everything aside and you damn GO.

Now who the hell is writing fanfiction, eh? You really should be ashamed, madam.

I rest my case.

#BoozeWars

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wreckedandpolemic · 19 days

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pls post the stuff abt their kids omg

lalalala i didn’t tear up at Any point during the writing of this (she lied)

so your eldest, alanis, is matty’s little mini-me. from the minute she’s born, you can tell; she has a full head of dark, thick hair that you know will sprout into his pretty ringlets, his brown eyes blink up at you from her sweet little face, and you can even see his nose scrunched up in her tiny little features. you’ve never felt more in love than with her tiny little body against your chest, tears in matty’s eyes as he holds you both. “oh, my god,” he breathes. “i’m a dad. hello, little one. i love you so much. god, i didn’t know i could love someone this much. she’s so tiny!” he coos, staring down at her adoringly.

“she looks like you,” you murmur, stroking over the bridge of her nose, her little face smaller than your palm.

tears are spilling down matty’s cheeks, his smile brilliant. “you think so?” he chuckles wetly. “god, hope that’s the only thing she gets from me. listen to me, baba,” he says seriously, addressing her like she can understand him, her eyes wide with fascination. “don’t be like me. be like your mum, yeah? ‘cause she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” your heart melts, and despite the lingering pain and slight delirium, you’ve never been happier.

as alanis gets a little older, though, it’s obvious she’s ignoring his warning, matty’s personality as obvious in her as his hair. she’s a little diva (“confident!” matty chimes in.), bossy and a know-it-all (“self-assured and clever! aren’t you, little lani-girl? my clever girl, don’t listen to mummy.”), but underneath she really is the sweetest little thing. matty’s absolutely enamoured with her, spoils her rotten, unable to say no to her big brown eyes. you can’t complain too much, though — you know from experience how difficult those eyes are to refuse <3

she’s nearly three when you tell her you’re pregnant again, slightly worried about her reaction because she’s so used to being your spoilt little baby. but her little face just lights up, toddling towards you on her chubby, unsteady legs and pressing her hands against your belly. “hi, baby!” she says excitedly. “baby soon, mummy?”

you laugh, picking her up and smothering her in kisses as matty tells her, “babies, sweetheart.”

alanis gasps, her eyes going comically wide as she goggles at you. “how many, mummy? four? seven?”

you shake your head, your own eyes widening. “no, baby. just two, promise.”

and, true enough, six months later, you bring vera and fiona home. alanis is obsessed with them, obsessed with being a big sister. she’s gentler with them than you’ve ever seen her, fascinated as they learn to grip onto her fingers. one night, you go to put her to bed and find her in the twins’ room, singing nursery rhymes and lullabies over their cribs. you sprint for matty, tugging him by the arm to show him, tears brimming in both your and his eyes.

“she’s so precious,” matty whispers, your head resting against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you.

“she’s just like you. aren’t you, baby?” you add when she looks up and sees you both watching her. “you’re dada’s little mini-me, right?”

alanis nods wildly, running as fast as her little legs will carry her into matty’s arms, giggling wildly as he spins her around. “my little girl,” he grins. “not so little anymore, are you? before i know it, you’ll be sixteen and kissing boys. or girls.”

she wrinkles her little nose, the expression so reminiscent of your husband that you can’t stifle your laugh. “kissing for mummy and dada. not for lani. yucky.” she says firmly.

matty nods proudly. “that’s right, sweetheart. yucky. no kissing ‘til you’re twenty-five. no, thirty.”

you scoff. “we were married before i was twenty-five, matthew.”

“god, i don’t know how your dad didn’t fu- flipping kill me. i get it, now,” he says, balancing alanis on his hip. “i need her to stay my little girl forever. okay, lani? gotta be dada’s sweet little baby girl forever,” he tells her seriously as she reaches up to tug on his curls. “you want a bedtime story?” he asks, and she agrees enthusiastically, matty singing to her under his breath as he carries her to her room. you watch them go, in their own little world, your chest swelling with love.

watching their little personalities develop as they grow up is the absolute highlight of your life. alanis gets more like matty every passing day, all unruly curls and biting wit. even when she grows into a moody teenager, the two of them stay heartwarmingly close, matching curly heads bent together, always whispering and giggling. vera starts out life as the easiest of your three girls, calm and easily entertained, rarely crying, and largely stays that way. in your house of dramatists and divas, you sometimes worry that she’s so laid-back that she’ll just disappear. but she has a built-in best friend in boisterous little fiona, always dragging her out from under a pile of books on some adventure or another.

matty’s never so happy as when he’s with his girls. he’ll never think twice about calling off or leaving work early if you need or even just want him to, always at your side. knowing your girls won’t grow up how you did, emotionally walled off in a house that wasn’t a home, warms your heart. your home is soundtracked by laughter, squabbling, the crackle of a vinyl player or the chimes of a piano.

you don’t realise how different their childhoods are to yours until alanis comes home, aged thirteen, and bemoans some embarrassing situation involving the girl she likes, dramatically throwing her head into your lap and her feet into matty’s. you didn’t come out to your parents until you were in college, and you’d never have gone to them with boy problems. so you cuddle your girl close, kiss her curly little head, offer her ice cream and a movie to feel better.

vera pokes her head around the door just as elle is starting to study for the lsats, tucking herself in between you and alanis and letting you squeeze her into your arms. when fiona joins you fifteen minutes later, matty declares you’re having a movie night and bedtime is cancelled, darting off to bring you all popcorn.

three hours later, your girls have fallen asleep in a pile on the sofa between you and your husband, and the pair of you are fighting off the sandman yourselves. you tuck them carefully into bed, their peaceful faces twitching into tiny smiles when you kiss their foreheads gently and creep into your own bed. eyes closing with matty’s arms around you, your last waking thoughts are of the perfect family you’ve built. this, you think, is home. this is love.

#i’m lowkey so nervous to post this #i have actually never wanted to write kidfic before this #i’m so obsessed with them :(#matty pls let me have your kids #matty healy x reader #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #writing #white and gold #alanis #vera #fiona #blurb

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elodieunderglass · 7 months

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Referring to you "anxieties of the culture" horror tropes post, I just watched the 1990 adaptation of IT and this comes less than a month after watching both Kolchak movies & starting the TV show. What do you think it was about the late-70s/early-80s that led to "the killer is a monster that hibernates for a set number of years before returning to perform the killings again, as a grim echo of the past, and it's up to the heroes to stop it now before it rears its ugly head again"? There's gotta be some "pass-the-buck" crisis that PEAKED in that time period, something that was a long time coming before that and may or may not have continued since. I don't think it's climate change, that wasn't really at Critical Mass yet until the HFC hairspray crisis of the mid-80s. Your thoughts?

(In reference to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/729604545735458816)

Oh that is SO interesting! I also like the Horrors of the Past that Re-Emerge. You get them in fantasy too. To some extent they’re quite nice, because they displace responsibility, allowing the heroes to grapple with something distanced. necromantically resurrected Zombie Nazis will always be a more appealing enemy, for a broad market, than your present-day actual real life QAnon uncle. You can blow up an Ancient Horror as much as you like, can’t you? You don’t need to worry about the tricky present-day political circumstances that birthed the serial killer if it’s actually an ancient time-travelling monster. Monsters are often articulated and described and used because they are “safe” in this way: a displaced thing that can be used. Separate from us in species, appearance, home planet, history of origin, motives, spacetime - the farther they are from us and our shared background, the more justifiable it is to nuke them from orbit, to make a splashy movie.

HOWEVER. As I said in that post - “horror reflects social anxieties” is a SUPER well-described piece of media study and you can read proper writing about that anywhere. I encourage you to seek it out! They say it much better than I do.

I also said in that post that I, myself, don’t watch horror/movies/film. It isn’t due to contempt for the genre, or fear of the content - I just can’t get into it or get immersed, which defeats the point of an immersive genre meant to provoke response. (For example, despite being explicitly told that I would love Stranger Things Season 4 and that I was required to write fic about it for a friend, I gave out at the beginning of season 2; despite being really fond of Welcome to Night Vale at a formative time of my life, I dropped out before StrexCorp. And those are things I generally liked, wanted to consume, and knew I would enjoy! It’s a me problem, and I’m not bothered by it. I am TOO BUSY.)

That’s just to say that I could spitball some thoughts, but I’d be out of my depth.

But here’s an idea. A very small minority of people in the notes took offence to me having meta thoughts about horror when I don’t consume the genre - and worse, saying them out loud, while also openly admitting that I’m out of my depth and would prefer an expert to say it better. “YOU are a COWARD,” they say. “The audacity of commenting on a trend in a genre that you don’t even watch.” “You complain so much but don’t even watch these films” “imagine writing all this with such a bad attitude about horror.” etc.

I think those people have effectively volunteered to write you an essay. They clearly have the horror-consuming chops! Perhaps not the reading comprehension … or analysis skills… but they definitely watch a lot more horror media than I do, so why not give them a crack at it? (This is jokes, don’t bother them.)

Alternatively - there are a lot of clever and savvy people with good takes around here, so they’re welcome to spin out some answers on this post.

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liyawritesss · 4 months

Text

ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ! ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ + ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴀᴛ

Characters: Insomniac!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: What would Miles’ life be like if he had his own Black Cat? With Felicia Hardy gone, someones gotta be the elusive, sweet-worded kitty cat to the all too pent up Spider-hero.

Warnings: A little bit of flirting mentions, but that’s about it!

A/N: Wow, I had this idea for the longest time, and somebody actually read my mind! I def wanna make this into a bigger thing, but for right now I’m just easing myself back into writing since I had a real bad writer’s block. Maybe with some time, I’ll be able to develop this into something more!

Edit: for some reason I had trouble posting this with the ask attached that requested this originally. And it was anonymous so I can't at the requester, but if you're still around, I hope this satisfies you!

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @lulu-network @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @queenofthespiderverse @onlyperc @starsoir @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @movie-enhusiast22 @l0stari @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream @bayb @ykimobessed @soilmayo

Tag Notes: If your name is not greyed, I couldn't tag you for some reason! Sorry about that. Also, I will now be including Insomniac!Miles in these Spiderverse! tags I have!

First and foremost I think that Miles would want to think you’re cool as hell, but given what he knows about Felicia Hardy and subsequently Peter and her’s relationship, homeboy is trying NOT to have history repeat itself with you. Because no matter how cool your outfit is or the fact that you pack a mean punch, you’re bad news and he needs to keep you at arms length. But when he gets to know you, that obviously becomes harder and harder the more the two of you cross paths.

I like to think that you guys meet in school first. You’re a new student this semester, placed right in Miles’ homeroom. You weren’t hard to notice with your striking white hair, always had earbuds in your ears, and could be caught humming tunes throughout the day. You become friends due to your shared love for music and art, and when you start using the same excuses he’d use for his friends and family about why you couldn’t hang out as often anymore, he’s too blindsided by your friendship (and the teeny tiny crush he’s developed) to question it

Though when the two of you meet mask to mask, however, it’s a different story. You play this elusive and secretive role so good as much as he considers you a rival, Miles also finds himself admiring the way that you’re so graceful with your getaways, and the fact that you are always teasing him doesn’t help either.

You laid it on thick, but after a while of swinging around the city trying to catch you, he’d gotten used to your flirting and the jabs you’d take at him, even throwing back a few of his own. He’s a smooth kid, learned the game from his uncle of course, and just as hot as you’d get him under the mask, you found yourself trying to keep down the heat rising to your ears whenever he came back with something clever and sweet. It was a sweet cat and mouse game the two of you played - even though technically one of you wasn’t a mouse.

The jig is up, however, when a bigger threat the city is posed and you’re caught in the middle of it and are badly injured when trying to fight it off. Miles is quick to rescue you, but the pride he feels from saving the elusive Black Cat is short-lived when he realizes that the face of the vigilante behind the half torn mask is none other than someone he considers one of his best friends.

It gets awkward after that, and you’re quick to catch on as to why, because you, having deduced who the black and red-clad secondary Spiderman of New York truly was, knew how this would go if a conversation wasn’t had. And you tell him straight up that this life isn’t a game to you; you’ve been brought up in it and know the dangers and the risks, so he can’t talk you out of it. And if it was a deal breaker to your friendship, then, even though it would hurt like hell, you would have no problem in cutting Miles off.

And just like that, what Miles feared had come true - it was the same story with Peter and Felicia all over again - and yet, he still made an effort to try and see things from your perspective, to make it to where history didn’t HAVE to repeat itself, knowing that any feelings he’d have for you were no good in his line of work.

You know it too, though. Whatever budding feelings that were happening between the two of you couldn’t come to fruition, because Miles was a superhero for the people, and you were just a street cat looking out for yourself. There was a stark difference in the way each of you looked over your shoulders for constant threats to your existences, yours debatably being worse than Miles’ and you couldn’t drag him down with you.

But there still was this string that kept the two of you together. Perhaps it was the fact that you still had classes together in school. Perhaps it was the fact that you lived right next to each other and it was impossible to avoid one another throughout the day. Or perhaps it was the fact that, despite being two completely different people in two completely different lives, with and without the mask, you both still wanted to make it work; whatever would be between the two of you.

Even though you butt heads like water to a flame, Miles protected you with all his might, and you helped him in the hardest of cases with any intel you could gather. No, you couldn’t be together, but you’d still look out for each other; there was no avoiding that. You were his Black Cat, after all. And he was your Little Spider

#black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #black spiderman #spiderman #spiderman miles morales #miles morales spider man #insomniac miles morales #insomniac spider man #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x blackcat!reader

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ilykaveh · 1 year

Text

— upon paying a visit to your local tattoo parlour, you leave more than satisfied.

❀ — content: sub fem reader, tattoo artist au, finger sucking, body writing, teasing, talk of toji being a bad dad.

"what can i do ya for, princess?"

though you rolled your eyes at the pet name, your stomach did a flip as the attractive, inky haired individual posed the question. instead of thinking up a clever retort, you merely shook his flirtatious smirk off and explained your ideas for the intricately detailed floral arrangement that you wished to have tattooed on your sternum.

"got any other tats, doll? it's gonna hurt, better make sure y'r prepared."

"yes," you mumbled weakly, finding yourself somewhat intimidated as toji stood up from his chair. his sheer size was frightening, and his black tank top that revealed his own heavily tattooed skin did nothing to soften the man's image.

"don't be nervous; i don't bite. follow me and we'll get ya set up. name's toji, by the way."

you trailed few steps behind him, eyes flickering between the dark lines adorning his skin. you could make out different sized depictions of koi fish and dragon scales, of pagodas and spider lilies. there was even some lettering in amongst the patterns — you assumed that they were the names of those important to him: "megumi" and "tsumiki".

he led you to a backroom and motioned for you to take a seat as he started to set up his station. toji pulled out a folder full of his premade sketches and, lo and behold, you fell in love at first sight. looking up to him with your wide and bright doe eyes, you explain precisely what you wanted as well as placement.

"i'm gonna need ya to take your shirt off, doll," toji instructed, "gotta look at where i'll be tattooin'."

heat rushed to your cheeks at the question, shrouding you with embarrassment. you knew that you'd have to get topless in order to get your desired tattoo, but you hadn't imagined that the artist would be so darn attractive. it took him looking away, busying himself with his inks before you could muster up the courage to slip your shirt over your head. it left you clad in your lacy pink bra that perfectly complimented your skin tone, or at least that's what toji thought. he had to maintain his professional composure, however, you were making it incredibly difficult.

"bra too, sweetheart," he requested, "i can give ya some pasties if ya want, but i gotta see that skin,"

you debated his offer, though ultimately declined — they wouldn't make a massive difference anyways. leaning forward in your chair as you reached around to unhook your bra, only to fumble with the clasp.

"need a hand there?" toji smirked, an empty offer masquerading as a sleazy joke. he hadn't anticipated for you to say yes.

you'd have his hands on you at some point, so why not allow him to help? toji's large hands made quick work of your bra, skillful fingers unhooking it. in an attempt to alleviate your nervousness, you tried to make small talk with the man - but what came out was certainly not what you intended.

"it looks like you're quite experienced at this," you stuttered as soon as the words left your lips, wishing to suck them back in. toji cocked a brow as he looked at you, wondering if you'd really just made a comment on how experienced with women you perceived him to be.

"i- i mean- your tattoos! not, umm, anything else!" you spluttered, mentally cursing at yourself.

"i've done my fair share." he chuckled, loving how flustered you already were. "tattoos and women, that is."

you truly couldn't decipher the seriousness behind his tone, even wondering if he was mocking you. "i, erm, i think i'll go. . ." you mumbled as you reached for your discarded shirt.

"come on now, sweetheart, i'm only messing with ya. it's all business here. . ." he gave you that look, as if sizing you up, before adding a barely audible "unless ya ask nicely." that was punctuated with a wink.

you allowed yourself to listen, getting yourself comfortable in the chair, and toji began preparing you as he did all of his clientele. the pair of you just made small talk for the time being, mostly him talking about his own tattoos and how he got into the business, including sharing that the names on his back were of his children. that line in particular made your heart drop, because of course a guy this attractive was already in a relationship.

"i bet both your kids think you're the coolest," you replied, shivering slightly as toji's calloused hands graze over your sensitive skin. "you know, having a tattoo artist for a dad."

"wouldn't know," he responded flatly. "both live with their mothers; i jus' see 'em every now and then. it's better that way, i guess — ain't go no asshole to fuck 'em up."

"oh," you really weren't expecting that revelation, let alone for him to be so open regarding such deeply personal details. "i'm sorry."

"'s fine, really."

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. you internally reprimanded yourself for ruining the atmosphere, and toji was left to dwell in thoughts of what could have been if it had worked out with his past lovers. it wasn't until the man accidentally brushed his hand over your nipple that the uncomfortable silence that had descended finally ceased. and for the third time during this short appointment, you begged for a mystical black hole to appear and to swallow you whole.

you moaned as toji's thumb danced over your skin, albeit for a brief moment. he looked at you in both shock and awe, amazed at how pretty your whimper sounded — imagine what he could do if he was actively trying to pleasure you. his confidence once again grew evident due to the smirk plastered on his features, akin to cheshire cat leering at you whilst you hurried to gather your things and leave.

"what's the rush, princess? got a hot date to get to?"

you didn't have anything to say, simply staring at the flooring as your face heated up in embarrassment.

"c'mon, i see the way ya look at me. you ain't foolin' no one, darlin'. now how about ya sit yourself back down and i can give ya a little bit more than a tattoo?"

he'd read you like an open book, even having picked up on the pet names that made your knees buckle most.

"if it's any consolation, sweetheart, i think y'r the prettiest thing that's ever walked into this shop."

and with that, toji inched towards you. his large hand cupped your cheek, caressing your soft skin. he gave you ample opportunities to push him away or to withdraw yourself, but you failed to make even the slightest indication of resistance as he moved to plant his lips on your own. you would have expected a man of his genre to be harsh and bitter, yet every little shift of each muscle was laced with a sincerity and gentleness that you hadn't felt before. kissing him back with a certain fervour, you could feel the corners of his lips turn upwards and the scarred skin around his lips graze over your own.

toji’s hands found your tits, eagerly groping at your chest whilst paying extra close attention to your sensitive nipples. he took a moment to move his mouth downwards, trailing a line of sloppy kisses towards your stiff bud. you couldn’t hold back your whines as the man took your nipple into his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around and suckling lightly. instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist, working to pull him closer to you. there was an evident bulge in his tight jeans, and you brushing against it drove toji absolutely feral as he ravaged your body.

“fuck, princess,” he growled against your skin, his hand edging dangerously close to your waistband. your mind felt too hazy to conjure an adequate response, resorting to bucking your hips against toji’s hand. although he understood, he wanted to hear you say it. “big girl words, darlin’,”

a group of strangled moans and barely coherent pleas fell from your lips, only for toji to shoot you a playful yet threatening glare. “please…” you mumbled, looking away in embarrassment once again. “wan’ you to touch me, toji,”

“atta girl.”

and with that, toji shuffled you out of the rest of your clothing, not halting until you were fully bare underneath him. the slight cower you had perfectly contrasted the anticipation and lust present in your blown pupils that practically shone under the studio’s lighting. you crossed your arms over your chest, not liking feeling so exposed. toji wasn’t a fan of this, however, for he quickly scooped up your wrists and pinned them above your head with a single hand. the other moved between your legs, assessing how wet you already were for him. his thumb caught your clit as it moved over your arousal, eliciting a drawn out cry of his name.

“you’re already drippin’, princess,”

you opened your lips to retort but failed to utter a single sound before toji slipped his thumb into your mouth, commanding you to suck it clean. you followed his orders perfectly, looking up at him with the most innocent, wide eyes that you could muster. once satisfied, you released the digit with a lewd “pop!”.

“shit, baby,”

without letting go of your wrists, toji used his free hand to shimmy down his jeans and boxers, revealing his heavy cock. it slapped against his stomach, standing tall and already leaking beads of pre. your eyes widened at the sight, wondering if the man actually planned on putting it in you.

as though he had sensed your concerns, toji positioned himself to rest his cock against your stomach, getting a view of just how deep he’d be inside of you. smirking once again, he couldn’t help himself from grabbing a marker from his tattoo station and drawing a line across your lower stomach, just above the tip of his cock.

“ready f’me, hon?” he asked, waiting for you to nod your head before he sunk his cock deep into your cunt. it was a stretch at first, with toji going as slowly as possible so as not to hurt you. strings of curses filled the room, accompanied with the squelch of the man working his way into your cunt. his free hand sought out your swollen clit, alternating between massaging delicate circles and swiping side to side in order to see what you liked best.

by the time that toji had finally bottomed out inside of you, tears were brimming along your lash line. he stayed still for a moment, allowing you to better adjust to having his fat cock buried inside of you.

"you know, darlin'," he began to muse, "you'd look real fuckin' cute with a tattoo here."

toji picked up his marker once again, and sketched a small rose on the left side of your stomach. each stroke of his pen was done with precision and care; in that moment he was truly an artist painting his blank canvas. it took him a few minutes until he was done, asking you what you thought of it.

"can always get ya something a little more slutty if ya want," he added before doodling on your inner thigh, and a set of butterflies soon appeared on your skin. at this point, you'd been cockwarming him for a while and were ready for him to fuck your brains out. this resulted in feeble attempts to buck your hips against toji.

"stop fuckin' moving, sweetheart. i'll ruin that pretty little cunt of yours in a sec, yeah? just gimme five more minutes."

that five turned to ten, and ten to twenty. your entire body ached for an orgasm, and couldn't take toji's teasing any longer. at this point, he'd sketched a good few tattoos on your thighs, and was currently working on his pride and joy for you: a filthy womb tattoo, with intricate spirals linked to a heart in the centre. with a few final swishes of his pen, toji left you with his name written inside of the heart.

as soon as you heard the clatter of him putting down the pen, your pussy clenched in anticipation. toji did consider asking you to beg for it, but you looked so fucking cute covered in his markings that he couldn't hold himself back for a moment longer. he slid all of the way out of your cunt and pushed all of the way back in, beginning with a slower pace. if it wasn't for his grip on your wrists, you would be dragging your nails down his muscular back.

toji's balls slapped against the fat of your ass as he sped up a little bit, brushing over the sweet spot that made your back arch. "fuck, darlin', if ya keep squeezin' me like that, i ain't gonna last,"

even with such little effort, toji had you falling apart underneath him. you admired the flexing of his biceps as he used his grip on your wrists as leverage to fuck into you, beads of sweat running down them. because of how long he’d already been in you, both of you had heightened sensitivities and your respective orgasms were already on the horizon.

you’d been reduced to inaudible begs of “more”, unable to find the strength for anything else. you came with a cry, gushing all over toji’s cock. your cunt pulsed around him, sucking him in as though she was craving his cum. it took every ounce of self control for toji not to fill your pussy with his seed, as he instead opted for pulling out of you. although your babbles shifted to complaints at the loss of contact, the man released onto your lower stomach with a few languid pumps of his cock, defiling your pretty self with his thick, ivory ropes.

he held you still for a moment before placing a kiss to your chest and putting himself back into his jeans: if it wasn’t for the sweat that stuck his raven hairs to his forehead, passers by wouldn’t have expected that anything else was up. meanwhile, you were left lying on his seat, covered in both his sketches and cum, completely nude - you’d even left a wet spot between your legs. toji worked to clean you up, quietly reassuring you that you were okay and praising you for having done such a good job for him. knowing that he couldn’t consciously tattoo you now, he offered to drive you home to make sure that you were safe. it was a simple gesture, the gravity of it only becoming clear upon realising exactly how out of character this was for him.

toji had taken a liking to you, and the phone number that he’d left scrawled on your thigh showed as much.

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