Tumgik
#oh come on that one was a little too obvious
bisexualiteaa · 21 hours
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could you write something where cooper is talking the reader through it, but like, super sweetly and lovesick?
Talk Me Through It, Baby
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!! And some domestic fluff)
CW: NSFW MDNI!! Established relationship, lingerie, flirting, cursing, reader being all enticing, 🤭 p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, domestic Cooper, irradiated cream pie, fingering, oral, (fem receiving) praise, Cooper talking you through sex and making love to you, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from TV series
AN: the creative juices are flowing people! I’m loving it, thank you all to have given me asks, it has been so much fun getting to write stuff for you guys! I think i may be done posting for today and have a busy rest of the week ahead of me but keep a look out within the coming weeks for those whose asks I have not done yet! I haven’t forgotten you lovelies, I promise ❤️ hope I did your ask justice, Anon! Enjoy some smut and domestic fluff! 🥰🤠
It’s days like these that made you remember just how nice it was to live a domestic life back in the day. No worries of murderers at your doorstep, no worries about food supply running too low, radiation sickness, it was just perfect. You could bake, you could cook whatever you could get your hands on, but the best part? Was when Cooper walked through that door after a long day to see the beautiful smile that would light up your face when you would greet him. You’d come up to him, greet him with a “welcome home, honey!” Followed by a sweet, soft kiss as his hands would fall to your hips once he’d make it through the door of your home in the settlement. You wished it could be like old times, but this was the closest to that that you’d gotten and you were proud of it. You had a nice home that almost was completely patched of all holes, working appliances thanks to the electricity you got going, clean water, food and some furniture to really spruce things up.
It was the activities that transpired after dinner however that left you both the most excited for when we would be home. You smiled cheekily as you returned from the bathroom, sitting against the doorway clad in a nightgown that you had made for yourself from collected fabrics. It was soft and silky, yet slightly see through, adorned by lace cups and lace around the bottom as it flowed out yet also hugged your frame. One where it left very little to the imagination of what lay underneath. “What do you think?” You asked excitedly yet with a sensual calm tone, making Cooper look up at you with a grin. He whistled as his eyes roamed your figure, loving the way it hugged your curves just right and let your pert nipples poke through the lace. “What do I think?” He asked, standing up and walking towards you, meeting you half way as you sauntered into the room. “I think you look like a dream come true, sweet pea” he said, his hands coming to rest on your hips as yours looped around his neck with a smile. “You like it? I made it myself” You asked, knowing by the tent in his briefs and the smirk on his lips that that answer was obvious. “Oh I love it” he said genuinely, trailing his hands along the smooth, silky fabric as he looked down at you with a soft smile before pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed contentedly into it, removing his hat from his head and placing it on your own with a chuckle into the kiss. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were propositionin’ me, little lady” he said, making you grin up at him with that half lidded look of mischief and love in your eyes that he just couldn’t get enough of. “Maybe I am” you answered as your eyes flitted between his and his lips, your hands coming to rest against his chest softly, just enough touch to tease, yet enough to make him chase after you for more. “Then let’s take it for a spin, hmm?” He asked, making you giggle softly before a light gasp left your lips as he leaned down, planting sweet kisses to your neck, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your arms held him tighter, pressing your chest against his as his teeth found all your weak spots, being sure to exploit them to work you up even further and hear those beautiful sounds he loves so much. “Cooper…” you sighed, your head falling back at the feeling of his rough hands running along your body, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. Between kneading the pleasantly soft flesh of your ass, to fondling your breasts, he just couldn’t get enough of you.
“Always look so pretty for me, sugar” he said, making you smile at his heartfelt compliment as he worked at the straps of your hand-tailored nightgown. “I always do my best for you” you replied, making him chuckle. “Don’t need to, you’re perfect as is” he responded, watching as it fell off of you with ease, the fabric pooling at your feet as he kissed you. He felt your hands smooth over his shirt as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the gin and sweet cherries you had with dinner, making him groan. You always tasted so damn sweet, so addictive. Sugar-Bombs be damned, you were 100% of his daily value of sugar and he wouldn’t want it any other way. When he noticed you had nothing on underneath, he couldn’t help but grin. “Look at you, you’re just so damn gorgeous, what’d a bastard like me ever do to get so lucky?” he complimented, making you smile giddily at his continued compliments. “By being you, Mr. Cooper Howard. Wouldn’t want you any other way” you replied, making him give something between a groan and a chuckle as your lips came to his neck. “The bed looks awful empty, what’dya say we change that?” You asked, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed as he chuckled. “I like the way you think, sugar” he replied, watching as you sat down on the bed before him, looking to him expectantly. “C’mon don’t be shy now, tell me what you want” he said, but rather than speak your mind, your hands spoke for you, finding their way to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up to where he’d take it off. He chuckled. “How ‘bout these? Want these off too, sweet pea?” He asked with a grin, knowing the answer before you even shook your head yes to confirm it. “Go on, take ‘em off for me. I know you like it more when I let you do it” he said softly, bringing your dainty small hands to his belt buckle, watching and helping you undo it and the button to his pants before taking a hold of his zipper with your teeth, and bringing it down. He groaned watching you toy with him, his fingers gliding through your hair, scratching your scalp before moving down to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “Eyes up here, darlin’” he teased, a grin on his lips as your pretty little doe eyes squinted with your smile, completely love drunk. He watched as you placed your fingers to his hips, helping pull down his pants and briefs as you looked him in the eyes the entire time. “Good girl, so good at it you ain’t even gotta look” he said, making you bite your lip and giggle as excitement was nearly tearing you apart, but you were being good. Patience was key, he loved drawing things out with you to where you were left absolutely crazy for each other.
“Sit your pretty self back some, let me have my dessert” he said, making a pleasant tingle flow through you straight to your throbbing clit. You did as you were told, scooting back a little and resting back on your hands as you spread your legs for him. “There ya go, nice ‘n wide for me, perfect. Look at you, so pretty for me. ‘f I had film in that old camera I’d snap a picture just to keep around of this sight” he said, making you grin up at him, the look in your eyes full of need as he got down on his knees at the edge of the bed. His lips trailed searing hot kisses up along the insides of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most before placing the most feathered light kiss to your clit. Your hips bucked up involuntarily out of need and anticipation, a moan leaving you before you whined as he lavished the other thigh with kisses. He gave an amused chuckle. “Patience sweetheart, you’re doin’ so good for me. I promise it’ll pay off” he said, trailing back up to your soaking cunt where he’d placed soft, searing kisses to your clit, making your eyes flutter shut once more and your head drop back with a moan. He groaned at your taste, at the way one of your hands rested on his bald head to tell him how good he made you feel. He looked up at you as he let his tongue lull out, running it up your slit to your clit, flicking the tip of it against your sensitive nub. You keened at the sensation, your chest rising and falling drastically with the harsh inhales and exhales of your pants and moans, a small smile turned the corners of your lips as your eyes were shut. “Cooper…” you moaned, and it was music to his ruined ears. “Taste so good sugar, I swear it’s like you’re made of it” he said, placing a playful bite to the inside of one of your gummy thighs, earning a louder, surprised yet pleased moan in response. “Fuck…” you panted, making him chuckle as one of his fingers prodded your entrance, sliding in all the way to the knuckle as his tongue flicked against your clit in a rhythm that had you bucking your hips to meet his mouth. “Feels s’ good, please..” you begged, feeling him curl his finger inside of you to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves. He was going to be the death of you one of these days, you swore it, he was too damn good at this. He watched as you looked down at him, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him eating you like a man starved. He gave a wink at you as your gazes met, smirking into you as he felt you get closer and closer. “That’s the spot, ain’t it sugar? That’s it, doin’ so good for me, I know you’re close. Let go for me honey, I’ve gotchya” he said, keeping that delicious pace with his tongue and fingers rubbing that spot inside, it didn’t take long for you to do just as he asked. With a moan you came on his fingers and his tongue, a low, feral groan leaving his throat and rumbling his chest as you did. “Good girl” he praised, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers. his mouth and chin shining with your slick and his spit. He used his fingers to wipe it off, looking you in the eyes as he sucked on his fingers to remove it, groaning at the taste as he licked his lips clean.
He climbed up on the bed over top of you, leaning down to kiss you which you graciously accepted, unbothered by the taste of you on his lips and tongue. “Ready sweetheart?” He asked, making you shake your head yes at him, enjoying how desperate you were for him. He leaned back to rub his tip through your slit, collecting your slick and mingling with the pre-cum that beaded out from it. “Don’t tease, Coop..” you begged, making him chuckle. “I know, I know, just makin’ sure I don’t hurt ya” he said, before easing his way into your tight cunt. Didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, the stretch always burned at first but subsided into nothing but absolute bliss. “Doin’ so good for me, doin’ okay sweetheart?” He asked once he was fully sheathed inside you, waiting for you to tell him when to move and making sure you weren’t in pain. You looked up at him, that smile that he swore was the brightest thing in the universe eased all his worries. “I’m good, Coop. You can move whenever you’re ready” you said, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you again, starting a soft, slower pace. He didn’t want to fuck you tonight, didn’t want to have sex with you, no. He wanted to make love to you, show you how much he loves you, show you how much he worships the ground you walk on. He wanted to give you everything you ever wanted and more just to see that pretty little smile in return, it’s all he ever asked for. You both moaned into your shared kiss, his one hand holding yours by your head, fingers intertwined with each other as the other rested on your hip. Your free hand roamed along his scarred back, your head tipping back as his thrusts were deep and calculated. You shut your eyes as his lips roamed your neck, once again abusing the sensitive skin to hear your voice sing for him. “Feel so good honey, like you were made for me” he said, making you hum at the thought, you certainly liked to think so. “Maybe I- hah~ was” you said between moans, making him chuckle dryly. “Maybe you were” he said, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, his tongue laving over one of your nipples as his other hand toyed with the other between his thumb and finger. You moaned as your head fell back against the pillows, hair fanning around your head like a halo. You were ethereal, he swore it. His perfect little angel to keep him out of too much trouble, but just naughty enough to keep him on his toes.
“I love you so much, darlin’. Love everything you do for me” he said, making you smile warmly. “I love you too Cooper, and everything you do to- I mean *for* me” you said playfully, making him laugh at your witty joke, feeling the way your gummy walls hugged him tight, fluttering around his cock as he kept a good steady pace. “Felt you tighten around me, go ‘head, let go for me baby. I’m here” he said, bringing his thumb down to rub tight circles against your clit, leaving your back arching off the mattress and a wide O shaping your lips. “Fuck…Cooper, cum with me, please…inside” you said, making him groan into your neck as he buried his face there. “Anything for you sweet pea” he replied, moaning into your shoulder as you held onto him for dear life, knowing your orgasm would hit you hard. And that it did. You saw white stars flash in your vision, as your body arched up from the mattress once more, pressing yourself to him as your walls clamped down around him, milking him of everything he had to offer you as he painted your walls white. You panted as you rode out your highs, his lips coming to yours for a sweet, gentle kiss before resting his forehead against yours.
As you both lay there, basking in the after glow, he couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked teasingly, making him chuckle. “Just that I found the love of my life” he said, so casually as if it were common knowledge, making you give him that beaming smile he loved so much. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing the irradiated skin with your thumb as you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his once more. “Good, because I’ve been lookin’ at mine for a few months now, wondering when you’d finally admit it” you said, making him laugh along with you as he pulled out, got you both cleaned up and hooked you up to some RadAway. “Maybe I’ll go down to the market and getchya that ring you were eyein’ last time we went” he said, making you look at him astonished. “Oh Cooper, you ain’t gotta do that! You know how many caps that’ll run you?” You asked, making him laugh. “Does it look like I care? Besides, if it’s that ridiculously expensive, no one ever said anythin’ about spendin’ the caps if the person sellin’ it ended up missin’ somehow” he said with a grin, making you grin as you kissed him, only he could make murder look so good.
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sincerelyrki · 1 day
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everyone should know
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your boyfriend couldn’t just sit around and watch another man shamelessly flirt with you. he had to do something, even if it meant revealing your relationship.
pairing : idol!secretbf!sunghoon x fem!reader
warnings + genre : suggestive themes. secret relationship. jealousy. reader is said to have hair long enough to braid.
wc : 626
a/n : i struggle with writing drabbles but i hope this one turned out alright <3 i’m trying to update (almost) everyday whether it be a new miniskirt chapter or a oneshot (tmr it will be a miniskirt update, promise)
perm written taglist : @vousty
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Sunghoon’s unmoving glare seemed to have no effect on his eldest member, his attention drawn to you like a moth. 
A flirty smile sat on Heeseung’s lips the entire time the two of you conversed, knees bumping as your body was bent toward each other.
The entire dinner Sunghoon had to listen to your cute giggles, watching as you playfully knocked your shoulders against the man sitting directly beside you.
He struggled with restraining himself, his legs almost shaking the entire table as they unrelentlessly bounced. 
His hands were in no better condition, knuckles ghostly white as he clutched his utensils tight in his palms. 
“Your hair is so pretty, did you braid it yourself?” The second Heeseung’s hand gently tugged on one of your braids, Sunghoon snapped.
The entire table flinched in shock as Sunghoon’s fork came slamming down, his plate chattering due to the force that suddenly came down around it.
Sunghoon rounded the table, his fingers wrapping around Heeseung’s wrist as he pulled his hand away from you.
 “I did it.” He declared a little bit too loud, looks getting thrown your way from the staff sitting around the neighbouring tables. 
Heeseung raised his hands in retreat, eyebrows raised as he matched Sunghoon’s look. “It looks good, but I think I could’ve done better.”
He gave you one more glance, winking at you as he finished his sentence, “much better.”
Everyone shared a look, their legs pushing their chairs out as they prepared to jump in between the two males before they could begin fighting in front of their entire staff.
“Oh really?” Sunghoon mused, head tilting to the side as he pretended to think about the possibility of Heeseung’s words being true.
Heeseung confidently nodded his head, his hands lowering to cross across his chest, his chin held high as he looked up at the two of you. 
Sunghoon moved his head to face you, his hand coming up to trace along one of the braids. “Now that you mention it, she was moving quite a lot.” 
Your jaw dropped at Sunghoon’s obvious innuendo, heat rushing throughout your body as everyone seemed to understand what he was referring to.
Sunghoon didn’t wait to see Heeseung’s response, turning his back to him as he gently entwined your hands. 
He led you back to his seat, his hand never leaving yours as he once again sat down.
He spread his legs, his knees separating as he slid his hips lower down the chair. “Sit,” He patted his thigh once, his hand tugging against yours as he pulled you forward.
Sunghoon helped you sit across him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tugged your back taut against his chest. 
“Isn’t it so much more comfortable over here?” Sunghoon purposely breathed down your neck, his cocky smile growing as he felt your body shiver. 
“I guess he hasn’t realized that you’re my girl yet, I think we need to make it a little more…” He trailed off, his hands tightening around your waist before he began placing small pecks along the base of your neck, “obvious.”
“No one knew, they wouldn’t have sat me beside someone else if they did.” You almost started defending your close friend but automatically backtracked after realizing how angry Sunghoon was.
“That’s the problem, everyone should know.” 
“Should they?” Sunghoon knew you were just teasing him at this point, riling him up for your amusement. But he still took your words seriously, imagining the look on Heeseung’s face after he finds out about the sincerity of your relationship.
“They’ll all know by tonight.” 
It was safe to say that they all knew about the two of you by the time the sun set, Heeseung getting the hint right away.
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masterstr0ke · 1 day
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Hihi, i wanted to make a request (if it’s open) Your last aventurine and welt pieces were beautiful 🩷
Dr ratio hasn’t gotten the time to spend time with you lately and he works hard, but you are his supportive spouse so you bring him snacks and remind him to take breaks in between and kiss the cheek of his alabaster head as a treat (he has it on) before you do your own work. Now all he can think about is you for the rest of the day (perhaps he would have preferred it on his skin too)
If you don’t write for him that’s fine ^^
No need to rush, tyt! ☁️
YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.
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HUSBAND!RATIO x GN!READER
WARNINGS: annoyed Ratio, jealousy over an inanimate object (?), drowning in work. 2nd person POV (you/yours/yourself)
WORD COUNT: 494
AUTHOR NOTE: i know what you are👀
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The day was slow at the Intelligentsia Guild, especially for the infamous Dr. Ratio.
Since the day began, all he has been doing is deal with insufferable morons with a worn-out shoe for a brain! Such imbeciles, Ratio believes time is precious, but unfortunately his students are dumb enough to waste it, even dumber to waste his time by asking how old he is or if he’s single or not.
Those fools don’t have to know that at-work Dr. Ratio is different than at-home Veritas, and can’t they figure out the question themselves by paying the slightest bit of attention to the silver band on his left hand’s ring finger? His attitude should’ve intimidated them enough for their minds to not go beyond the assumption that all he does at home is shower, eat work and sleep.. right? At least, that’s what he thinks.
However, he hasn’t been paying enough attention to the beautiful person sharing the other ring with him; the one he said his vows to. All he does when he goes back home is shower, eat, work and sleep. That’s it. He doesn’t even have time to glance your way, and that angers him.
He put on his alabastor head; His expression was too sour to welcome anyone who dares enter his office besides higher-ups. And just as he was about to start working in peace, a knock erupted at his office’s door, great. Ratio grumbled quietly. “Come in.” He spoke in an authoritative tone, expecting this to be a higher-up or an idiot student.
You open the door, a box in your hand, and a wide smile that rivals the sun in its shiny glory. “Veritas!” You call out as a greeting, before rushing to his desk. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You forgot your lunch at my office,” Oh, so that’s where his lunch went. You also worked at the Intelligentsia Guild, also being a teacher of high regard. Opposites attract, they say. All of your students love you, and you’re friends with everyone; An obvious contrast from your husband. You place the lunchbox on his desk with your left hand, the band on your ring finger glistening in the sunlight, the source being the window behind Veritas’ chair.
You then lean in and kiss the cheek of the alabastor head, then the lips. It wasn’t enough, since the head lacked the warmth of skin, but you were content. You give him a smile before you head out the door, just like that.
Ratio slowly took off the alabastor head, looking at it in disgust as if it owes him something. It does, it took away his lover’s kisses. As childish as it sounds, he’s been craving a kiss for a while. He supposes he has to wait until he goes back home, maybe he’ll get all the kisses he wants. In exchange of his work being put aside, even for a little while.
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vixstarria · 2 days
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Communication
Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.
This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.
Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!
Read on AO3
Astarion x f!Tav
Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time Tav and Astarion actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.
Tav is a half-elf bardlock. I'm calling her Tav in this fic, but if you know you know.
Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst
TW: some very casual violence and murder
Approximately 3.9k words. 
“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Tav. “Let’s go!” 
The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area. 
“Go where?” she asked.
“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.” 
“Now..?”
The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.
It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.
“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”
Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.
“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Tav.
It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.
“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Tav asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before. 
“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”
He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Tav smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.
“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.
This… This was new, particularly in public, and Tav bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him. 
Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning. 
“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.
“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.
Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Tav told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.
“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”
“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Tav. 
“Do indulge me.” 
“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.” 
“Such as?” 
“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered. 
“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?” 
“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh. 
Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit. 
“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.” 
She said the first phrase that came to mind.  
Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Tav knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.  
“So let’s start with what you think you just said.” 
“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Tav gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?” 
“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?” 
“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Tav said thoughtfully. 
“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.
“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.” 
Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.
“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Tav. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.” 
They found a place to sit down.
“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Tav.
“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”
“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Tav asked quietly.
Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question. 
“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.
“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.
They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.
“Will you stay with me when all this is over?” 
Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes. 
It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like. 
“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully. 
“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive. 
“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...” 
“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause. 
She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails. 
“Stay and do what..?” 
“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”
“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”
“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?” 
“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.” 
They sat in silence for a while. 
“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.” 
Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued. 
“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.” 
“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat. 
“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.” 
“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause. 
“...What?” 
“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.” 
She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.
“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?” 
“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”
“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.
None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.
“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”
“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.
“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”
“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.
“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”
Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away. 
Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.
They walked back in silence. 
Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering. 
“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion. 
They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.
Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage. 
“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Tav up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons. 
“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.” 
Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed. 
The leader laughed.
“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”
Astarion’s blood boiled.
He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole. 
“Take the ones behind,” Tav snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing. 
He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Tav spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.
The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter. 
The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Tav followed behind him.
The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing. 
Astarion turned back to witness Tav standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.
Tav barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch. 
A domination spell. 
Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.
 “Kneel,” Tav commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.
“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him. 
Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides. 
“…What?”
The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.
“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.
“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…
He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever. 
“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”
She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.
“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”
“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.
“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?” 
“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”
She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him. 
“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising. 
“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.
“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”
“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.
“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?” 
She spat on the ground. 
“I’m going back to camp.”
She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.
It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade. 
He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back. 
No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?
It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.
And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.
But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…
There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.
Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.
He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog. 
Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less. 
He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her. 
He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.
“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.
“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.
“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”
“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up. 
Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.
“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”
He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.
“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.
Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.
“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.
“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.
“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”
They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading!
Series master list
Next in series - A night at the inn
AO3
~~~~~
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corpupine · 1 day
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I've been doing a lot of thinking...and I feel like I need to scream this out somehow even though I'm sure it's been talked about before (and I'm putting it under a readmore because it gets long).
No matter what, in any playthrough you do and any timeline you create.
UNDERTALE is a game about guilt.
You have Toriel, so guiltridden she couldn't protect her own children that she devotes herself to never letting another child leave again. And then they do!! over and over again, that guilt compounds until it's the center of her life and every choice she makes!!
And obviously Asgore, so guiltridden that he couldn't protect his own children from humans that he spends the rest of his days trying to get out and get revenge on them--as if that will stop the voices in his head saying, if you had been out there with them you could have stopped it, you could have stopped those humans from killing your children, and maybe he could have!! Or maybe not!! He'll never know and it eats him from the inside out!
Alphys, oh my sweet summer child this fandom does not deserve you!! Alphys, so guiltridden from her own perceived failures as a scientist that she began to try anything, anything to make the King happy, and it seemed to be working at first, and then it was so everlastingly worse, how can you cause something worse than death?? without even trying??
And it shows up in little ways, silly ways, too! Ways you wouldn't even think about as guilt! Undyne! She feels guilty that she won't let Papyrus join the Royal Guard so she gives him cooking lessons instead! Papyrus feels guilty that he's not in love with you after one date so he'll "keep being your cool friend and act like this never happened!"
SANS MY BOI don't even get me started. His guilt isn't as physically obvious but he made a promise to toriel, he promised her he would keep the human safe, and in timelines where you save everyone he follows you pretty much all throughout the Underground (even if he doesn't do anything to help smh) because he'd feel guilty not doing it, and in timelines where you kill everyone he feels guilty for not stopping you, AND in those SAME timelines he feels guilty for stopping you because it means he's breaking his promise to Toriel to keep you safe I!!! This boy can fit so much cosmic guilt in him!!!!
Asriel! FLOWEY!! Do you ever wonder if he feels guilty about being the one to wake up again? The one to survive, when Chara had to die twice?? He sits at their grave and he will do anything, anything to drown out those thoughts so he befriends and kills and torments and it's all the same and it's all useless!!
And their guilt compounds each others'! Toriel makes Sans make that promise because of her own guilt, which increases his! Asgore's guilt is what pushes Alphys so far past the limits of ethical science, because he increases hers!
And all of this, all of this, ALL OF THIS pales in comparison to you!!!
You!! The player! You return to the Underground after maybe accidentally killing Toriel or a few others because you didn't know, you never wanted to hurt them!! You listen to Flowey and you come back and you save them all!
You! The player!!! You cry at the ending and you'd feel guilty, so guilty about letting them all go, wouldn't you? So you ignore Flowey's pleas to let it alone, and you come back again, you say hello to your dear friends but this time it isn't the same, this time you kill them all because you want to see everything this game has to offer, might as well get your money's worth, the fights are cool, right?? And then you get hit with the most unsatisfying atomic bomb of an ending and the only thing left is your own reflection staring back at you from the black screen of your computer as the horror dawns, what have you done???
YOU!!! The player! You go back again even though there is no Flowey left to tell you to, and you save them all again because I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, nobody deserves what I did to all of you, and it's all good, nobody remembers, and then you get to the end. The game knows what you did!!! It never forgot, and it'll make certain you never forget either!! Guilt!! Guilt, guilt!!! It's baked into the code of this game!!
Anyways tl;dr, maybe it actually did make sense to give this game to the pope
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miratastic · 23 hours
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Feyd spanking-
yes. oh my god yes. went a little bit overboard with this one, hope u enjoy !
feyd has rules. rules that he expects you to follow. he needs you to listen, to be obedient and good. he likes it when you’re soft, and floaty and treat him like he’s the only thing you need (which let’s be honest, he is). he likes having control over you. likes to tell you what you can wear, who you can talk to, what you can and can’t do around geidi prime. if you obey him, he treats you. spoils you with gifts exported from other planets, takes you to his favourite childhood hideouts, lets you cum as many times as you want. if you’re really good he uses his mouth on you and makes you cum so hard you black out.
feyd doesn’t give second chances. the second you start acting up, say your outfit is more low cut than usual, or you’re being bratty and saying no to him, he will waste no time. discipline is very important to feyd. he would drag you by the wrist, ignoring your shocked outburst at his sudden aggression, to his private chambers. you think you’re so smart by telling him that he’s overreacting, and that you’re not doing anything wrong. feyd would snarl in response, veins in his forehead ticking. he would be fuming, you’d be able to hear his teeth gritting together as he throws you over his lap. this entire time he hasn’t said an entire word and you’re starting to get worried. you realise that maybe trying to rile him up was a bad idea. “feyd,” you’d say uncertainly, wriggling in his strong hold. “let me go.”
the sharp sound of fabric tearing is his response. he’s ripped a gaping hole in your clothes, giving him full access to your ass and upper thighs.
“here i thought you were good. here i thought i had taught you manners.” his voice is gravelly, fury barely contained as he strokes your skin.
“feyd-feyd m’sorry okay? i won’t do it again, i promise!” he’d reduced you down to a whimpering, pathetic, mess and he hadn’t even started yet. “please let me go.”
feyd laughs at you. it’s menacing and scary and you tremble where you lay. “it’s too late for you. if you were my pretty pet we wouldn’t be here right now. if you were the good pet i know, you’d be cumming on my cock tonight. but you aren’t good are you? no, good pets fucking listen to their owners. you deserve this.”
the first spank against your ass hurts. he wasn’t starting off soft or giving you a chance to get used to it. feyd puts all his power into it, years of warrior training being obvious with how the pain radiates through you. you cry out, tears immediately running down your face. “f-feyd!”
“count.”
you whimper out a quiet ‘one,’ and he hums, “maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
he spanks you again, this time it hits the thin skin just under your left cheek, and you jerk up his lap from the impact. feyd doesn’t offer comfort through his punishment; doesn’t soothe the reddened skin with his large hands. he doesn’t even wait long enough for you to catch up before he’s doing it again.
feyd makes you count all of them. he keeps going until he’s satisfied he’s erased the badness from you. if you lose count or take to long to answer, he starts again from the top. he keeps going until you’re just a sniffling, drooly wreck with a bruised and battered ass.
when he’s done he would pick you up and seat you over his hardened cock, not caring if it hurts you. your head would find itself burrowing into his chest, wet faced and snotty nosed. “m’sorry, m’really really sorry. m’gonna be good for you, m’gonna be a good pet for you, won’t make you mad ‘nymore. won’t be a brat, i’ll listen and be good.”
feyd’s palm would come up and rub your head, and you’d start crying again from how good it felt to finally have comforting touch from him. he’d bring his other arm across your waist, hugging you tight into him, continuing to stroke your hair.
“c’mere sweet thing. you took your punishment well, pretty. did good for me didn’t you? yes, that’s right, did so good for me baby. you’ve learnt your lesson haven’t you? perfect pet, i’ll take care of you now.”
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stariikis · 1 day
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operation : be your boyfriend | yang jungwon
synopsis ; thousands of ways to say, 'i love you,' and jungwon can't even carry out one special procedure without messing up. that is, until your birthday rolls around and you're greeted by the kitten you've always dreamed of owning, at your doorstep...
pairing ; clumsy!jungwon x fem!reader | genre ; fluff, crushing, confessions | wc ; 2721 | warnings n notes ; you're not oblivious, you're just a little bit of a mastermind sociopath! appearances of sunoo riki heeseung and eunchae in this fic!
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baby... i'm just tryna play it cool... but i just can't hide that... i want you ઇઉ
OPERATION 1 : SECRET ADMIRER
“Clearly, he’s not listening to us.” 
“Yang Jungwon…” 
“Yang Jungwon!” 
Jolting back to the present, Jungwon coughs awkwardly and jerks his gaze away from the girl across the room. He didn’t realise he was staring at the mere back of her head the whole time… how embarrassing for him. Shifting his gaze back to his groupmates, staring at him with a bemused expression, he clears his throat. 
“I’m on task,” he tries to say, but it comes out as a pathetic croak from the roof of his mouth. He has to clear his throat again. 
“What a liar,” Riki scoffs, following Jungwon’s prior gaze all the way to the front of the classroom. Doubled over with laughter by the board, yn seems to have an aura of gold surrounding her figure. In between rays of sunlight and flecks of fairydust, the way she smiles lights up the whole room like she’s in a fantasy book. 
Barely trying to conceal it, Sunoo stares towards her direction. Ironically, the words that leave his mouth as he does so are, “can you at least try to hide it? You’re too obvious.”
“I can’t believe she can’t tell yet,” Heeseung mutters. 
For some reason, the whole table goes quiet. In the middle of the silence, Jungwon can only hear the clacking heels of their Maths teacher walking around and the soft rustle of papers, amiable chatter as groups begin to complete their assigned project. But a single voice stands out in the crowd. 
Never mind. Jungwon only hears her now. 
Isn’t it ridiculous? How he believed that his initial crush on her would be short-lived, nothing more than an impulsive attraction that would fade once he got to know her. When she walked up to him, however, saying nothing but a simple ‘thank you for sending me notes for yesterday’s class!’, he felt like his heart would race out of his chest. Unfortunately for him, she was too charismatic. 
With a perfect all-kill streak of grades, she’s never gotten a grade below 90. Not a point out of place. It’s the kind of person Jungwon aspires to be, a much better version of himself. Yes, he gets straight As every term and yes he’s been the class president for three years on end, but it’s nothing compared to her level. 
For the past two years, ever since she joined the class with an air exuding and radiating sheer confidence, Jungwon has been trying hard to beat her. Once would be enough for him. He’s been trying so hard to defeat her, however, that he’s forgotten to try to tame his feelings for her too. 
About a week after he met her, the butterflies churning deep inside his stomach were already too much for him. In her locker, silver letters Jungwon begged Sunoo to help him calligraph donned the bottom of an indirect, vague love letter. From your secret admirer. He doesn’t even remember now what he wrote inside, but he does recall many descriptions of her pretty smile and easygoing personality. 
It was only a day later he found out that he had accidentally dropped it in the locker next to hers. Lee Heeseung from the class beside them walked past, a basketball under one arm and the other hand holding the letter and reading it aloud to Riki, walking briskly beside him. In an instant, Riki looked straight at Jungwon across the hallway and facepalmed. 
OPERATION 1 : SECRET ADMIRER : FAILED
wait a minute, what is this? my heart is going lub-dub, just keeps pounding
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even from afar, oh, my, gosh! ; pulling me close, you're, my, crush, like a superpower
OPERATION 2 : INDIRECT CONFESSIONS
Daydreams. Flitting endlessly through your mind, like a paradox. It’s impossible to zone out during Biology. How dull you find the zoomed in aspects of all the systems in your body. Sure, you want to pursue something medical-related, but this class just isn’t it. 
“Jungwon’s staring at you again,” whispers your seatmate, Eunchae. She uses her pen to gesture behind you. Two seats diagonal to you both, Jungwon notices your glances his way and pretends to look elsewhere. He’s resting on the palm of his hand, the paper he took out to take notes on completely blank. 
“I can’t believe he’s the class president again,” you mutter with a tinge of bitterness. 
Eunchae sighs. She’s clearly heard enough of your one-sided disliking towards the student leader, and it shows in the way she decides to disregard you. “You don’t have to hate him. He obviously doesn’t reciprocate the hard feelings.” 
Of course he doesn’t. 
You try to hide a triumphant smile. Of course Jungwon doesn’t harbor any hatred towards you. Rather, it’s quite evident in the way he always asks you to be the first player in his team during PE, asks you if you want to group up with him, makes excuses to brush past you in the hallway – he’s always wanted something more than friendship. 
The one time you did agree to do a Korean Language project with him, however, when he came over to record the podcast you had written, all that got done was a bunch of giggles into the portable microphone. Jungwon, admitably, had a good sense of humor. And it, unfortunately, matched well with yours. 
You’re making this more solemn than it needs to be, you think to yourself, biting back a small smile to yourself. Shouldn’t it be a good thing that you’ve got Jungwon wrapped around your finger? 
Spinning your pen smartly, you sit up. Right. You’ve gotten out of many late homework submissions and responsibilities because Jungwon would literally cover for you with visible hearts in his eyes when he talks about you. You know you should feel guilty for exploiting him, but it’s just what a friend does, isn’t it? 
Friend. Another memory fades in. 
“Yahh, you’re so down bad you can’t even let her do her own work,” Sunoo mutters to Jungwon, quietly rearranging the papers. He thinks you’re out of earshot, but you can hear their conversation clearly from your desk. 
Jungwon shrugs his shoulders in the corner of your eye, and you swear he glances over at you for a second. “She’s my friend. Are you trying to say you never copy my homework?” 
Sunoo tsks loudly. “It’s different. She doesn’t need the help! You’ve seen her grades.” 
They divert into a small argument about whose grades are better, but you’re not really listening anymore. Your heart is starting to race uncontrollably, and you look desperately down at your chest. You’re trembling from the fact that Jungwon called you his friend? How pathetic. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as if juicing your brains of unwanted thoughts. 
But you can’t help but let out a short curse when your heart doesn’t slow down, your cheeks don’t cool off. Only Jungwon wants this. Not you too… 
And so when Eunchae finally gets bored of Bio once again, she leans in and pokes you. “Anyway, you know Jungwon has the fattest crush on you.” 
“Oh really?” you murmur, averting your eyes back to the liver diagram in front of you. Where you’re supposed to label, ‘oxygen-rich-blood’, you’ve scribbled ‘only jungwon’ in illegible handwriting. You pretend to act surprised, hiding the words with the palm of your hand. “He didn’t ask you to say that? Did he? As a prank?” 
Eunchae rolls her eyes. “It’s not a prank.” 
“So he asked you to say it.” 
“...” 
“I see.” You reach into your pencil case and pull out an eraser to wipe away the traces of your daydreams. It’s a good thing you do, because Eunchae suddenly looks over and teases you for falling asleep in lesson when you’re usually such a good student. If only she knew about the homework incidences. If only she knew about the thoughts that run through your head. 
What he’s trying to do is kind of… cute.
OPERATION 2 : INDIRECT CONFESSIONS : FAILED
my heart feels like a giant magnet, everything about you sticks to my heart, boy
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we're magnetized, i admit it. this time, i want!
OPERATION 3 : LET'S GET IT!
She’s got to be joking, right? There’s no way… 
“Yeah, idiot, you’re invited to my birthday party. You got a problem with that?” (Name) scoffs at Jungwon, retracting the simplistic black and white invitation card in her hand. “Maybe you don’t deserve this?” 
“No!” He says a little too fast, reaching out to snatch it from her playfully. 
He reads it with a poorly hidden smile. Is he even trying at this point? He’s been on the verge of a proper confession for a while now. Why would he want to hide the fact that he really really really wants her to be his? 
“15 May?” He sighs, feigning disappointment. “Too bad, I can’t make it.” 
Wait for it…
“Really? That’s too bad,” she replies monotonously, walking away without a care. Not the reaction Jungwon was expecting. He releases a breath of air, only now realising that he’s been holding his breath. How boring of her. 
“I was lying!” He calls, smoothing out his school uniform and running down the hallway after her. “I’m definitely coming!” 
She clearly starts to laugh as she runs away from him, yelling, “come or not, it doesn’t matter to me!” 
Jungwon doesn’t give up. With a hand running through his hair, he chases her down the halls. He would chase after her for eternity if he had to. Eventually, he catches up to her with a tap on the shoulder. WIth a mock-annoyed look, she slows down, shoving his shoulder.
“What’s your problem?” She huffs, “Can’t I get a break around here?” 
Jungwon smiles. With just the right amount of delusion, maybe he can convince himself that whatever she’s spouting is just a white lie. Untruths to cover up the truth. She wants him back, he swears!
“You’ll never get a break,” he mumbles, suddenly going shy as he leans in closer. Just like I practiced with Riki. Just like I practiced…
“Annoyi–”
“From running through my mind all day.” 
When Jungwon finally dares to open his eyes (yes, he was so scared he closed them), he’s shocked to see an empty spot next to him. When he looks up and down the hallway, (Name) sticks out her tongue at him, taunting him. The unbothered glimmer in her eyes reveals that she hasn’t heard a thing. 
Once again, Jungwon leaves school with a pit of mild disappointment in his stomach. Not so upset that it hurts like hell, but the wound’s deep enough to leave a scratch.
OPERATION 03 : LET'S GET IT! : FAILED
completely opposite, our type ; you're J and i'm so P
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S and N, polar opposites, but that's what pulls us in
INTERMISSION : BABY YOU'RE MY CRUSH
You hear it all.
What would Jungwon say when he finds out, that for a while now, you’ve been wrestling with your own complicated feelings, playing a game of tug of war inside your own heart? Nobody even knows you know. Nobody would even suspect you, of all people, to reciprocate Jungwon’s feelings. And, by this encounter, even Jungwon himself has no idea. 
i'll make it have a green light, girl's gotta have guts. so, let's go let's go, let's go let's go!
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don't wanna hide it, the magnet in my heart. gonna follow my feelings and get with you, boy
OPERATION 4 : CATCH SOME FELINES (FEELINGS)
What would Jungwon do for love? Just ask him this one question. He’ll probably lie and tell you he doesn’t know, and doesn’t fall for the traps set out by catching feelings, but it won’t explain why he’s outside (name)’s house on her birthday at 8 in the morning. He could very well have come at 9, an hour before the party starts, but he wants to have some time alone with her. 
To present his gift to her, snugly bundled up in his arms. And to, uh, say some other stuff. 
He looks down at the pearl-white fluffy being, purring contently in his arms. Just a while ago, he got his inspiration for a birthday gift for her. She may have casually brought it up in the midst of discussion for yet another group project, but miniscule things like that stick with Jungwon for ages. 
“I want a cat…” she whines, when their group’s gotten sidetracked from their discussion topic. (what do you think the rate of pet ownership is like in Korea?) “they’re so cute. Oh, even better, a kitten!” 
“Just get one then?” Eunchae rolls her eyes, and Riki hums in agreement. 
“I would. Even my mum wants one. But it’s so much work to adopt one.” 
So much work to adopt one? Jungwon scoffs in his mind. Now take a look at the lengths I’ve gone to for you. And I don’t even know if you like me back. Am I stupid or am I stupid? 
“Yes, Jungwon? Can I know why you’ve summoned me so early in the morning?” Suddenly, the front door opens after many persistent tries to ring the doorbell. “I know you’re excited for my birthday… but this is just weird.” 
She doesn’t notice the kitten squirming in his arms, still rubbing her eyes blearily. She looks so exhausted that Jungwon wants to apologise for awakening her and almost runs away to save himself from the awkwardness. But he stands his ground. This time, he will succeed. 
The chronicles of Yang Jungwon’s confession story. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
“Happy birthday.” He murmurs softly, daring to take a step closer and hold out his arms. At first, she squints down at the blur of fur in his hands, face smeared with confusion. It’s only when the furry ball lets out a small mew that she gasps and jerks her head back up. “I… I, uh…” 
Seeing her so amazed, with tears gathering in her eyes from the euphoria, he loses track of his words. His mind goes blank. Not knowing whether to continue calmly, or panic and die on the spot, he struggles to speak and feels his cheeks quickly growing with warmth. 
What if, just like we practiced doesn’t reassure him anymore, with the last time he used it as an affirmation turning out to be the greatest embarrassment of his life? Just like we practiced? He’s never practiced to be fluent and smooth. He’s always naturally been that way. He’s never had to fumble for the right words to say. Just like we practiced? When would he ever practice worst comes to worst with Riki? Come to think of it, he probably should have. He can’t handle standing here with such shame any longer. 
“I’m sorry for being so annoying I just really really like you and I don’t know whether you’ll like this gift or not, but I can’t go another day thinking you probably don’t like me back you can just reject me that’ll be better than misleading myself forever and ever…” 
He blurts in a small voice. 
And then, he repeats himself, louder and more confident. Like he usually is. “I like you…” 
“You must be blind, Yang Jungwon,” she says, laughing through the tears. A moment of silence passes as Jungwon tries to comprehend what he’s just heard. Blind? Why? She’s not going to say… “I like you, too?” 
It’s a question. It makes his heart race, but it doesn’t seem like enough.
“You do?” He chokes, his voice failing him. Blood rushes to his ears. “You don’t.” 
“Wait.” She clears her throat and claims, “I got nervous. I do. And it’s not the kitten, I know what you’re thinking…” 
Taking a step back, she receives the kitten into her arms and coos while Jungwon tries to process everything. “Though I’m so surprised, and so grateful. This gift is the most thoughtful thing ever. No joke.” 
She knows what I’m thinking… 
Jungwon frowns and steps even closer. He’s so close and she’s so pretty, teary eyelashes gleaming in the morning sunlight. “So you’ve known what I’ve been thinking, huh?” 
“I have.” 
The hard, challenging tone that seeps into her voice is all too familiar to Jungwon. When she leads him into her house for the second time in his life, all he’s thinking is, what a way to reminisce the moment he fell in love with her. 
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Oh, but I do!” 
A game of wits, you could call it, is what sixteen year old them are playing. Head to head in number of points, they’re competing for first place. Jungwon hides behind his whiteboard, eagerly awaiting her response. She’s never going to guess what he had in mind. She’ll never write the same exact thing, letter for letter— 
“I know what you’re thinking.” She whispers mockingly, smirking as she reveals her answer while peeking over the top of his board. The answers match up. She’s won. “I know exactly what goes on in your head.”
OPERATION 4 : CATCH SOME FELINES (FEELINGS) : SUCCESS!
no push and pull, gonna run to you ; our chemistry yeah, i'm in too deep now no push and pull, no regrets, gonna zero in on you ; never holding back straight ahead, yeah 
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this time, i want!
more of my works >
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usereddie · 4 hours
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explain couch theory for dummies please
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alright!!!
basically, couch theory started last season in 6x01. we got a snippet of the script for the buckley diaz scene at the beginning of the episode, where buck, eddie, and christopher are all having dinner together, and christopher teases buck for not having a couch.
buck is upset that bobby didn't consider him for interim captain and goes "i just wanna know what these other candidates have that apparently i don't."
christopher goes "buck, you don't even have a couch."
buck explains that the last two couches came with girlfriends (to which eddie replies "i think you mean the last two girlfriends came with couches.") because ali picked his couch when he got the loft, and they kept taylor's couch after she moved in, meaning that when she moved out, she took the couch with her.
the theory REALLY starts, though, when eddie points out that buck and taylor broke up months ago, he could've replaced the couch by now.
and buck gets a soft look in his eyes as he looks at eddie and goes "well, maybe i don't want to pick the wrong couch again."
that's kind of the root of the whole couch theory.
there's another scene in 6x01 where buck mentions not having a couch to bobby and saying he doesn't want to make a mistake again, referring to life experience.
essentially, the couch metaphor is actually something that happens in canon throughout season 6. the couch theory is the spin off of that metaphor, where it's very obvious that eddie is the damn couch.
throughout the season, there's this theme of buck searching for the right couch. it continues at the very end of the coma episode (6x11), when the buckley parents ask buck why he doesn't have a couch after they come home from the hospital.
we find out in this scene that maddie is aware of the couch metaphor because she goes "oh, that story is too long to tell while standing."
we then get a scene in the following episode (6x12) while buck's in recovery, of him trying and failing to get comfortable on his couch.
in this episode, the 118 and co are showing up to buck's apartment to keep him company, a system created by maddie to make sure buck is fine and that he's not by himself while he recovers from the lightning strike and coma.
buck doesn't want all this attention, though, and, eventually, gets fed up and goes to eddie's house.
where he immediately gets comfortable on his couch, and falls asleep before eddie even brings the beers out.
it did make the fandom lose it, thanks so much for asking.
not directly related to the couch theory, but after buck wakes up on eddie's couch, they talk about the shooting for the first time since it happened.
couch theory kind of continues throughout the season. there's a scene that's essentially a beat by beat parallel of buck falling asleep on eddie's couch with christopher falling asleep on the couch, and the buckley diaz family implications went crazy with that one.
seriously, i'm not kidding. beat by beat.
the writers, actors, producers, etc were all aware of what the fandom thought about the couch theory and how it related to buddie, also. couches were mentioned in interviews, tweets were liked, it was a whole thing.
but, i'm assuming whatever oliver says in today's (april 25th) article about the couch theory is gonna be a little more....buddie specific than anything was during s6.
anyway, after buck falling asleep on eddie's couch everyone sort of hoped for a continuation of the couch arc that involved eddie, because obviously eddie was the couch. you have buck, who didn't want to pick the wrong couch again, who couldn't even get comfortable on the couch his parents bought him, immediately fall asleep the second he sat on eddie's couch?
insanity!!!!!! it was crazy!!!!!
i don't remember if anything happened between 6x13-6x17 that was directly in canon. obviously the fandom kept going with the couch theory, speculating all the ways that the couch could mean buddie canon (there's a lot of fic from s6 that's full of couch metaphors and couch mentions)(my fics, too).
kameron gives birth to the sperm donor baby on buck's couch, also.
i forget that detail.
anyway, end of 6x18, buck and natalia are sitting on his balcony and he turns to her and asks if she wants to go buy a couch.
people died that day.
that's more or less it. i'm sure there's more that i'm missing, but essentially, the couch theory is the idea that eddie is buck's couch, the couch representing a romantic relationship.
or, not just a romantic relationship, but the right one. buck's couch is buck settling down, finding someone to spend the rest of forever with, a family, a home.
and then he got that in eddie's house, but he was too blind to see it.
alright. i think that's it! hope it made sense :)
let's pray today's interview doesn't kill us all
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thebest-medicine · 3 days
Text
Day 24: Pinned
Tickletober 2023 - My Hero Academia - Class 1A - lee!Bakugo, lee!Midoriya
[see my other tickletober 2023 fics]
[ao3 link]
A/N: first my hero academia fic??? neeed!!!! angry boy need tickled sometimes. god help whoever does it tho.
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Summary: Bakugo is all three things: loud, angry, and ticklish. One of them is less obvious than the others, and he wants to keep it that way. 
Words: 1.4k 
Loud, angry, and ticklish — these were among the many words that could describe Bakugo Katsuki. Like his quirk, he was often explosive with his voice and his temper. Ticklish, though? That was a pretty well-hidden feature, and one that not many would be willing to try with him! Not that anyone had in a long time. 
Until today. 
The sound of tittering laughter and chatter, much too loud and too cheery to be school-related, drew an already grumpy Bakugo toward the common room of the dorms. It seemed to be the place to be, he realized, when he walked in and saw most of his classmates relaxing around the couch, laughing and talking.
“What the hell are you all laughing about in here?” Bakugo barged in, asking loudly.
“Bakugo! Come on, Sero was just telling us the funniest story about—” Ochaco waved him over.
Bakugo cut her off. “Why don’t you losers stop sitting around laughing and wasting all day and get some goddamn work done! Ugh, Icy Hot and I have been working twice as hard as the rest of you because of our extra classes, and now you’re all slacking off?! It’s gonna be way too easy for me to surpass you! Where’s the challenge in that!? Now get off your asses and stop slacking!!!” 
Everyone stared back at him, their giggling long gone.
“It’s Sunday afternoon Bakugo…” Momo sighed.
“Yeah, come on, even heroes need to rest.” Tsu added.
“It’s good for you to relax a little. We’re all still training super hard!” Mina assured her classmate.
“Shut up! You’re all just a bunch of slackers and losers!” Bakugo grumbled loudly.
“Would it kill you to relax? Maybe smile a little?” Kaminari asked.
Bakugo turned to look at him, glaring with fuming rage. 
“We’re not even doing anything to bother you, Bakubro, come on!” Kaminari bargained. “If you want to keep studying then go back to your room, you don’t have to sit here watching us relax if you don’t want to join us.” 
“I WANT YOU TO TAKE YOUR STUDIES SERIOUSLY SO THAT IT MEANS SOMETHING WHEN I KICK YOUR ASS!!!” Katsuki yelled back.
“Seriously, come on…” Kirishima sighed. “You know we’ve all been working hard, we deserve some chill time!” If he squinted, it almost looked like Bakugo was steaming with anger.
In the dorms, with his guard down, focused on arguing with his friends and surrounded by his classmates, Bakugo didn’t sense the approach of his childhood friend from behind until it was too late. 
With a wide grin on his face, Midoriya had managed to creep up behind the grumpy, yapping dog that was Bakugo. He remembered something about his friend from a long time ago, and though he hadn’t tried it in many, many years, he was sure it would help here.
It was a matter of moments between when Bakugo was yelling back at Kirishima and Kaminari and when he finally felt the presence of someone approaching from behind. He ignored it for a second too long. Midoriya’s voice was friendly as it chided. “Kacchan, why are you being so mean?” And suddenly there were accompanying fingers pinching along Bakugo’s sides. 
“—GET BACK TO WO-AHHIIHHH!” His rant cut off into a very un-hero-like squeal at the unexpected tickle. Bakugo’s face, which was already red with anger, ripened further as he slowly spun his head to look behind him at Midoriya. “What. The FUCK!!!” 
“What just happened!?” Kaminari asked, smirking.
“Was that you Bakubro?” Kirishima said in disbelief.
“Deku, what did you just do?” Ochaco laughed.
“Oh my gosh! Bakugo are you ticklish?” Mina grinned, wiggling in her seat.
“That’s so cute!” Tsu agreed.
“Wait what? I missed it!” Sero turned to face him better.
Bakugo growled. “Deku…” 
Midoriya’s eyes widened as he saw Kacchan shift his weight to launch an offensive his direction. “Wait! Kacchan, I’m sorry don’t kill meEE—” He quickly sped off with a squeal out of the common room and into the hall as Bakugo bolted after him as fast as he could without shooting out explosions.
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, DEKU!”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you would react so much!” Izuku laughed as he raced ahead of his rival and old friend. 
“SHUT UP AND PREPARE TO DIE!”
The rest of the class left them to it, not wanting to incur the wrath of a furious Bakugo as Midoriya just had. They were grateful to their classmate for allowing them to continue relaxing for a few more hours without having criticisms screamed at them. Bakugo had a point, but so did they. They would have to work hard but still relax hard, play hard. 
Down the hall, Shoji picked up the sound of a scuffle before everyone heard crash and tumble followed by the familiar sound of Midoriya’s laughter… though this time it sounded much more frantic than it usually did after a good story or funny joke. 
… 
Izuku didn’t know what he had been thinking when he’d tried to tickle Kacchan for a brief second in the common room of their dorm… He had been yelling at everyone and looked so angry, Izuku just wanted to distract him for a moment and maybe get him to relax or smile a little. He remembered having tickle fights with Kacchan when they were kids. It had been a long, long time. This time, he got the jump on him, just for a moment. It was in front of their classmates, so other people now knew Kacchan was ticklish. It made sense that he was so angry, he was angry a lot. But, it had been nice to catch a hint of his smile. Even if he had embarrassed him a little. 
Now that he’d done it, though, he realized too late the wrath he had provoked. 
Izuku sped down the hall as fast as he could, trying to race back to his dorm room in time to try to lock himself inside—though… Katsuki seemed mad enough that he might just activate his quirk and blow the door down. He didn’t make it far enough to find out, though. Bakugo crashed into him, shouting obscenities as he knocked them both to the ground. 
“Wait! Kacchan don’t! Not out here!” Midoriya yelped as Bakugo landed on him. He knew he was caught.
“Stupid Deku, see how you fucking like it!!” Bakugo growled, pushing Midoriya into the floor and kneeling over his thighs. He reached down, jabbing harsh, tickling fingers ruthlessly into Izuku’s sides. They squeezed up along his ribs and down to his hips. Izuku screeched out a laugh before flailing helplessly where he was already pinned. He tried to reach back behind him to grab or block a hand. 
“KACCHAHAHAN— I’M SORRYHEHEHE!” Izuku shrieked through his laughter. “IHIHIHI- I CAHAHAN’T BREHEHEATHE!” He cried, kicking into the floor. 
“Good! Die!!!” Bakugo answered, loud and angry, as he made a grab for Izuku’s wrist and hauled it up over his head. 
“NOHOHOHO— STAHAHAHAHOP!” Izuku cackled. 
Bakugo drilled fingers into his exposed armpit, and Midoriya felt tears welling in his eyes. Bakugo was ticklish, certainly, but Midoriya was… well neither of them had ever met anyone else so sensitive. How strange a trait for one determined to be the number one hero — to crumple and fall apart in the face of some simple tickling. Though, he wouldn’t call what Bakugo was putting him through ‘simple’. 
The way Bakugo saw it, the others may have seen that he was ticklish, but if he could make enough of an example out of Midoriya, no one else would dare try it again. He hoped. 
Midoriya’s other arm flailed and tapped out helplessly on the ground as Bakugo took advantage of every ticklish spot he could remember. The tickling hand even snuck down beneath him to claw against his stomach. “PL-PLHEEHEHEHEASE KACCHAN IHIHIHIHIHI CAN’T! CAHAHAN’T TAKE IT! AHAHA-STAHAHAHAHAHA—” 
Katsuki leaned in closer, still tickling viciously. “Never. Ever. Fucking. Do that again.” He paused for a second, his hand freezing against Izuku’s sides. “Understand me?” 
Izuku breathed in a few times, panting for air and giggling each breath out. After a few seconds, he spoke up. “Y-You mean like in front of people or just in general?” 
Bakugo’s face went red as he shouted, “IDIOT!” and started tickling anew. 
“WAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO!”
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anisangeldust · 2 days
Text
Lavender Haze 𝜗𝜚⋆
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did i have every intention to post this on 4/20? yes. but did i get so faded that i’ve had severe brain fog for the last day and a half? also yes 🫶🎀
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Summary: Coriolanus sees you at a party with a particularly rough group of people and he just has to have you.
Pairing: Dealer!Coriolanus x Fem!Reader (Modern AU, Innocent!reader)
Warnings: DRUG USE AND ABUSE!, (mentions of: cocaine, weed, heroin, cigarettes, oxy/percs, and others), Mention of guns, mention of murder, mentions of ODing, mentions of rape, smut (p in v, fem!receiving oral) CNC/dub-con, impact play, masochism, minor gun kink.
A/N: dipping my toe into darker themes! happy late 4/20! (smoke responsibly)🎀🎀
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It was painfully obvious you didn’t belong here, from the cloud of smoke settled around everything in the room, to the stray bottles of little white pills the attendees were popping like candy. It was all so foreign to you.
If your friends weren’t here, you’d have gone home the second you were invited in.
Coriolanus had been watching you, he was perfectly hidden in plain sight. Your cute little pink dress was like a magnet to his icy eyes, and the way you were stepping over discarded needles was almost endearing.
The uncomfortable look on your face grew as your headache got worse, the constant hotboxing starting to run its course on your untarnished little body.
Coriolanus decided to scoop you up and keep you safe before anyone else got their grubby hands on you, after all, he was a dealer; not a monster. And to have you taken advantage of by another seemed like a horrid option, so he went with the former.
“Hey darling, you look like you don’t belong here” Coriolanus cooed, walking up to you and making sure you knew he was safe.
“I don’t, my friends dragged me here, i don’t do this kind of stuff” your voice was small and a little timid, like a stray cat at a shelter.
“I can tell princess. how about you stay with me? i’ll get some fresh air, and i’ll make sure you’re safe” he reached around to pat the handgun in his pocket.
“Oh! O-okay.” You were in no position to deny this stranger, after all, he seemed very kind, and he was very handsome, tall with buzzed blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Don’t worry hunny, you’re safe” he teased and wrapped one of his strong arms around you. “wanna go sit outside? you can even sit on my lap” he offered as his hand drew light circles on your waist.
“That sounds great, my head really hurts” you smiled back and lean into the handsome stranger.
——
‘Coriolanus, his name was Coriolanus. Coryo he said to call him.’ was the thought swirling in your head as you sat on his lap while he rested on patio furniture.
“I’m a dealer baby, I have the drugs and then I sell them to people, ‘s how I make money, it’s quite profitable too” Coriolanus explained, the lit joint between his lips and large hand cupping your ass all adding to his appeal.
Every once in a while a few people would come up to him with cash, he’d hand them a bottle of pills, or a baggy of weed, but when a guy about his age with curly chestnut colored hair walked up, he asked for cocaine.
“Alright Creed, I’ll have to measure it here though” Coriolanus murmured as he counted the cash handed to him by this mysterious stranger and then placing the bills into your hands. “hold this for me pretty girl”. His voice a million times more soft and gentle than when he was talking to the ‘Creed’ guy.
“Ever cut coke before princess? ‘Course you haven’t, you’re too much of a good girl” he chuckled against your ear. Grabbing the scale next to him, he pulled out a small baggie of white powder from his coat pocket. After measuring exactly a gram, he took a credit card and carefully pushed the powder back into the ziplock baggie.
Coriolanus took the cash from your hands and pushed it into his pocket, taking the joint from his lips, he gave you a kiss on the cheek before blowing the smoke away form your face.
“Can I try?” Your voice squeaked out, the joint didn’t seem too scary, and you wanted to at least try something while you’re sat on the lap of a dealer.
“The joint? Oh baby, are you sure?” He teased and moved your hair out of your face.
“Yes, I wanna try it, please?” Your big eyes were something he just couldn’t resist, so he took the rolled up cannabis and placed it between your plump lips.
“Breathe in like you’re sucking on a straw baby girl, that’s it..” he held your hand and the joint, looking deeply into your eyes.
The moment the smoke filled your lungs, the taste of tar and skunk filled your chest, instantly you coughed and stared to tear up. “Ew! How do you do that all the time!” You cough and lean into Coriolanus’ touch.
“Told you babygirl, it’s gross” he teases and takes a long drag before blowing the smoke into your face with a chuckle.
“Coryo!” You scrunch your face and whack his chest
“C’mon baby, how about this, I’ll blow some smoke into your mouth okay?” He murmurs and takes another drag, holding your jaw open, he blows the smoke into your open mouth, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
Your hands reach up and cup his face, leaning into the sudden display of intimacy. He brings one of his large and calloused hands up and smacks your ass playfully, eliciting a giggle from your lips.
“Promise me you’ll never get involved in the heavy shit, smoking weed is bad enough, I don’t need your pretty little self dropping acid and then dropping dead” he murmurs between kisses.
“Never.. I’ll never” you promise him, knowing that you’re too much of a pussy to do anything beyond maybe shrooms.
“Good girl, and I’ll put a bullet into anyone who tries to sell you anything, you can’t trust anyone, they’ll get you woozy then rape your cunt baby, it’s not safe to do this shit.” He warns with absolute seriousness. How ironic.
“I won’t do any drugs Coryo, you have my word” you giggle gently and scoot up on his lap
“You little tease, need me to show you who you’re fucking with right now?” He jeers and throws the joint on the floor, grinding it beneath his heal before he picks you up and carries you to his, surprisingly nice, car.
“My place isn’t too far, I’ve made enough money for tonight, right now all I need is your pussy baby” he pays your thigh and buckles you in before climbing into the drivers door and closing it, immediately speeding off.
——
Coriolanus’ apartment was actually really nice, a pretty spacious area, a nice part of town, you’re surprised he doesn’t already have a lady to call his own. Though I suppose he does now.
“Nice isn’t it? Told you it’s profitable” he murmurs and locks the front door behind you two, immediately scooping you up for the second time that night and carrying you to his bedroom.
His hands are immediately all over you, and your hands all over him. He reaches and slips off his jacket, tossing it, the gun, his cash, and any access drugs, across the room.
Coriolanus almost immediately reaches up your dress and cups your pussy in his hand “fuck me, was it me who turned you on? Maybe my gun?” He teases.
“Coryo..!” You whine and buck your hips up like a bitch.
“That’s me, don’t worry baby, I won’t be too mean” he coos and pulls off your panties, throwing them into the pile of his stuff.
“Oh fuck me princess..” he murmurs and looks over your cunt. The visual in front of him is pornographic. Your pussy was glistening wet and puffy, your swollen and pink clit poking out of your folds a bit.
“Can’t resist baby-“ he cuts himself off by diving into your cunt like it’s his death row meal, the skilled muscle that is his tongue poking and licking up your sex.
“mmm! Coryo!!” You whine and hold his head (since he has no hair to hold on to) “so good! can’t.. oh god..” you buck your hips up and he hold you in place with his strong hands.
He continues to devour you, his nose every so often bumping your clit, eventually, he brings up his hand and starts to draw lazy circles around the bundle of nerves.
“Gonna cum! Coryo..! My tummy..” you whimper and lean your head back, savoring the feeling of your new, hot, drug dealer friend eating you out like your arousal was a sacred elixir.
His name fell from your lips like a prayer as you came against his face, grinding your hips and pressing his face against you while you rode out your orgasm.
A string of spit connected his lips and your cunt, his whole face flushed and sticky with your cum.
“Taste so good sweetheart” he groans and pulls your dress over your head, immediately unclipping your bra and attacking your, now very sensitive, nipples.
“mmm… so good for me, my good girl..” he groans and pulls you into his lap as he goes into a sitting position. Moving his attention from your tits to your lips. “Gonna ruin that perfect pussy, mold you into my perfect doll, use you whenever I want” he growls and pulls his hard, fat cock out of the confines of his pants.
Laying you on your back, he uses his hands to press your knees to your chest, allowing him the most perfect view of your dripping and sensitive cunt.
“So good baby girl” he praises as he slides his fat tip across your glistening folds.
“Please.. please.. need it so bad..” you blabber out and whine.
“I know baby, I know. Let me just..” he slips the tip in and growls “fuck me doll” he hisses and uses every bit of self restraint to not jackhammer into you.
“More! Please..!” You beg, his cock sliding into your tight walls inch by inch until the tip kissed your cervix
Coriolanus gave you a second to get used to his size before he started to pound into you mercilessly, his hips snapping to meet your clit. “Can see myself in your tummy baby, so good for me, ‘m so fucking proud of you doll” he groans and increases his pace impossibly faster.
“Gonna fucking cum.. you love being my cocksleeve huh? My pretty little fleshlight.” He coos and keeps up his impossible pace until you whine and groan, cumming the second time. He pulls out and tugs his cock twice before cumming on your stomach.
“Oh fuck princess, so fucking pretty huh?” He murmurs and hold your face, kissing your swollen lips.
“So good Coryo..” your voice is weak, as is the rest of your body, but before you can get up he stops you.
“You think I’m done? Very funny princess, maybe I’ll snort a line off your perfect tits” he teasingly thinks out loud.
You were in for a very long night.
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sourlove · 12 hours
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I loved your new post about yandere mha boys with pregnant reader I was wondering if you could do one where the baby isn’t there’s and they don’t realise until it’s born ? Pleaseee
YANDERE MHA 'YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!'
ft. Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Aizawa
TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, ACCUSATIONS OF CHEATING, KIDNAPPING, METIONED MURDER, MENTIONED BABY-GO-BYE-BYE BUT LIKE SUBTLY i hope
Thanks for the ask!
READ PART 1 HERE
MIDORIYA IZUKU
Oh dear...that's certainly a problem. The birth of your first child was something he was looking forward to with a lot of hope. Hope that seeing him caring for the child would spark a love for him finally. Unfortunately, it's obvious the child wasn't his, and they didn't look like you either.
You had cheated on him. Well, not actually. In truth, by the time Izuku kidnapped you, you were already pregnant with your current partner, who Izuku got rid of, but none of you were aware of it at the time. But acknowledging that was acknowledging that Izuku's image of a perfect family had shattered and it was all his fault.
So he blames you. Throws all sorts of accusations about you cheating and sneaking out to see other men, and then dumping your bastard baby on him. He refuses to have anything to do with the child and only used them to keep you in line, threatening to get rid of them if you misbehaved. Izuku felt broken. He felt as if everything had taken a sudden wrong turn in his life. He felt like he just lost control of the life he had planned. Everything was going to be perfect, your lives were going to be perfect. Then you had to go and spoil it all.
The only thing you can do at this point is try to make him happy. Maybe if you have a couple of kids that are actually his, he will be willing to forgive you and accept that child as a member of his family.
BAKUGO KATSUKI
Katsuki is angry. But not at you, he's just pissed that he didn't see something like this coming. When that filthy bastard that used to call himself your boyfriend put his hands all over you, how could Katsuki forget? If he had known sooner, he could have done something to stop it before it got too far.
But he's too late now. Worst part is, he has to watch you pay more attention to a brat that isn't even his. Katsuki grudgingly helps with the baby, still a bit resentful that he wasn't the one to knock you up first. The kid starts to grow on him soon. The little brat sort of reminds him of you and he can even pretend it's his for a moment.
It's not too bad, Katsuki decided one night as the baby lay fast asleep on his chest and you curled up next to him on the couch, dozing off as well. Maybe he was cut out for this family shit after all.
TODOROKI SHOTO
Oh boy...
He's relieved that he technically had no part to play in it but he's also very pissed. Who would dare to touch his darling? He hates the thought of anyone being able to impregnate you other than him.
Shoto is literally acting hot and cold, sometimes being helpful and supportive, other times dismissive and harsh. He's not quite sure what to do with another man's baby. All his fears about bringing in a child that has his family traits have disappeared but there's still an actual, living baby to consider.
He tries to get out of his head a bit when he sees you are actually struggling to take care of the baby and of yourself too. All things considered, he still loves you. For now, Shoto will just concentrate on keeping the baby alive and keeping you happy.
AIZAWA SHOTA
He's surprisingly chill about the whole affair. As an underground hero, Shota's seen a lot of people in a lot of different situations. Things like this just happen. While he's definitely surprised, he adapts pretty quickly. He's a pretty good dad, very reliable when you're not feeling a 100%. It really improves your opinion of him and makes you more comfortable around him.
Don't let your guard down though. Shota isn't going to settle for just one kid. Once you're healed, get ready to get pregnant again :)
I HAVE A MASTERPOST WITH LINKS TO MY YANDERE MHA HEADCANONS AND FANFICS HERE
A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! Also tagging people can be a bit confusing because I always forget who wants to be tagged so if you do want to be tagged, please specify whether you want to be tagged for a particular series or for all my work.
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rocksibblingsau · 2 days
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Now you got me wondering, How would Funk Branch interact with the royal family, r&b, and lownote jones?
With Quincy and Essence there are some things that are spoilers for Rock Sibblings, but just know things are rocky at first! For outside reasons as well as the fact that Branch simply never really had parents for very long, let alone TWO parents (excluding temporary fosters). He was raised by his grandma. The two are just as patient as Thrash is, so they do eventually make progress with him and by the time of adulthood they're a close knit family.
Quincy and Essence encourage him to explore various interests and they are always great listeners. They love Branch a lot, but Branch doesn't replace what they lost.
As a kid, Darnell didn't initially get along well with Branch. Neither wanted the other as a brother. Branch for obvious reasons and Darnell because he wanted his brother, not a replacement. Over time they warm up to each other under the agreement they're just friends, but that eventually falls away and they're brothers. It's a learning curve for Branch to be a big brother, and he comes to find that he could never imagine leaving D the way his brothers left him. Even the thought of moving out of their parents house to next door feels like abandoning D. He also carries some guilt over the fact that this should be Cooper, but D is always quick to reassure him that he'd never trade Branch for Cooper. He'd love to have both his brothers, but if he can't then... well, he's happy with how things turned out.
Branch is the first one that D tells about his idea for Hip Hop. If anyone would be open to a subgenre, it's his adopted Pop-turned-Funk brother. Branch of course supports him, and even dabbles in Hip Hop himself, maybe even being Hip Hop as well.
When Cooper does reunite with D, that fear of abandonment is there again. The fear that Branch was just a replacement that D doesn't need anymore. D however grabs Branch's hand and pulls him over to Cooper and introduces them. Cooper's surprised on all fronts, but especially that Grey Branch was a good older brother to his twin. Hearing about how good of brother Branch was to D makes Cooper feel bad for how Branch was treated by Pop Village. Cooper was an odd one out, and if he had only tried, the two could have been friends. It's clear that Branch wasn't AGAINST caring about people like he'd thought.
The three become a little trio, with Cooper happy to go from 0 brothers to 2 in the span of a day.
Lownote Jones is used to everyone adoring him, normally just from his voice alone or his charms. While Branch can certainly notice both of those, he doesn't act like other people around Lownote, which he really likes. Branch actually becomes interested in Lownote due to Lownote's reputation as a scientist and pilot. Lownote isn't aware of this at first, and is kind of disappointed by the change, but in a 'oh well, it was nice while it lasted' kind of way before he realizes Branch is actually just more interested in the things he says rather than the "smooth cadence of his voice". The two are VERY good friends and Branch is introduced to Funk science by Lownote. Branch gives a very interesting outside perspective...
Which ties into how he interacts with R and B! He reins them in when they get too ahead of themselves and reminds them of the basics. He doesn't always get along with them, often finding some of their stuff too over the top. ("Why does the machine that opens a bottle have to be this big? Can't it be bottle opener sizes?" "How else will it fit the boombox?" "Why does a bottle opener need a BOOMBOX?" "Why not?") Though he can get wrapped up in it as well (See Holiday in Harmony and his gift to Poppy) sometimes.
Lownote shakes his head in disappoint at BroZone, meanwhile R and B contemplate the ethics of a machine that either 'removes jerkness' or 'squashes washed-up boy band members into ball shape and knocks them into space with a mallet'.
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bumblekastclips · 2 days
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KYLE CROUSE: ‘Bring back the Freedom fighters’ asks, “Okay, Ian. Sonic/Aliens crossover. What happens, who gets face-hugged, chest-busted, and whose powers do the Xenomorphs get from host? And who goes Super to save the day?”
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IAN FLYNN: This is hard, ‘cause I don’t really want to wish the xenomorph upon anybody. That’s a bad way to go…  KYLE: [chuckles] Uh-huh. IAN: Which stage of the xenomorph? All of them! KYLE: Any and all, yeah. IAN: Although… I now have this mental image of Amy scooping up Cream into her arms, wielding the hammer, and staring down the Queen, saying, “Get away from her, you bitch!”  KYLE: I was thinking the exact same thing! [laughs] Oh man! IAN: No! I hate to rob the moment from Amy, but it should go to Blaze, ‘cause she is the flamethrower!  KYLE: Oh! Oh, oh, oh, okay, yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah! Oh… I do— Yeah, I agree with you there. Okay. IAN: Eh, it’s the— it’s both of them. They’re both rescuing— they’re both rescuing her. KYLE: It could be— it could be either way. It can go either way, but oh, man, that’s such a good one. IAN: Yo, maybe that’s it! We get away from folks being face-hugged, ‘cause the little crawlers get into, like, a Chao garden and they infect the eggs themselves. So you have, like, Perfect Chaos-esque xenomorphs. KYLE: [excited laughter] Ohhh, no! Oh! [inhales] Eggman— Eggmanland-Utani. No! IAN: [cackling laughter]  KYLE: No! How could you do that? [laughing] Oh, man! [reading chat] Face-huggers to face-hug Starline? Augh! [laughs]  IAN: Eh… [unintelligible]   KYLE: It’s a little obvious, but… IAN: You- you worry for Big for a half-second ‘cause it does get up there and latch onto his face, but then he just kinda slurps it down and crunches it like crab. KYLE: [horrified laughter]  IAN: [as Big] “That’s a little spicy…” [as other character] “It’s full of acid, Big!” [as Big] “Yeah, my tummy feels rumbly…” KYLE: [laughing, reading chat] “Alien VS Predator & Knuckles.” IAN: [cackles, then as other character] “What do you think, Knuckles?” [as Knuckles] “If it bleeds… we can kill it.” KYLE: Yeah! [laughing]  IAN: Ugh, this would totally be stealing a scene from Superman VS Aliens, but Shadow gets face-hugged, and he just spits the xenomorph out. KYLE: I don’t know if I realized that was a thing. [chuckling]  IAN: It’s actually— it’s been a long time. KYLE: Superman VS Aliens, wow. IAN: It’s been a long time since I read it, but it’s a really solid read from what I remember, and yeah, Supes gets face-hugged at one point, and the xenomorph starts to form in him, and he manages to just spit it out in the void of space. KYLE: Yeah. IAN: Like, dude, that is hardcore! KYLE: Wow. Wow. Shadow’s just taken to shooting ‘em, obviously. Just constantly. That’s kind of— IAN: Well, that too, yeah, sure. KYLE: Shadow’s kind of— kind of used to shooting aliens. IAN: [as Shadow] “Come on, Omega, we’re going on a bug hunt.” KYLE: [laughs] IAN: [as Omega, robotically] “Game over, man! Game over!” KYLE: [laughing] It’s just Shadow the Hedgehog 2, it’s true! IAN: There you go! KYLE:[sighs] Oh, man… oh man!
--- TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It's just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don't like an answer, you don't have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It's all just for fun!
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the-little-moment · 3 days
Text
Angstpril Day 22: Little One
Prompt: Drained
Words: 745
Summary: When everything becomes too much, Cadet Hunter, his brothers, and their favorite doctor help Tech through a meltdown.
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Senna straightened from her computer in shock when the small clone burst into her office, dark curls escaping from his bandana. 
“It’s Tech,” Hunter panted, looking like he’d run all the way. “There’s something wrong with him. Can you come?”
The doctor rose immediately to join him by the door, her unfinished forms forgotten. “Where is he?” She bent to meet the boy’s wild eyes. “Is he conscious, breathing?”
“Our barracks. Yes, it’s—it’s not like that.” The cadet’s face twisted in dismay, fingers tense and fidgeting at the hem of his tunic. “He—I couldn’t get him to come with me. Crosshair and Wrecker are watching him.”
“Come on then.”
Senna snatched her travel kit from the couch as Hunter practically fled her office, leading her out of the medbay and down the hall towards the cadet barracks, dodging past older clones who parted, wide-eyed for the doctor in his wake.  
Inside the boys’ room, she paused while her eyes adjusted to the dimness. “Over here!” Hunter beckoned from the edge of a bunk across the room where the object of his panic sat, knees to forehead, skinny arms wrapped tight around his legs. Wrecker and Crosshair were looking up at her with frightened eyes. They made room for the doctor on the bed beside their brother.
Senna lowered herself onto the bunk next to the young clone, setting her kit on the floor. “Tech, sweetheart, can you tell me what’s wrong?” He hadn’t moved as she’d sat down, not reacting at all to the sound of her voice. She looked him over for any obvious injuries.
“What happened?” She turned to the others.
Hunter bit his lip. “He just shut down like that. He was angry that he couldn’t get his pad to work and then he went all quiet. We didn’t…do so great in training today.” The last part was almost a whisper. 
“But he didn’t get hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” Senna could see frustrated tears building in the boy’s eyes as he tried to answer her questions. Behind him, Wrecker shook his head in fervent confirmation. Crosshair was quiet, eyes fixed on Tech.
She laid a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“Tech?” Turning back to her patient, Senna lightly touched his arm, pulling away when he made a low moan. He suddenly began to rock back and forth on the bunk, pulling in an occasional gasping breath. As she watched, his grip on his sleeves grew alarmingly tight. 
Oh.
“Boys,” the doctor lowered her voice as she faced the others, “you’ve done a great job, but if you could go sit at the table, I think your brother could use some space.”
They obeyed, and Senna shifted to the other end of the mattress. “Sweetheart,” she murmured to the small cadet, “I’m right here. Everything is fine. You’re safe.” The lights are down, it’s quiet, just give him some time.
She leaned back against the wall, smiling calmly at the three brothers on the bench and continuing in the same soft voice, “We’re just gonna be quiet a little while for Tech, okay?”
Their heads bobbed earnestly.
Ten minutes passed while Senna willed herself to exude serenity. When a shaky sigh was heard, she turned back to Tech. He’d stopped his anxious movements, but his head was still buried in his arms. “Tech?”
“I’m sorry, Senna.” His thin voice was worn with exhaustion.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, little one. I understand.” She raised her hand, then paused, “Do you mind if I touch you?”
The boy unfolded, revealing a tear-stained face beneath his large goggles. Tech wiped his nose on his sleeve and shook his head, still not meeting her eyes. Senna touched his shoulder gently, pleased when he didn’t flinch. “It’s alright, dear.” She was surprised when he turned and pressed himself into her side, his forehead against her collarbone. His delicate hands were tucked between them and she sighed in relief as her arms came up to hold him. 
Senna stroked Tech’s soft, brown hair as his brothers made an apprehensive approach. Bolstered by the doctor’s smile and lifted arm, Wrecker immediately snuggled into her other side. Hunter took his place next to Tech, one small hand on his brother’s back, and Crosshair climbed onto the far end of the bed, not touching anyone, but still wanting to be close. 
“You boys did such a good job.” Senna sighed again as she let her eyes close, just for a bit, she told herself. Then she’d go back to those karking forms. “Thank you for helping me.”
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This one was more whump or hurt/comfort than angst, but that's okay 😅. I love the little Batch so much, especially little Tech.
8 more days of Angstpril! 😳 As always, the rest of the fics from this collab can be found by following our hashtag, #littlekyberthoughts, and by visiting @kybercrystals94, @just-here-with-my-thoughts, and my blogs.
Happy reading. 😬
Taglist: @clonethirstingisreal @lightwise @freesia-writes
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tuesday again 4/23/22
three months unemployed YAY. also wherein i get SUPER pressed about star wars lore
listening
funeral by tele novella. popped open tiktok to see something my best friend sent me and this was there, the first thing on the for you page. let's yoink a description of their previous album from an interview i'm going to quote at length in a bit: "The result was “exactly what we wanted it to be,” a perfumed mist of jingling, jangling, lilting, off-center pop—a strange little snowglobe gathering dust at the back of the shelf."
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the lyrics did hit me like a train bc i often find myself mourning places and situations that were not necessarily good for me but were familiar.
Oh, you're not tied up Here comes the train The tracks feel safe because you know 'em
if you had told me this was made in about 2007-2009ish i would have believed you. very spare production in the way folksier songs of the time were spare. a bit raspy and direct in her delivery. there's a bandcamp interview wherein i found out this is the side project of a vintage/antiques dealer and she has a fascinating perspective on her own music:
Her passion for the craft is evident—in our conversation as much as in listening to the band—but music, for her, is a means to an end, a way to transmit stories. “As a musician, I’m mediocre at best,” Ribbons says matter-of-factly. “I think that my talent lies in my storytelling ability. I think that I’m a good storyteller.” It’s something instilled in her by her grandparents, “voracious readers” who were always buying her books and secretly wanted Ribbons to be a writer, she suspects.
i really adored this whole album as a cohesive work. "vampire cowgirl" is another standout for obvious reasons.
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You came barrelin' down Rabid with some talk Of a gal who rides at night Picking off the stock
remarkably good at reproducing the general vibe of the midcentury cowboy western album, when tv cowboys were sweeping the nation
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reading
T. Kingfisher's Nettle & Bone. enjoyed it, but not quite as much as her other stuff. whereas her other series are almost always comical and often stray into farce, this one was a bit grim. even with the addition of a demonic chicken. had to stop and really think about if my own experience with funerals and funerary rites (too many, too often) was coloring this for me but i think it is simply not as funny or interested in being funny as her other works. not a ding against it, but not what i was really expecting or in the mood for. image from tor, let's yoink the description from macmillan
This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince. It's the one where she kills him. Marra — a shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter — is relieved not to be married off for the sake of her parents’ throne. Her older sister wasn’t so fortunate though, and her royal husband is as abusive as he is powerful. From the safety of the convent, Marra wonders who will come to her sister’s rescue and put a stop to this. But after years of watching their families and kingdoms pretend all is well, Marra realizes if any hero is coming, it will have to be Marra herself. If Marra can complete three impossible tasks, a witch will grant her the tools she needs. But, as is the way in stories of princes and the impossible, these tasks are only the beginning of Marra’s strange and enchanting journey to save her sister and topple a throne.
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paywalled article, sorry, but i personally have a bone to pick with fanduel due to [REDACTED INCIDENTS] from [PREVIOUS JOB] so it does not surprise me in the slightest that they don't really seem to be doing a single fucking thing about money-laundering. allegedly.
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watching
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the bad batch, or the 13/16 episodes of the third and final season that are out. all these images are from comicbookreview bc i watched this on my actual television
one of the plots i hate most is the trying to get someone back plot. for example, i think finding nemo does this really well bc it's also a coming of age/parenting movie. i do not think the second finding nemo movie does this well bc as soon as one person is reunited with the group, through a wacky series of coincidences they lose another member. plus that movie is part of the downturn of modern pixar where they forgot how to tell interesting stories but that's neither here nor there. the bad batch falls into the finding nemo 2 category. it's simply frustrating to watch. it turns into a desperate floundering after whoever happens to be missing instead of using a The Searchers style plot to say something about the act of the search itself. i realize i am once again saying "what if star wars was good" but like. come on.
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the bad batch s3 is surprisingly focused on retroactively filling in the backstory of how and why palpatine got cloned with his force powers intact, which is apparently a difficult technical problem. i would have cared about this if this show came out before the last movie and we had a cool breadcrumb style approach leading up to the movie. unfortunately that movie (and the sequel trilogy more broadly) killed a lot of my interest in modern star wars. anyway, this cloning problem leads to a lot of very technical conversations in a children's' show that are interesting to me, a grownup, bc no star wars media has ever successfully explained 1) what midichlorians actually are and 2) the biological processes by which they operate but refuse to be cloned? which is extremely funny to me bc midicholrians aren't supposed to be real. qui-gon has that whole little speech and blood test in the phantom menace but the series had So scrupulously stayed away from explaining how the force works before that. they still fail to explain it but they at least attempt to break two inches of new ground. side note this show gives us TWO canon trans girl clones and i really wish they were in a better show.
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it's annoying that i'm annoyed about a children's show meant to sell toys. some fun things: the pyke syndicate shows up, a slew of my favorite bounty hunters show up, this show is much better at painterly backgrounds and has an overall more concept-art feel than the clone wars proper or rebels. i think it would be cool if they stopped whitewashing the clones. i'm going to finish out the season but i don't exactly have a lot going on in my life right now. i am not terribly sad that this is the final season but BOY do they have a lot of loose ends to wrap up in three episodes.
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playing
new genshin update on uhhh thursday and it's kind of exciting bc i THINK it will finally fill in this hole on the map and the associated shorelines of three different countries!
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i thought i had long since found all the chests in liyue (the second area released) but in the process of doing a recently released character quest set in liyue i found another chest. this game is very good at hidden objectives and little secrets but i wish it was better at letting you know when you have Actually cleared an area completely of all the little hidden stuff. anyway i have been holding back the last character hangout (ningguang, my best beloved ruthless girlboss business high femme) for a terrible day and that day came! unfortunately hanging out with the fake pretend video game lesbian did make me feel better!
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also unfortunately i fucked up and cannot count so the gacha pity system (every 90 pulls you're guaranteed a 5-star character) gave me Neuvillette. who i don't hate but i wasn't really planning on pulling for. i do like his questline and his voice actor, he simply doesn't fit in super well with a mono-electro team bc i play this game like an insane woman.
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the real bitch of the thing keeping me from upgrading him is going out in the overworld and collecting enough sea stars. why can't he need flowers or little gears or anything else i have a thousand of.
anyway this gal will be dropping sometime in the next six weeks and i AM extremely excited to pull for her. she has some cool abilities (GUN) and is part of a popular pair with the steampunk lolita character i love and leads my other main team. i hope their abilities play well off each other but she has such a cool storyline and design i don't super care if she fits in with my playstyle. i will adapt for her in a way i am not willing to do with neuvilette
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making
i am once again obsessed with gallery walls, bc a friend has asked me to find the correct gigantic size frames to put some comics on his wall, and that has given me an excuse to go to thrift stores again.
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unfortunately i have mostly found frames for me, and the projects i have been working on have kind of a long tail of when they will actually be on my walls. i picked up four 16x20 frames for $2.50 each (solid wood! remarkably detailed!) bc i eventually want to put up these fallout maps in the style of national parks maps up on the map wall in my office. i suppose this means i should join @ruffledringdove and actually play '76, bc that's the one modern game i haven't played. these are getting scuff sanded with 120 and painted with a eggshell paint sample in a bright white u all know the drill at this point. ive painted a lot of frames in the past few weeks.
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left is one of the painted 16x20 map frames, right i have also finally sanded and painted both 12x16 deckle-edged wood frames i picked up off the side of the road in MA. and found glass + backs for them! eventually i will procure fancy mats and print + frame my grandmothers' portraits. they will eventually go on the living room wall, which is a neutrals and blue-greens wall of slightly disdainful women. this will help me swap the three maps in there to the office map wall.
i have also acquired this gigantic plaster-over-wood mirror for $15. i am using leftover rub n buff bc i don't have a great spot to spraypaint here without sheeting my entire front porch, and rub n buff is way less susceptible to 80% humidity than spray paint. also i would have to buy spray paint. i am looking up suspiciously bc i thought there was a bug. not sure what mackie was looking at.
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sylix-royalty · 3 days
Text
I’m getting back into writing, so have a Hotch/Reid snippet!
can… can i have a hug? please?
And a little bit of
oh, sweetheart- come here.
With a dash of
how long has it been since someone hugged you?
Type: Angsty Fluff
Warnings: Kinda just sad, brief mention of drugs
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Spencer was very obviously the most touch starved of the group. It wasn’t to no fault of his, not really. It was clear he didn’t prefer physical contact most of the time, but Aaron wasn’t stupid. Aaron knew that despite Spencer’s sensory issues and mild germaphobic tendencies, he really just wanted to be hugged sometimes.
It was more obvious after some cases, when his arms wrapped around himself as he sat alone on the back of the plane, curled up as staring out of the window rather than reading whatever book he’d already read 7 or 8 times that week. It was only Wednesday after all.
It was less obvious after others, the itch of his hands as he read, how they’d twitch before he’d read a page. Aaron noticed, but he wasn’t sure that the others did, too careful of Spencer sensory. And Spencer clearly didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire of his own mind by his need of physical contact. But, Aaron wasn’t stupid. He was a profiler for a reason. But he wasn’t just going to jump down Spencer’s throat like that, putting him on the spot would be unhelpful and most likely backfire.
So, Aaron watched more intentionally. Trying to give an obvious sign to Spencer that he was here for him, should Spencer need him. It took a while, longer than Aaron liked to admit, but finally Spencer came into his office after hours.
The case had been a bad one. Having to deal with not only children, but Spencer was taken as a hostage and belittled so bad that Aaron was on the verge of shooting the man just to make him shut the hell up for good. Of course he couldn’t, that would risk his job, and more importantly Spencer’s life, but the thought definitely crossed his mind.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Spencer asked softly, and Aaron nodded slowly.
“Stay as long as you need,” he said gently, trying not to use that boss tone he knew he had. Spencer nodded, noting the attempt, and sat on the couch, curled up with his arms around himself once again, staring at the wall.
Aaron worked in silence, not going to push or pry answers out of the younger. He knew Spencer was struggling, and he had a terrible reputation when it came to asking for help. But Aaron hoped he was slowly working through that.
“You don’t believe him, do you?” Spencer whispered, finally. “You don’t… you don’t see me as a… drugged up, ratty—“
“No, Spencer,” Aaron cut him off, not allowing Spencer to repeat the words of the UnSub. “I don’t see you like that. No one does.”
“I do,” Spencer whispered, “I feel like that, sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if everything’s worth it.”
“It’s all worth it,” Aaron whispered.
“You would say that,” Spencer whispered, and Aaron set his pen down.
“Meaning?” Aaron asked without trying to sound offended or offput.
“Meaning you see me,” Spencer explained. “You see the man I’m trying to be. You… you understand… who I am in a way that most other’s can’t.”
“I’m perceptive,” Aaron reasoned.
“Yes,” Spencer agreed. “But you also care.”
“This team cares about you,” Aaron reasoned.
“They do,” Spencer nodded. “But they care so much about one thing, something you’ve been… overlooking lately.”
Aaron blinked.
“You’ve been staring at me, after cases. Reading me. I see your eyes. I feel them.”
“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, that wasn’t my intention,” Aaron promised.
“No, I know,” Spencer promised. “I just…” he inhaled slowly, his arms falling from where they were wrapped around him. “Can I have… have a hug? Please?”
Aaron exhaled slowly from where he sat, finally hearing the words come from Spencer’s mouth almost made him jump out of his chair. He still moved a bit too quick, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind or care as he quickly got off the couch, hearing Aaron’s gentle “oh sweetheart, come here,” and met Aaron halfway, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s shoulders, and Aaron’s arms around his waist.
Spencer almost broke right there. But Aaron held him up strong, as per usual. He kept his hold for as long as Spencer needed, or wanted, which was longer than he originally calculated.
“When was the last time someone hugged you?” Aaron whispered into his ear.
“Too long,” Spencer whispered, voice broken and scraggly as he pushed his nose into Aaron’s shoulder.
“Don’t let it ever be that long again,” Aaron whispered.
“I’m here, Spence. I’m right here.”
27 notes · View notes