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[piscoyt]

a good percentage of the times i think "is what im doing cringe?" the answer i give myself is "no. a speedrunner did it and so can i"

[yo-yo-yeonkai]

WINTERS SACRED GIFT TO YOU, MY LOVE - CHOI SOOBIN - NSFW

Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

warning list: Dom!Soobin, kinda Brat!reader, long term boyfriend Soobin, fingering (f!receiving), marking, chocking, degradation; (slut), praise, pet names; (baby, darling, my love), smut with plot, have to stay quiet, family in the house, breeding ( though I wouldn’t say it’s a kink in this situation, it’s just kinda happening in the plot), not proofread, lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 4,600

Summary: Whist receiving a surprise visit from her long term boyfriend, Soobin, in her family home, they end up getting risky and frisky upstairs in her room.

Authors note: Happy birthday Soobin!! I have returned from my eternal slumber to make sure I wrote something for the occasion. Sorry if it isn’t as good as normal my loves <3

Sheets of white, sharp flakes clung to the barrier between cool frosted winters and the fluffy comfort of your home. The weather in England was hardly ever snowy, it was more likely to rain. Throughout your whole 23 years of living, you had seen snow maybe 7 times, most winters were just cool and wet. Despite how uncommon it is, small speckles of frost attempted to cover the ground in a blanket of snow, attempted being the key word. The light rain from this morning had yet to glaze over into ice, meaning the second the white drops of snow made contact with the ground they simply melted, joining the growing puddles across the streets.

Inside however, the rooms shone with the warm glow of small fairy lights, strung neatly almost anywhere you could get them. Golden and red tinsel increased the warm toasty feeling among the house in a similar way to the small bulbs of light scattered among the tinsel. This year the home was decorated with assistance from both of your siblings, and your mum, and it actually felt like the holiday season, for the first time in your adult life. You've had 3 Christmases in the new house, none had felt like this so far. The chilly weather slipped through any entrance it could find, the house looked beautiful, and you all managed to get some form of break from work this December.

Currently, your mum was cooking your dinner downstairs, while upstairs your little sister was tasked with keeping you warm. However, instead of acting on simple thoughts and holding you to keep you warm, she sat cross legged on the floor gazing up at you, trying to devise a genius plan to keep you warm. You had already begged your Mum to turn up the heating, and even turned the dial up a few times, just for your mum to realise and turn it back down.

Unfortunately, none of your requests were accepted, all because everyone else felt completely content with the temperature. At least, that's what they say, you reckon this was all just a massive ploy to get you to accept their hugs more. You weren't one for accepting your family's attention you see, but they LOVED physical touch and affection. In this situation, you had no choice but to wait for your sister to either give up at keeping you warm or come up with an idea.

"Youngsook, sis, please come up with an idea" you begged, a pout showing on your face as you shivered to yourself slightly. Your whines didn't stop the flow of horrible ideas through her brain, but it did seem to encourage her to give up and hug you. Moving to join you in the bed, she sighed, seemingly defeated by the lack of ideas swirling through her head. However, just as a victory flashed before you, it was taken away, she stoped her movement and ran to the bathroom.

"YOUNGSOOK!" You shouted desperately to her, the soft whine in your voice slipping into your tone once again. She poked her head around the door frame, to look at you, and spoke "Give me a second you big baby!", then she rummaged through what sounds like the bathroom cupboard until she found whatever it was, she was looking for. She held something behind her back as she walked into the room "'look away" she said, laughing to herself. The worry in your head informed you that you shouldn't, but you were far too cold to fight anymore, so with that you closed your eyes. The sound of her fumbling around near the side of the bed, chuckling to herself and muttering "'I'm a genius" before something snuck under the cover. It should have worried you, but you've known her forever so you wouldn't be scared by such innocently simple acts.

She spoke up "Open your eyes now" she couldn't stop laughing and it made you giggle back at her. You turned to her and quirked an eyebrow "'okay, what is your genius plan?", she laughed at you, and suddenly a mildly loud noise could be heard, accompanied by a strange warmth radiating underneath the blanket. You moved your hand towards the heat, and laughed at her "Are you using the hairdryer to warm me up?". She nodded and smiled widely "'it's working, isn't it?!" She asked, very content with herself. You nodded and closed your eyes, happy to finally feel warm.

Youngsook leant against the bed staring at you goofily, the look across her face only being one of deep amusement that this was actually working. You were pulled out of your daze by the sound of the door opening and your older brother, MinSook speaking "'What the hell is that noise? What did you two manage to break this time?". Youngsook waved the hair dryer in response, and you whined "NOOO, put it back, I'm cold!". He face palmed, instructing "'don't put it back, you are both smart enough to know that's a fire hazard so why are you doing it!".

Youngsook turned off the hair dryer and aimed it at him "'desperate times call for desperate measures" she shouted. You laughed then reached for her "'No, don't shoot, it's not worth it" you joked. He stepped closer and she shouted again "'don't take another step towards the princess, I will not hesitate to shoot!". Youngsook  seemingly had no problem with understanding your silly little joke and played along with you. However, your older brother flicked Youngsook's head and pulled you out of the covers and stood you up, hand wrapped around your wrist like a naughty child, "'I will be taking the ‘princess’ to have her dinner. If you object, then shoot, if not put the dam thing back where it belongs" he told, knowing Youngsook wouldn't disagree with food. Despite seeming more mature than you and Youngsook, you didn't fail to notice that MinSook still played along with the joke.

He dragged you out of the room and his hand radiated waves of warmth into your skin "'gosh, you are so warm. Why couldn't i have stayed with you whilst you and mum were making dinner? You didn't have to banish us from the kitchen you know!" You mumbled. He let you go as you reached the kitchen, moving away from you to plate dinner up for everyone. "'I DID have to banish you! The two of you wouldn't stop getting in my way. As much as I absolutely love, ew, having you home, dinner would have never got done if you stayed in the kitchen. I was hoping Youngsook would just like lay with you and watch a movie, but no... sometimes I question if you two are straight up idiots". MinSook whined, teasing you about yours and her antics.

I'm sure I've made you seem like immature babies, but I promise you are grown up, it's just that when you get distracted and caught up by fun Youngsook likes to join, and vice versa. MinSook will join in some of the time, but when he is busy and you are distracting him, he will either give in, or kick you out of the room. Normally, you can get him to join for a little while, but once that's over you would most likely get kicked out and made to clean up your mess.

This doesn't make you and her upset, you only find his behaviour amusing, because he clearly wanted to join in, but doesn't want to be seen like a baby. He was 3 years older than you, sitting at 26, whilst she was 1 year younger than you, sitting at 22. There wasn't much of an age gap, but somehow it made all the difference.

Youngsook knocked on the wall, near the kitchens entrance, and asked "'am I allowed back in the kitchen?". MinSook looked at the girl, thinking about his options for a second before he responded "'yeah, can you do me a favour and take the plates to the table while I put away the leftovers. Mum's already in there setting up, just help her".

She stepped into the kitchen at the request and took five plates through to the dinner table. You watched as she took the plates, leaving you confused... there were only four of you at home, your dad was away on a business trip. You moved to watch her set the table and smiled, content at the proof that you could be just as grown up as your older brother. Well, you say that, but really Youngsook was doing all the work right now and you were stealing her thunder.

You turned on your heel and wondered back into the kitchen, glancing at your brother. "Why is the table set up for five? Are we expecting someone?" You question, rapidly becoming concerned at who in the hell could be joining you. He huffed at you "stop asking questions, go sit down", he turned to roll his eyes at you then went back to putting the leftovers into containers. Is he seriously going to be like that? This motherfucker...

An idea shot to your brain, the instant need for an answer seeping into your thoughts. Jumping down from the counter, you landed softly and walked towards him. You wrapped your arms around him, side hugging him. He groaned sassily "'gurl, can you get off while I put this away". You jokingly pouted and let go, waiting for the very second, he had put the leftovers in the fridge, so you could reattach your arms. But this time, your arms hit his bare back by sliding under his jumper. Causing a yelp to slip out of his mouth as he tried to get away from you but couldn't. You laughed manically, rubbing your cold fingers against any bit of his back that you were yet to touch. "AHHHHH..... (Y/N)... p-please. AHHH ST-OP" he shouted, screaming every time you reached a spot that was yet to be damaged by your cold nature. You cackled as you tortured him, but he wasn't sure whether to laugh at your witchy laugh, or cry that you had gone insane.

Giggling, you halted the movement of your hands "'What will you do for me if  I remove them eh~" you joke, trying to bargain with him. He huffs weakly in return, "'remove your hands and I'll tell you". Slowly, you removed them and seeing a chance of escape he ran away from you, stopping in the hallway. "'watch this..." he spoke, bringing his hand up and turning the dial on the heating so it would be warmer for you. You giggled "the best thing you could've honestly done right now". Then walked towards the table, content at the payment you had received.

At the dinner table there was now another person sat down, a person you knew all too well. Seeing his face made you squeal and run up and hug him, nearly sending you and him backwards on the chair. Once you had released him, you moved to sit in your chair, though you wished you could've hugged and kissed him, but your family was there. 

He chuckles as you sit next to him "Surprise (N/N), I've managed to get a break and I'm here to visit" he cheers, making cute jazzy hands at the surprise. Tears of joy threatened to spill at the discovery that he was here, at your family's house. He was meant to be in Seoul. You were meant to be in Seoul, how had you both managed to get a break from work? This was far too good to be true! Is this what main characters feel like?

"Oh, thank god, I'm so glad to see you, Soobin. How long will you be staying? When did you get here? How did you get here? Who told you the address? Which one of you sneaky people told Soobin to visit, without telling me!?" You stress him with a battery of questions, then address your family with the last question. Your mum giggled at your questions "I did sweetheart. But let's just begin dinner for now, Soobin can answer later, isn't that right Soobin?". He nods gently at your mother and grasps your hand quickly as the others focus on serving their food. He was overjoyed to see you; you could tell by the way his eyes twinkled every time he gazed over at you. His thumb rubbed on the back of your hand and then he let go to serve you both some dinner. Holding your hand was the best he could do right now to show you that he missed you, that he loves you, that he's happy, and you appreciated everything about it.

At the dinner table conversation was kept light because you were all more focused on eating, the food being absolutely delicious, served with a glass of wine each, cause YoungSook set the table. The girl definitely knows how to set a table. However, she didn't even like her wine, so MinSook ended up drinking her glass and his. Soobin drunk yours whilst you weren't looking, trying to be cheeky with you. Which he knew was okay because you didn't love wine either, he knew you'd rather a cocktail. Not that it made much difference to you, you hadn't been drinking for a while. When you were all done, you cleared the stuff of the table and let your family catch up with Soobin because they hadn't seen him in ages.

In the kitchen you turned some music on and started to wash the dishes, you were singing quietly and had managed to get bubbles splashed up yourself. You laughed at your messy appearance and continued to wash up.

When you were done, you grabbed a handful of bubbles and showed Youngsook, who could see you from the dinner table, giving her a 'shush' motion and pointing at Soobin. She looked away quickly, trying her best not to laugh at what was about to happen. You crept up behind Soobin and slapped his face with the bubbles, laughing at him. He wiped the bubbles from himself and looked back at you "'there is no excuse for that, I know for a fact you haven't had anything to drink.... So why in the world am I covered in bubbles?" He questioned with a chuckle and a cock of his eyebrow. You giggled and pointed at Youngsook "She told me to do it!".

Soobin looked to Youngsook, who gave him a knowing look, and the man only chuckled, excusing himself from the dinner table and rushing off to the kitchen, and then speeding back with a handful of bubbles. The sight meets your eyes and you quickly take off running up to your room, hoping you can lock the door before he gets there. Foolish were you to think you could beat a giant in a race.

You were inches, no, centimetres from locking the door when he wedged his foot in the door and then pushed it open with his elbow, his whole-body strength behind the push. He smirked as he approached you, rubbing his bubbly hands all over your face as he giggled, dimples showing which only made it difficult to be mad at him. He pauses his ministrations and holds your cheeks, taking his time with examining you before he mutters, so honestly and rawly it hurt to hear "I missed you so much. I'm so glad I'm here. I love you so much, I don't want to be apart from you again". He'd told you he loved you before, but this time he meant it with more than just his own being, he meant it with the whole world behind him, the whole universe. It felt special...

His face dives towards yours, not waiting for you to respond to his loving remarks, as his lips meet yours. Soft, gentle lips moved sweetly against yours, even carefully, until you moved closer to him. Then everything changed, it became more heated. His lips slid against your own wet ones as he forced the kiss deeper and deeper, feeling the urge to be so close with you you'd never have to be apart again.

Breaking away from the kiss for a split second, he lowly admits "I want you" then his lips were back on yours as he walks you backwards towards your bed. The second your legs come in touch with the edge of it you fall backwards onto it, him standing and watching as you do so.

As he eyes you, you giggle "Soob~ my family are here. We can't do this right now". He walks back towards your door and locks it, then returned to you, leaning over you on the bed.

"Oh darling, you can be quiet for me can't you. It wouldn't be the first time we've fucked with our family around, and I'm sure it won't be the last time either." He chuckles, a deep tone slowly becoming more and more prominent as he gets turned on.

His head draws close to your neck and right before he slides his tongue up your neck, you feel his hot breath fan across your skin. A warmth you've been craving all day, and you're sure he knows it. Everyone knows you get cold during winter; you were sensitive to weather, and normally Soobin would 'help' with that.

"Soobin... we shouldn't, you know we shouldn't" you mutter, voice slowly becoming more and more whiney and desperate. He knew it was working when he heard your voice, he knew that you wanted him as well. He didn't respond, in fact he only pursued you more.

His hot mouth latches onto your neck, sucking and biting at all your most sensitive spots, because he knows you like the back of his hand. The feeling causes a desperate whine to slip out of your lips before you could catch it. He groans and chuckles in your ear, his head drawing close to your neck "'do you want to be touched baby?" He asks in a gruff voice. You nod your head and whimper, trying to grind up onto him. "'then admit, you want me. It's not difficult darling".

You look down at Soobin and see him smirking, there was no way you were giving in to him that easily. "No, nothing to admit" you spoke, trying to grind on Soobin but failing. Soobin moves himself so he's leaning directly above you, hand either side of your head, making sure he's pressing his clothed cock right where you want it.

You nervously look up at Soobin, seeing him leaning to look at you. "'How many times does it take a brat like you to learn their lesson. Every time you always end up begging for my cock, so why don't we just cut to the chase, and you can start begging for me now hmmm~" The black-haired male speaks.

You glare at him and speak clearly "'I'm not that weak. I'll last this time".

Soobin groans "'that's too bad baby, I was really hoping you would just play nice today. After all, I did just fly so long to see you. You just love to put up a fight huh?". You turn your head to look away from him, flustered at his dirty whispering, but in doing so you had opened your neck up for an impatient Soobin.

"Ah, ah, ah. You don't get to look where you want to!" He speaks, bringing your face back in his direction with his hand wrapped securely around your neck. "'do you know why you don't get to do what you want?" He asked, leaning further toward you. You shook your head, and he chuckles "because you are a bad girl, and bad girls don't get what they want". Soobin tuts and smirks "'I'd be more than happy to indulge your desires (Y/N), but only if you beg for it". He runs his other hand across your body teasingly, leaning back to keep his balance, his other hand still around your neck.

"this is your chance to tell me no baby, all I need to hear is the word and I'll stop" he tells you, waiting for you to tell him he could before he continues, which made instant confirmation fall from your mouth. He pulled your clothes of you then pulled his shirt over his head, pulling off his joggers, then positioning himself between your legs like a missionary position.

You shivered at your lack of clothes trying to pull Soobin close to you so you could be warm but he stayed in place "'no can do darling, if you weren't such a naughty girl you'd be warm hmm~" he teased, kissing up your stomach to your naked chest. His tongue flicked over your hardened nipple and the other one was caressed by his hand. "mmmm, Soobin don't tease-" you spoke, gripping his hair in your hand. He chuckled dryly and muttered "You don't get to make orders tonight, baby. I'll tease you if I want to". Your eyes grew wide at the feeling of his fingers on your clit all of a sudden, whilst also having one hand on a nipple, and his tongue on the other one.

You knew you were fucked when Soobin got this dominant, he was a switch normally so when he topped like this, you knew there was no helping you. You were absolutely fucked. Not that you mind, of course.

"Soobin, please your fingers" you spoke, trying to sound like you weren't begging but failing. He hummed against your nipple then pulled his mouth off with a soft bite before speaking in a deep gravelly voice, "'my fingers eh~ seeing as you asked with your manners....".

He then slowly eased your soaking hole with his finger so it'll be ready for him, but if he was honest he'd claim that he liked when you were so tight and he'd stretch you out with his cock. "Oh darling, you are so fucking wet, and all for me. God you are so cute" he groaned, feeling his fingers slide in with no problem. You moan at the feeling and he chuckles "OooHo, that never lasts long baby, you'll be screaming in no time. But today baby, you need to stay quiet okay, atleast do that correctly".

You threw your arm over your face in an attempt to hide the burning blush that attacked your face. He started to go faster and you groaned and whined, throwing your arm off your face and looking at Soobin. "'that's it baby, keep your eyes on me" he speaks. You let a loud whine out as he adds another finger and your eyes fall off of him and roll to look at the ceiling. "'no, I don't think so. Look at me!" Soobin tells you, reaching to slap a hand over your mouth so you'll be quiet.

You look back to him and notice his gaze never falling off of you. Soobin's eyes were on you the entire time and that only made you clench around him, the ache In your stomach tightening.

Noticing you were close Soobin removes his fingers from you and pulls his boxers off, flipping you over so you were on top of him. "'I mean it now baby, remember the word" he says and kisses you hard, letting you know it's perfectly okay to stop whenever you want. He holds his dick against your entrance and teases you. Soft moans slip out of your mouth at the feeling of Soobin stretching out your pussy with his tip when you feel his hands wander across your body. Soobin's head presses against your neck and he kisses down your skin, ready to make you cry from pleasure.

Soobin begins thrusting in and out of you, your own hand quickly coming up to your mouth to hold back any moans that fall from your lips. "Ughh~ yeah baby stay quiet for me~"Soobin whispers into your ear, encouraging you to be quiet, which he rarely ever does, as he slowly goes in and out of you. Your whimpering dies down and it turns into moaning causing Soobin to speak "Are you ready to prove that you can be good for me, baby?".

In return you whine "'yes... mmmm... yes".

Soobin wasn't pleased, his hands digging into your hips slightly as he spoke up "'then beg for my cock huh~".

You looked down at him and begged "'please, Soob, Fuck me, make me feel good. Fuck.... I'll be so good, I'm sorry for lying, fuck me, please" Your words dripped with desperation, and even Soobin seemed encouraged by your begging.

"'oh, that was pathetic (Y/N), you are such a slut for me" Soobin chuckled into your ear, starting to speed up.

The moans that had died down as he demanded you to beg, had returned as he started thrusting into you faster, the sounds of wetness and skin slapping together echoing through the entire room. "yeah, darling take my cock... just like that" Soobin spoke, keeping his grip on your hips. You could barely hear Soobin over the sound of your own breathing. But you could tell he muttered dirty words into your ear. "Ughh, my fucking slut, taking me so well..... such a good little thing".

Moans and whines slipped from your throat, straight into your hand, as you bounced on Soobin's big cock, and jolted forward from the motion of his big hand slapping against your ass. The second he realised that would only cause more noise he switched to placing his veiny hands on your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your body grew hotter and hotter as his dick continued to slip in and out of your wet, tight hole.

In that moment, you muttered something as you leant against Soobin's shoulder, your body being jolted by the aggressive movement. "'please..... cum inside me", that is what you muttered, it was desperate just like every other word that had slipped out of your mouth in this moment. But this sentence was different, it held a deeper desire behind the words, one the boy knew all about.

Soobin had heard the words slip out of your mouth and slowed down for a second before speaking as clearly as he could "are you sure (Y/N)?". He didn't use a nickname or a pet name, he used your name, the desire to get through to your conscious as honest as your wish. You nodded the best you could and spoke up "'yes, please, I want a baby".

Soobin demanded, almost to himself "'okay Darling, I'll give you a baby.". Soobin groaned in pleasure and kept going, trying his best to let you know he will fulfil your request. No, that he wants to fulfil your request. He kept going for awhile until you were both close, at which point you collapsed against him, tired, and he spoke "Are you sure darling ?, he checked as he was going to cum and in response you let out a short "very...".  As soon as the word had fell from your mouth his cum shot inside of you painting your walls white as you came on him.

You were catching your breathe when you attempted to climb of him but found that your body was to weak. Soobin rolled you over so you were underneath him and then he pulled out of you, kissing your stomach and mumbling "I love you so much my love". You ruffled his hair and spoke "I feel the same way Soobin.... I love you so much".

[shroomaz]

"No One Else but You..." (Introduction)

A Future! RISE! Donatello x GN! Reader (Series)

A/N: This is a RISE! Take on the future story (Defeated Krang Route) and how I feel Donnie would act in the future. I personally...feel like he would be a good father, yet he has to get out of the way he acts as a genius and get in touch with his more emotional side...that's where you come in my dear reader. ENJOY!!! <3

WARNING: This is a story of You and Donnie coming together and co-parenting little softshell teetle tots. If you are not interested in babies that's completely fine- I'm much either LMAOOO-

He couldn't remember what life was like before.

It had been 20 years since the Krang were sent back to the prison dimension. And in those 20 years, the turtles have turned from teenagers...to adults.

It was such a change; especially for Donatello. The science behind time was never something Donnie could figure out. Time flew by so quickly- within a blink of an eye.

And thus, science still prospered.

It was something that he could look forward to in studies; more things to discover, more to understand...and that helped keep his mind occupied. This meant more projects of technological advancements and more body parts and upgrades for Shelldon.

It kept his mind off of...you. 

How is this? It all started the day you walked into his life...funny isn't it? The rooftop meeting; he never imagined would've give such bliss in memories as it did now.

Irony? The emotionally unavailable bad boy image twisting around and slowly becoming so attached to you throughout life the more he missed you.

He would often stay up doing all-nighters (like usual), trying to get his brain to think of other things...to no hope. Just going back to you.

It was nearly 17 years ago- 3 years after Krang was imprisoned...

......

...

"Donnie...?"

An 18-year-old Don was working on some upgrades to his battle shell, adding more limbs to his spider and sipping on flavorless juice. Blasting his jammy jams.

"DONNIE!" you had yelled out to Donnie to catch his attention.

"Hm?" Donnie had lifted his tech goggles and raised an eyebrow. "Oh- greetings Y/N! What brings you here to--hEy that's my chair!" Donnie gritted through his teeth as you laid your bum onto HIS chair...anyone else he would shove them out. However, this was you, he hated to admit it, but he had a soft spot for you.

You spun in it whilst laughing as he rolled his eyes and moved his things. "Oh come on Donnieeee...you know you are happy to see me." you had teased him with a little grin.

"Oh, on the contrary, dear Y/N, it is YOU who was missing me!" he gloated placing his hand on his chest with a smile. "Besides, it's been a while since you visited- What brings you to the Great Donatello today~?" more gloating...he loves to toot his own horn, doesn't he? It was cute.

"Can't I just come to see my partner anytime I want, hm? And-" Donnie turned back to you as he cheered.

"Victory! It seems that I am right...much like I concluded-"

"How else would you see me again." 

"....What...?" Donnie's features had dropped, as suddenly the once purple lights faded to black.

It was nothing but you... 

"What...where...? Y/N? What's going on?" Donnie had so many questions that needed answers, but were left unattended. You walked forward like you were reaching...but you turned and walked away, getting further and further.

"Y/N? No...No, no, no--Nonononono-NO- please don't leave me again- PLEASE!" Donnie called out as you continued into the darkness. The more he tried to rush to you, the more he felt like his limbs were being held back by gravity. The sound of an alarm blaring in the background getting louder.

You had looked back at him with a smile before he woke up again.

Gasping for air- and shooting up into a more proper sitting position.

He had fallen asleep at his desk again.

Looking around at his surroundings...feeling older and not like he did in his dream.

A dream...it was all a dream.

Donnie sighs as he places a hand over his face in a facepalm...and then there he felt it, the tears.

....He sighed as he rubbed his temples before looking over at one of his stations.

Standing, and stretching- he made his way to the table, and looked down at his project...his very high priority subject.

Smiling, almost full of pride.

Looking upon a specially-made incubator full of softshell eggs.

(END)

(I know this story doesn't explain a lot but its more like the prologue.

[hell-drabbles]

Mock-up Card 1

Basically it's just an L Card with the Embittered Companion and Lucifer working together because my brain is stuck on that for some reason? It's weird. Anyways, when you activate the Ultimate Skill of this card, you switch to either Lucifer or the Embittered Companion. A sort of, two-in-one card. Embittered Companion is all about dealing damage while Lucifer is all about healing. There's a boost to their ATK for a good while after switching. Don't ask about the numbers, I didn't think of them at aaaall.

Also I don't have it in me to write prose right now, so here be lines!!!

[First Encounter]

YOU: Hey. It's been how many years? You know, since I last took up a weapon to chase people away? It's pretty nostalgic, honestly. LUCIFER: …are you already forgetting what you promised us? YOU: I'm not gonna charge in head first, you two. Get off my ass.

[Level Up]

YOU: What I lack… LUCIFER: I'll make up.

[Evolve]

YOU: It would be nice, to have less lives lost. LUCIFER: But all we can do is continue on, until the very end.

[Ultimate Skill 1]

YOU: Go ahead and take a nap, Lucifer.

[Ultimate Skill 2]

LUCIFER: Sit. Rest. You're bleeding.

[Upon Death]

YOU: I'm still shit at keeping promises huh? LUCIFER: It's not your fault. Let's go.

[Victory 1]

YOU: Glad to see you've been focusing on the task at hand, Ra-on. Well, battle's over, so you can do whatever the hell you want.

[Victory 2]

LUCIFER: This is something to celebrate about, isn't it? …yes, you'll be invited to the party.

[Defeat]

LUCIFER: A mortal body such as their's does not deserve to have injuries like this. Keep quiet, they'll wake up. I know they will.

[Lobby Interaction 1]

YOU: It's kind of funny to me that, after all that, my normal body hasn't really changed one bit. Still the same strength, still the same weaknesses. LUCIFER: It doesn't make it any less remarkable to me. YOU: So you and Ra-on say. Well, I've been in this body longer than anyone, so I wouldn't know what to be impressed by. Everything about this body is just uninteresting to me. Doesn't make me any less happy that I'm back in it, though.

[Lobby Interaction 2]

YOU: Hmm? What are you staring at us for, Ra-on? We that good of a sight? …happy, huh? Yeah, I suppose Lucifer and I make each other pretty happy. Don't discount yourself though, buddy. Wouldn't be in the place that I am without your help.

[Lobby Interaction 3]

LUCIFER: Your hands. Let me see them. YOU: Huh? Alright, but why? LUCIFER: Ra-on told me you forgot about your blisters. YOU: Oh. Oh! No, yeah I did forget. Whoops. But hey, at least I'm wearing gloves this time around, so they're not that bad. None of them popped, so they should heal nicely.

[Lobby Interaction 4]

LUCIFER: If you wanted to destroy Heaven, would you? I wouldn't blame you if you answered 'yes.' YOU: …maybe a younger, more freshly wounded version of myself would've said yes, but as I am now, no. The fate of Heaven is not mine to control. I can only control the distance between me and that place. Besides, I'll hold onto hope that the angels will eventually weed out that sickening need to be superior.

[Lobby Interaction 5]

LUCIFER: Shh. They haven't rested well last night. Whatever it is you want to ask, save it for later. Hmm? Mm. Yes, they're… still haunted by everything. Not even in sleep can they be allowed to escape. A curse that not even my powers can relieve.

[Lobby Interaction 6]

YOU: You know, I haven't heard the name Solomon in a while. Did you finally put your foot while I was away, Ra-on?

[Lobby Interaction 7]

YOU: Another angel almost snatched me up today. Even in this human form they hate so much, they still want to whisk me up right back to that suffocating cradle. Thanks for the warning by the way. LUCIFER: While we were all once siblings connected through our love for God, I won't allow them to repeat that torture. If I must make my words absolute, then I will.

[Lobby Interaction 8]

LUCIFER: Have you adjusted yet? YOU: To what? LUCIFER: To your lack of extra limbs. To that body of yours. Is there any pain? Any noises that want to invade your eyes and ears? YOU: …There's nothing. Sometimes I'll feel like I'm missing something, but it's all blissfully silent.

[Lobby Interaction 9]

LUCIFER: Do you have no intention of staying here? YOU: I have no intention of ever forgetting you, Lucifer. But, I can't stay here. This is not my home. Our home, is right where Minhyeok is. Where our beloved earth is. Hell is nice, but I'm pretty sure Ra-on and I miss the comfort of our home's air.

[Lobby Interaction 10]

YOU: Lucifer? LUCIFER: Yes? YOU: If, one day, I decide to visit, would you welcome me? LUCIFER: …always. A small visit, or a promise to dedicate our existences to one another, I'll welcome it all the same.

[holdmytesseract]

Cravings & Foot Rubs

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N

Summary: Pop-Tarts, foot rubs and massages. That's all you are craving - and Loki is more than willing to fulfill your wishes.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, pregnancy things, Loki being an overprotective lil' beb, ladders?

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: To celebrate the release of the Loki Season 2 trailer, I thought I'm gonna post a lil' story! ☺️

This was an idea @eleniblue had. ☺️ She texted me the thing with the foot rubs and massages - and well... That's what the writing department in my brain spat out. I love it. I hope y'all do, too! 🥰

Baby Fever Crew: @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @eleniblue @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @coldnique @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @mostclevermiss @aagn360 @acefeather2002 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @lokiforever @anukulee

Peeps, I think might like this... @mochie85 @smolvenger @muddyorbsblr ☺️

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

With a low grunt, you stepped on the little ladder, in order to reach the top shelf, in which the Avengers had stowed away the Pop-Tarts. They had to hide them away. Unless Thor would've eaten all of them - and he wasn't the only one who liked the sweet treat. You did, too, for example.

Unfortunately, was the mission ahead no easy one for you - at least at the moment, with being almost eight months pregnant... This far along in the pregnancy was almost everything a difficult task.

"Uhh, getting Pop-Tarts, babe... We ran out of them and, uh, I desperately wanted some, and I know where Tony hides them, so..." Loki helped you step down from the ladder; his strong grip not ceasing. Once your feet touched solid ground again, you turned to face him. "So, you decide to climb a ladder in order to get some?!" "Uhh, yeah?" Troubled blue eyes were looking down at you. The expression on his face told him that he didn't like this at all.

Taking the next two steps with a grunt, your hand was finally able to reach the top shelf. You let out a victorious giggle and grabbed the Pop-Tarts you craved - chocolate and strawberry.

Just when you wanted to take a step back again, in order to get off the small ladder, you suddenly felt two very strong hands gripping your hips. "What by the holy roots of Yggdrasil are you doing, love?!" It was your husband, of course. The pitch of his voice told you, that he was not amused... And worried.

Your lover took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Darling... This is dangerous..." He started; both his palms wandering from your hips to the swell of your stomach. "You can't just climb a ladder, being so heavily pregnant... You could've fallen! I was just down the hall. You could've asked me - or hence, even him to help you!" Loki turned to nod at Bucky, who sat quietly on one of the bar stools; eating chocolate pudding. He didn't want to just interfere in your argument, so he kept his mouth shut and played 'Subway Surfers' on his mobile. But when Loki called him out, he lifted his head to face the 'fighting' couple. The god looked at him with a rather mean gaze, while you had an apologetic expression on your face; mouthing 'Sorry, Buck.'

Bucky immediately lifted his hands in surrender. "Hey, don't put this on me, man. I tried to help her, but she told me she was fine, so I accepted her decision." Your husband turned back around to you. "Y/N!" "I'm sorry, babe! But I wanted to make this on my own. I am not sick, just pregnant." Loki sighed; "I know that, love, and I can understand it as well - but..." his hands found your baby bump once more. "I just want you two to be safe. Next time you're craving Pop-Tarts, please tell me. I'll get them for you, yes?" You nodded; getting his point. "Yes." Loki smiled, "Good girl." and leaned forward to peck your lips. "Now, is there something else my beautiful wife is craving, beside Pop-Tarts?"

Believe it or not, but the god loved to give you any kind of massages you desired. He loved the feeling of your skin underneath his palms and fingertips, and the fact that he was able to ease up a lot of your pains. Those magically hands of his, were always able to make you feel good. In more than just one way.

Your cheeks turned slightly red because of Loki's flattering words, as you thought for a moment, then smiled; biting your lip. "Foot rubs?" Loki nodded; smiling brightly as well. "Foot rubs it is."

"Lay down, my queen and I shall give you what you desire." Loki guided you towards the sofa and even helped you lay down. He stacked up another pillow behind your back to make sure that you were comfortable. "Is this to yours and our child's liking?" You giggled like a school girl, nodding. "It is, Lokes. Thank you." "Perfect." The god moved down to your feet then; placed them on his lap. Gently taking off your socks, he started to massage your swollen, hurting feet. Not even a minute had passed, when the first satisfied and utterly relieved moan slipped past your lips. Loki just chuckled and lifted his head to meet your gaze. "Does that feel good, love?" "Heavenly..."

He continued to massage your feet for a while, before he moved up to work the muscles of your calves. After making sure that he gave them enough attention, he went to slip your maternity shorts easily up, bending one leg after the other and massaged your thighs. "Baaabe..." You grunted in satisfaction. "You are so good at this. Have you ever considered to work as a masseur? Those hands are magical - literally. Please don't stop." You pouted; looking down at him. Loki just chuckled once more and shook his head. "I do not intend to stop, darling." Of course, the god was utterly tempted to let his hands travel even further up, but he didn't, because he wanted to help your muscles relax and to give them - you, a break.

"Want me to give your back a massage as well?" "If you'd be willing to do that..." You stated; smiling sheepishly. Loki's lips twitched into another smile. "Turn around, sweet girl." You giggled and did what he said; turned on your side. "As your husband and father of this little wonder you're growing, it is my duty to do everything possible, that makes you feel good - which includes countless foot rubs and massages."

"Don't go..." You mumbled. "Stay." Loki's heart skipped a beat at your words - like so often. "Shall I join you?" A sleepy smile crossed your soft facial features. "Please..." He gave your hand a squeeze, "Alright." and let go of it, in order to lay down beside you. The god didn't slip underneath the blanket, but grabbed a pillow and slid down, until he was face to face with your bump. Pressing a lingering kiss on the roundness which was his child, he wrapped an arm around your hip and hugged you - or well, rather your baby close. You smiled at this gesture. It was something Loki loved to do.

Loki gently lifted your t-shirt, "The small of your back again?" "Uh.Huh." and started to do his good work. "Hips too, darling?" "Yep." "Alright." His hands gently kneaded the muscles and skin of your lower back first, before he moved further to your hips. Loki massaged your left hip first, then the right.

By the end of his soothing and much-needed massage, you were totally relaxed; your sore muscles eased. Hence, you were on the verge of sleeping in - what didn't slip Loki's notice, of course. You didn't even realise, how he stood up and draped a blanket over your body. Only when you felt his cool lips pressing against your forehead did your sleepy brain react. "Take a nap, my love. Rest a bit." Before he could walk away, you reached out your arm and grabbed one of his large hands.

You buried your hands in his long, wild raven curls; massaging his scalp gently. A satisfying groan rumbled through his chest, as he buried his face in the fabric of the blanket, which covered your bump.

Sometimes, words weren't needed and a gesture was all it took. That was such a moment. With your heart filled with love and adoration, you watched the love of your life cuddle with your unborn baby and slowly drifted off to sleep.

[ziracona]

[Metro Last Light fic, because it changed my brain chemistry. Finale and further from Pavel's pov: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4]

.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before Pavel woke, but Artyom was gone.

His head felt heavy, and thick, slow. But not as much as the rest of his body did. Everything was sore, or throbbing, or stabbing, or numb. It seemed like a miracle he could be alive at all.

I’m alive? Wait.

That wasn’t right. Was it? Hadn’t-?

Pavel looked for memories in the dim orange glow of a gas lamp in the ruined second story hall of Red Square, and they came. All at once, like downpour, like a blow. He had never had a memory that made him feel more struck.

…That…can’t. …

He reached up with the arm that hadn’t taken a bullet, his left, and felt the gas mask filter there. Artyom?

There was no part of him that wanted to believe what had happened to him was real. But he knew it was. He could still feel the phantom sensation of fingers digging into his head and arms and legs. He could see Artyom and that little creature, that moving room of corpses, and red light, and death. It made his hands shake.

It had been a long time since Pavel was afraid of anything.

He didn’t fear death. Not after the first few times it got close to him. It was simpler in a way, to believe there was no soul, no ghost, because nothing could hurt you, once it ended. Pavel had always seen people use the afterlife as a crutch, an excuse—‘it’s fine to suffer, it’s fine to starve, it’s fine for the powerful to lord over us. We just have to follow, because we have an eternity in paradise,’ –like that meant you deserved nothing now, or made looking away from the starving bodies in the street right. Like it was an excuse to do things you could see no justice in, and to not think for yourself why things were right and wrong, because some god out there would do it for you and give you a reward for blind compliance after death.

He had not realized believing in no spirit could be used as a crutch also.

There were old stories, of why they had burned the Kremlin, once the bombs fell. They said something so horrible was down there, that the Order had had to raze the place. …Everything in that pit of souls was dark, burned. He wondered…

Blyakha, what did it matter?! There was no time for this!

Like a corpse waking to a second life, he dragged his stiff body up, using the little table to help bear his weight. His armor was sticky with blood, and there was a red stain on the floor beneath him.

Artyom—where was Artyom?!? He had just—he had been here! He must-

Pavel turned and looked out at the hole in the wall, towards the marshes. Shit. Towards Polis. There was a light, far now, maybe a half mile off, moving steadily on. There was no way he could catch him. There was no way he could call out and be heard, either. So he just watched, until the light was gone, hand absently clutching at his chest wound, trying to keep steady pressure.

You made it again, d’Artagnian.

And so had he. It hurt.

Blin—D6.  

Right. Everyone else was dead. It was just him, and he might be following soon. He could barely stand. Need to…

Dragging the pack off his back, Pavel fell to a knee, clutching the table for support, and tugged out the compact radio. His right arm ached from the bullet through it, but duty spurred him on, and he fought through the pain to drag the radio onto the tabletop, and grit his teeth as he tuned channels. There.

“Кровь. Situation critical. All dead. Мышь, reporting—everyone else is dead. I may follow soon. Кролик—made it through. I can’t make my mark.”

There was a moment, and then he heard Comrade Korbut’s voice.

“Is he injured?”

“Yes,” replied Pavel, who was sure he alone had shot Artyom at least four times—none critical, but he’d been slower by the time he reached the second floor.

“Good. It is unfortunate, but we have made it inside. Even if they arrive, victory is ensured. Enough time is bought. More men, more waste, but the outcome does not change. Close now.”

Pavel blanched, heart sinking at the added losses. Korbut usually did not share so much. He must be as close as he ever got to being excited. That did not bode well for the Order.

What do I care?

But of course he did. How stupid was that? How could he not? It was just—fuck.

“Orders?” he managed, needing anything else to focus on.

“If you cannot make it, return. Out.” And Korbut was gone.

Pavel stayed where he was, barely up, half slumped against the table, thoughts racing.

Shit. Blyadj—I—

Why did you do that? He had had to. It was his orders—his duty. Artyom is on his way to Polis now; he will go to D-6.

Fuck!

Pavel lurched to his feet, agony shooting from his chest to his toes, and stumbled to the hole in the wall again, looking for the light he knew was well beyond sight now. WHAT?! Will you call after him??! You can’t! He’s gone!

Frantic, he turned around the empty hall like it would hold answers.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?!

I can’t! I can’t let him die there too! He just!— There must-

Hand shaking, he took the radio and then hesitated with his hand on the dial. I don’t know what frequency the Rangers use. They change it! Lesnitsky’s information was out of date a month ago! But he had to do something!

Slumping to his knees again, Pavel turned the dial to an open channel. “Artyom? Artyom Chyornyj! Artyom—emergency! Answer!”

Nothing. Of course. Why would he think it would work?

Pavel turned the channel dial and tried again. “Artyom Chyornyj! Answer! Emergency contact!”

Nothing. Again.

“Artyom Chyornyj, Spartan Ranger! Answer the call! Moving a station ahead to hail again!’

Five times. Six times. Eighteen times. Channel, after channel, after channel. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back as loud as the seconds ticking by.

“Calling for Artyom Chyornyj! This is an emergency hail! Answer! Moving a station ahead to try again!”

Again.

“Emergency hail! Trying to reach Artyom Chyornyj! Please, answer! Artyom!”

Nothing. Again!

“Hail for Artyom Chyornyj! Spartan Ranger! Pick up! Moving a channel up to try again! Please, answer me!”

Over, and over, and over. Hail, hold six seconds, move channels, hail again.

Nothing.

Empty.

Dead.

Dead like the city. Dead like Artyom was about to be.

And for what?!? For nothing! It would change NOTHING! Dead because Pavel could not stop him?! Dead because he was trying to keep his people alive? Blyakha!

Sixty-second try.

“Emergency hail for Ranger Artyom Chyornyj! Answer! Moving one channel up to try again!”

Sity-third.

“Artyom! Emergency hail for Spartan Ranger Artyom Chyornyj! Please, answer! Moving a channel up to hail again!”

Sixty-

“Hello?”

What?

“Emergency hail for Artyom—are you there?”

The voice that crackled along the radio filled him with a frenzied hope, and then Pavel realized it wasn’t…him. That was not his voice.

“-Here,” he replied, remembering to answer, brow furrowed. It wasn’t Korbut, either. It wasn’t any voice he knew.

“Who is this?”

“Who is this?” replied Pavel, just as lost.

“A friend of Artyom,” came back the voice.

“Yes,” said Pavel, as if it had been a question for him to answer, and not an answer of its own, “—A Ranger?”

“No,” came the voice, “Just a friend.”

? Just a friend? Another, non-ranger friend? VDNKh-? Or he is lying.

It didn’t have time to matter.

“Is he there?” pressed Pavel.

“No, but he’s on his way now. You have a message for him?” came the voice.

Suspicion blossomed in his chest. “Where are you?” asked Pavel.

“Polis,” came the voice, “I see him in the distance. On his way through red square.”

Polis?

Pavel looked out the window. It was too dark, too far, for him to make anything out. But that was the truth, then. Even Korbut wouldn’t have known Artyom was still between red square and Polis, and he was the only one who’d have known he was headed there this moment at all.

Okay. …okay.

“I need you to give him a message,” said Pavel.

There was a waiting silence.

Blin. … “Tell him…” Shit shit shit. “—Tell him he cannot go to D-6. He will be killed. Over.”

There was silence, and then slowly, the voice came across the radio waves. “…I cannot stop him. I think he will have to go.”

A black knot of despair welled up in Pavel’s chest.

“No. You do not understand—if he goes to D-6, he will not return! I am not telling you there will be a fight; I am telling you there will be nothing left! He will be dead! Warn him!” called Pavel, “Over.”

Again, silence.

“…Over!” called Pavel, desperate.

“… We all have our ghosts, сынок,” came the voice he did not know, “Artyom’s lie in D-6. If he must go, I cannot stop him. But I will go with him. You have my word. If he dies there, he will not die alone. Be assured, friend. Message received. Over and out.”

Pavel stared at the receiver as the radio waves went silent.

Blyakha.

His breathing was ragged, shallow.

Try again?

He reached for the dial, and stopped.

What did it matter? Stupid, to try. Even if Artyom himself answered, he would not stop. Pavel knew this. He had never once been able to stop him. He would not be able to stop him now.

He felt sick.

I told someone in Polis that D-6 is about to be sieged. …I don’t even know who it was. Well, Pavel, now there is no one you have not betrayed.

Exhausted, he slumped back against the wall and let go of the transmitter, allowing himself to shut his eyes.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Nothing had felt this terrible before. His mind and heart felt like they were being pulled apart in every direction still, even though he’d escaped that place of damned souls. No. Rescued.

Rescued again. Like before. So many times before.

He’s going to die, thought Pavel in desolate desperation, I can do nothing to stop it. I can’t even get there in time.

What was the fucking point? What was the point of him being spared, if it was going to end like this just the same? He didn’t want it. That was…it…

Dragging his exhausted eyes open again, Pavel tapped the fingers on his left hand against the floor. Tak tak tak…think. Come on. Something. He could still feel blood beneath the hand pressed hard against his chest. I need to treat this. I need…

There had to be an answer, fuck it, there was always an answer!

Remembering it, finally, Pavel looked over at the empty bag on the floor. The biohazard container, and the virus inside, meant for D-6. He had forgotten it, because it bore no more relevance in his duty. Too late to use it. But the fact it was there at all…?

He didn’t even search me, thought Pavel desperately, Why? My gun, my knife, the radio. He didn’t take any of it. Fuck. He must have not even looked.

Had he just assumed Pavel would stay no threat, because he’d saved him? When it hadn’t meant that the first three times? Had he thought he would have no strength to…?

D’Artagnian, d’Artagnian, d’Artagnian, he thought, almost angry with despair, and he dug his nails into his palm.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself, “Okay Major. You cannot die here. You have to do something with that. If you die here, somebody will open it. Even if it’s just a beast, picking at your skeleton, it will happen someday, and people die. Get up. On your feet, soldier.”

He tried. Movement was agony. His left hip had taken a bullet, and the leg tore him with pain when he put weight on it, but he did it just the same. He dug his fingertips into the grain of the table, leaving little scars behind, and dragged himself up.

“On your feet,” he hissed under his breath, lifting the pack, and replacing the radio inside beside his little box of death.

My gun. Okay.

There, at the edge of the hall.

Dragging his body slowly, stiffly, using his right hand to press against the chest wound, and his left to lean against the wall, he made it over slowly and stooped, ignoring the screams of pain along his back and legs, and lifted it, placing the empty handgun in its holster.

Two more steps. Five more steps. Another eight, and he was where he’d dropped his rifle again. Empty like the first, but big enough for what he needed, and what he needed, was to walk. Gritting his teeth, Pavel dug his fingers around the barrel, and laid the stalk against the ground, using it like a walking cane to push himself further. There were about twenty corpses here, comrades, dead now, and a good red major did not loot the dead, but everything be damned, he was going to find a medkit on one of them, and he was going to walk out of here, and would reach D-6 if it killed him.

For what? He asked himself, biting the inside of his cheek till it bled, trying to distract himself from the pain of each footstep. You cannot stop it. You cannot stop either one.

He knew that. He did. Put blin, he had to do something. And whatever he figured out it was going to be, it was going to be at D-6. All roads led there now, and he was sure as fuck going to walk his. There had to be something left to do there. It would come.

It had to.

Dragging his shot leg, Pavel made it down the stairs using his rifle like a crutch, and began to agonizingly search over dead bodies of comrades in arms. Friends. What was fucked up most about it, was that it should have mattered both more, and less than it did. Finally, he simply stopped thinking of it. It didn’t help.

On the fourth body, he finally found a little medkit in a breastcoat pocket, and knelt, tearing it open with his teeth. There wasn’t much, but it would suffice. Bracing himself for the kick, Pavel removed his hand from the gunshot wound, and jammed a syringe into his chest. These were called, ‘Defiance,’ colloquially, in the Red Line; part hemorrhagic, part morphine, part cocaine. It might kill you later, but it would sure as hell get you back up and fighting in the moment of things, and in the moment of ‘I’m about to die,’ you didn’t give too many shits about the long-term consequences. Very popular for heavy combat, and it only took a few seconds for him to feel the telltale rush of drugs in his bloodstream reaching his brain.

He let out a long, shaky sigh.

“Okay. Okay. Now that’s manageable.”

Ignoring the suddenly muffled pain, Pavel regained his feet, and turned towards the Kremlin. Towards the Red entrance to D-6.

And he began the long, arduous process, of walking.

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 5th May ✨

There’s something so so satisfying about HFTH being on ep 150, while TSV is on 40 and Travelling Light (TL, if you will) is on 20 . . . the brain is going brrrr.

Here’s what I listened to this week! Spoilers ahead!

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E9) oh what a beautiful episode 😭I’d like to bestow the highest accolade on Flo’s VA: hearing her voice and immediately casting her in an unwritten audio drama that will likely never be made. I have a theory about why Frank can’t just clear out the warehouse . . . but I really don’t want it to be true. 

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (150) You can also find me in Camp ‘Hate That Noise’!! Awful. I love this nautical storyline so much. It’s one thing to be told that Buck is now a renowned detective and another to see him in action. Sad that someone had to die but . . . I can’t wait to see the case unfold!! I’ve been trying to wrap my head around Shelby leaving the entire week. Yes, it makes perfect sense from a survival point of view but I don’t think I could have done it. 

🦀 @thesiltverses (40) what a good ep!! I’ve been so compromised by Carpenter this season. She sounds so very exhausted, even when she’s not being stalked by her god of death. I’m very concerned about ‘Verity’ who left the minute they arrived… did she recognise them?? Chuck Harm and Val are one of the most unexpected combinations of the year but I’m here for it. It is VERY interesting that Val is now suffering post-miracle. Is this a ‘gods need to feed’ situation or something else entirely. Working with God-killers worked so well for the government last time, so it’ll no doubt be over for her in no time . . .

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (20) I can’t tell you how delightful it is that this show comes out on Friday and is exactly the length of my average cycle home!! It’s such a soothing way to start the weekend! There were so many banging lines in this ep, I love a spooky friend!

🏛 @the-mistholme-museum (CONCLUSIVE) You heard it on Mistholme first! People from Yorkshire (me) have the best voices. Like honey, chocolate and coffee all at once - so people say. I can’t believe this is the penultimate episode 😭

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (14) snake friends! How delightful!! I feel a little guilty at how entertaining Alice’s jealousy is. I feel so bad for her, but the office drama is too hard to resist. 

🍎 @notquitedeadpod (XXXVII) my heart!! 💔 I had to laugh at Neige’s disdain for Alfie’s more intimate recordings right before expounding on his own experiences . . . including with their shared boyfriend! It’s a little petty. I love it. And, god, can we talk about this last line? ‘And when you call, I will come back to you because you have begun to feel like home.’ HELLO? Christ.

🌞 Small Victories by @wgc-productions (2.1) How many cosmic interventions will it take for Marisol not to make cosmically bad choices? I don’t know! I’m keeping a close eye on Summer . . . 

�� @hinaypod (3-4) Honestly, kind of kudos to Laura because if I went through what she did I would simply never touch an antique again… I really love Donner and Murphy’s rapport and how they recognise and respect Mari’s skills! 

Hope everyone has a lovely week! 🥰

I'd also like to highlight that the creators of one of my fave shows, Moonbase Theta, Out (@monkeymanproductions) , are crowdfunding for their next one! Throw some 💸 at these lovely creatives!!

[love-fireflysong]

Well howdy there! Sorry about missing last week, but I had run into a problem I like to call 'the idea is good but my execution and writing of it is fucking dogshit holy crap (and thus maybe the idea is not so good after all)' the last couple of weeks 😣 So I had not been writing the next part of OCTCRCBC like I should have been lol. So I spent the last couple of hours today trying to salvage what I had by starting to completely rewrite everything I had written down already into a very different story structure than I had started with. Thankfully it seems to have helped a bit and I'm a substantially more happy with what I have now then I did previously! Small victories!

Anyways, here's a little something from that new bit I worked on!

Looking back, Ashley would not have been able to tell you what the dream was even about. Only that she remembers not being thrilled to be awakened from whatever it had been by her phone ringing. Fumbling for the loudly ringing and vibrating piece of tech on her bedside table as she groaned, wondering who the hell would even be calling at this time of the morning. Especially on a school day. Her alarm hadn't even gone off yet, and according to the time wouldn't be going off for another three hours or so! So the almost tinny sound of Josh's voice that replied when she answered with a bleary and confused hello did not improve her mood in the slightest. "Oh fuck, were you still sleeping?" "I mean not anymore thanks to you, you dick," she mumbled out as she did her best to sink deeper under her covers. "What in the world could possibly be so important that you needed to call me this early?" The pause on the other ends make Ashley think for just a moment that the call has dropped or that Josh realized just how much of a dick he was being calling her at almost four in the morning, but it's a false hope. "Early? What the fuck are you—wait. Oh fuck. Ash, you don't even know what time it is, do you?" Ashley is ready to shoot back that if anyone doesn't know what time it is it's clearly him, but then her brain seemingly finally starts to join her in this unwanted realm of wakefulness. Remembering that in all her years of knowing Josh (all three of them at this point), that he has never once woken up before her. That so many late nights spent binging horror movie after horror movie means that if he wouldn't be moving until well past noon if he could help it. And that while the bright red numbers on her alarm clock do spell out 3:52 AM, the fact that they keep blinking in and out at her at a consistent rate is cluing her in that maybe it's not quite as early as she thinks it is.

And as a surprise bonus: I started up sewing again! 🥳🥳🥳🥳 Dropped it like a year ago (not long after I moved to my apartment in fact) and I couldn't even tell you why. But I for one am glad to have finally picked it up again! (Even if it means that every one who sees these updates will now hate me again asdkljaskldsadlj) Anyways, here's what the a combined ~12 hours of sewing looks like. Got all the black background done so you can *sorta* see the outlines on some of the critters on this page (bonus points to anyone who can actually tell what any of them are even gonna be, the already coloured ones on the borders don't count lol)!

[aggressive-almond-cookie]

I’ve been feeling a little weird lately and seeking comfort, so I decided to go replay splat2′s story mode.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, maybe briefly, but I didn’t play much of splat2 when it was active. I played a little bit of 1 when it came out, enough to fall in love with the concept but also enough to know it was for people much more mechanically skilled than me (a person who favored slow-paced sim games, turn-based RPGs, and point-and-click grindfests). I watched my housemate play 2 a bit but I couldn’t justify the purchase myself for something I figured I would terrible at. (I remember watching them play salmon run, and asking ‘wow, there’s a PvM co-op mode now?�� and thinking for a moment that maybe that would be less intimidating to learn, and then I saw a steel eel for the first time which was HORRIFIC, then watched them get completely swamped with with bosses and wipe, and decided .. no maybe not).

It was Splat3′s testfire, that I just so happened to hear about happening in a friends discord server, that happened to hit me at exactly the right time. I finally had a better job, was well on my way to healing from the trauma of my 11 years of working retail, and going through a bit of an inner renaissance, particularly getting in touch (possibly for the first time as an adult) with the true concept of play, the idea that playing didn’t have to have high stakes, that you don’t play to get a good grade in playing, you can just play to have fun and experience the thrill of intense situations in a setting where no actual danger is present.

I fell in love so quickly. I played the testfire every moment that I could and felt like I was finally, finally getting to enjoy this. In retrospect I was so bad at it-- I could barely swim up walls and I couldn’t even figure out how to use my special for the first several hours of gameplay and after trying out tons of weapons found that I was having the most luck using rollers and running over people (lol). But my skill level, for once, was something I wasn’t giving a single brain cell to worry about. I was just enjoying myself, celebrating every tiny victory and laughing at how many times I would just run off the map because I had so little spatial awareness. I won a 100x, I experienced my first squidparty, I did tricolors on attacking and felt intensely bonded with the random strangers I got partnered with. I was experiencing so many wonderful new things all at once and was absolutely euphoric.

And once the testfire was over, the emptiness it left behind left me so restless I thought I might start climbing walls. So to tide me over between then and release, I borrowed my housemate’s copy of splat2, figuring I could at least attempt story mode and learn the basics.

It was hard. Like really, really hard. I don’t... play these kinds of games. I could barely control where I was walking, I absolutely could not aim, I had zero confidence in jumping and missed even easy jumps routinely. I made it through by sheer stubbornness and force of will, running over and over through the same levels until I got lucky enough to get through them. Many levels I finished with a time of over half an hour, one at least 40 minutes, and that’s after lord knows how many failures. The last two kettles in the last zone nearly broke me. I actually cried tears of relief when I finally finished Platform Madhouse, shaking from the tension of making my final moves with the greatest precision and calculation that my clumsy and inexperienced hands could.

But... I did it, you know? And in doing so, I managed to prove to myself that I could do it-- that these kinds of games actually weren’t impossible for me, and that maybe, maybe I could overcome whatever other challenges awaited me in 3 and beyond, too.

Anyway, that’s way too much backstory to say that going back through the splat2 levels again was something of both a surreal and comforting experience. I went through them all in the span of a day, during a workday even, just playing in short intervals during breaks and lunchtime. Those last two kettles (minus octavio) were still the most difficult, but they didn’t take more than a few tries. It was satisfying to gracefully sail through so many of the levels that I struggled so painfully with less than a year ago. I’d say my confidence in making jumps has absolutely improved the most and is the thing I think has had the greatest impact on my ability to navigate the game-world in general.

I’ve been finally playing octo expansion too. A bit late maybe, but I think I had just really overhyped the difficulty in my mind and intimidated myself out of it. As it turns out, the main story is still very accessible, even to lower skill levels. You don’t have to actually complete most of the levels (or even play them) and even the points you pay to play you can go into debt with, so there’s never any real danger. You can skip levels after failing them enough times, so I think the only way you can actually get stuck might be the final segments. Granted, I’m still putting off going to the P R O M I S E D   L A N D until I have a long stretch of time for it (This is the same reason I still haven’t done After Alterna >>.., I just.. don’t have the sheer continuous amount of time to sit down and grind it out. I wish I could save states in these games so I don’t have to lose progress if I need to task-switch), so I might take this back, but so far that’s my impression.

And it’s been really enjoyable. I was happy to find there’s a ‘Who Caused The Big Bang’-style level that takes seconds to complete to make it easy to farm points (I keep wanting to call them power eggs when they’re not, lol). The levels on average are definitely more challenging than Alterna, but there are certainly several that I’d consider less challenging than Those Aren’t Birds and Target Town, and there are even some that Alterna practically made copies of (the one where you cut a shape out of boxes, for example).

That said, there have only been a few levels that I might say I breezed through-- they’re pretty challenging, but they don’t feel un-doable, and it’s so satisfying when you do overcome the challenges. It’s giving me an honest confidence boost to watch myself successfully take out a octosniper (my most feared enemy in my early days) with a charger (probably the weapon class I am weakest in) while balancing on a rotating platform (which were my absolute worst nightmare my first time going through splat2′s story mode). There’s still several levels I have to clear and some I haven’t even unlocked, but since they’re not keeping me from finishing the main storyline, I feel like I can just complete them as I feel up to it and there’s no reason to rush or get frustrated.

I love the levels where you just... play anarchy modes against octolings. Especially the one where you play rainmaker on manta maria-- tetras is a weapon option for that one and it’s quickly becoming one of my comfort levels in addition to just being good practice for firing the rainmaker. And I just love the entire vibe of everything-- much like Alterna there’s so much to see if you stop and look around, so many childhood-items floating in the sky, mixed with the music that gives me those vaporwave-esque feelings of nostalgia mixed with melancholy mixed with a feeling that’s somehow equally comforting and unsettling. And all that woven into these... weirdly juxtaposed grimdark/horror elements expressed with clown-like lightheartedness. It’s just a masterpiece of a setting and I’m so so glad I got the nerve to play this.

Splat2 in general has just been kind of a fun thing to mess around in with friends when we feel like a change of pace. Sometimes we do salmon run which is kind of awful without egg throws or squid-rolls, but we’re so low-rank that it’s still just kind of a chill experience.

I wouldn’t say I’m on a break from Splat3 anarchy because I keep intending to play it, and I know I’ll have fun with it, but then I get set up and sit down to do it and end up playing octo expansion instead. I think I may have low-key intimidated myself out of getting back into anarchy since I fell out of practice when I was out of town again; it feels like it takes me so long to get back into the swing of it and I take my losses a bit harder than I should. I tell myself octo expansion is good practice, and that’s not entirely untrue, but deep down I do know that the only thing that’s going to get me over my hesitance to play anarchy is playing anarchy.

But I guess at least if I’m going to put off addressing something I’m intimidated by, I’m glad I’m doing so by addressing something else I was previously intimidated by.

I’m really looking forward to Side Order now, especially since now I have the confidence that I’ll actually get to enjoy it along with everyone else and not get bogged down or walled off by being unable to complete basic things. I just feel a lot more capable, and it’s nice.

[ardensregias]

Hello hello! I really hope I am not coming at a bad time. I saw your requests are open and I've just been stuck in this brain rot with Jing Yuan x reader, where the reader belongs to some dragon species, has a tail and horns and all (can be Vidyadhara just to make things easier) and she's super jaded and strict, really about "business/work first, rest later" and he's trying to break through to her. Aaaaa, if this piques your interest in any way, can I please request some headcanons or a drabble for this where he finally bluntly confesses to her, something sweet/suggestive, tysm for your time!!💕 Take care!

OOOH this is so cute! ty nonnie <3 i'll try my best nd sorry for the wait (＞人＜;)

fem!reader, reader is bailu's caretaker/assistant, pining jy (are we surprised), reader has claws, open ended (reader doesn't accept him nor does she reject him)

the first time he met you was probably when you're out chasing bailu when she escaped from the alchemy commission, passing by the seat of divine foresight with your tail dragged down the road, bouncing around with each step you took, and the sight instantly made jing yuan's heart jump in adoration, finding it so cute how your nose scrunched in annoyance when you, once again, lost track of the young girl, your tail swishing in anger as you prepare to march back home to report bailu's disappearance to the other vidyadharas.

ever since that day, he has been trying multiple escape attempts, and finally succeeded when yanqing is away to patrol the city. well, the little guy wouldn't have guessed that his general has started pining after centuries of solitude.

that is when the lieutenant calls for help from the master diviner, and yanqing lets out the loudest sigh ever when he spots the dozing general trying to pester you into taking a break with that default (*´ω`*) face he wears all the time, while you just continue with dealing with of some paperwork that bailu couldn't handle. really, if jing yuan isn't the great general and strategist who led a war for centuries and came out victorious, you would've slapped him with your scaly tail and flung him back to the divine foresight—but no, you can't do that.

"please," he begs, shifting his position closer towards you. he doesn't touch you though, seeing as you did not explicitly give him permission, "won't you take a break with me? i'm sure qingzu would not mind taking over my work for a while..." his low, velvety voice only serves to weaken the desire to punch him, as you start to take pity on the overworked man.

oh but unfortunately for him and not-so-fortunately for you, yanqing has begun to sprint towards jing yuan, with the latter immediately sensing the presence of his son subordinate and moving quickly to stand behind your chair. obviously it doesn't help him, his body is clearly larger than yours and yanqing immediately does his job to drag the now pouty grown-up home.

while he cannot go out anymore, jing yuan can still send you occasional letters and invitations for a tea. and when you refused due to your workload, he begins calling the invitations as 'official meetings' and smiles innocently when you came in to see him napping on his desk. he's really testing your patience, but you also cannot deny that he looks kind of cute like that...

"since you're already here, why don't you sit down and have some tea?"

you complied, and suddenly it's been over an hour since you start venting about your work to him—he makes you do this btw, for he loves hearing your melodious voice speaking about literally everything. it feels like you're lulling him to sleep and he fantasize about just how good it would feel to have you read him bedtime stories, plus having your clawed hands brushing strands of those fluffy hair out of his face, and laying his head on your lap... (๑>◡<๑) life could be dream fr) his daydreaming is forced into a halt when he realizes that he may have poured too much tea that it soaked his papers.

this visit continues for weeks, and jing yuan realized that you're starting to slack off—which is good news, because you were always working overtime and never got the chance to relax this much before, and as the leader of this fleet, he has to make sure all his people are happy and getting enough rest, right?

as for the confession...

on a quiet afternoon in his office, the three sacred words randomly flow out of his mouth, as if it's something spontaneous and natural for the both of you.

"i love you,"

he murmurs, like it was meant to be heard by no one, but it certainly doesn't go unnoticed by your sharp ears. then the general looks at you, a faint tint of pink decorating his cheeks as the realization dawns upon him, "was i too loud?"

"yeah..." you nod and look down, unsure of what to say. how does one respond to a love declaration? you never get taught about love and affection, having spent most of your life studying and working, striving to be the perfect example of a vidyadhara.

a low but hearty laugh escapes his mouth, "looks like your tail is betraying you," he points out, watching the rough yet shiny scales glimmer under the office's light as it sways from side to side. ah, everything about you is just so mesmerizing to him.

your breath hitched as you glance back, catching your tail and hugging it close to your chest to save yourself from humiliation. what a nuisance, you think, but to the general sitting across from you, it was the most adorable thing he's ever seen aside from mimi's tender paws.

"i apologize for being sudden..." jing yuan tries to break the ice, his hand slowly moving closer to yours, "you don't have to accept my love," despite his words, he really, really hopes that you'd want to return the feelings. he'll be in shambles if you were to reject him.

this was a rare moment from him, to see the general so flustered and unsure. so, what do you say? will you gave the touchstarved man the love he deserves?

[tteokdoroki]

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — wanna, make you… + yoichi isagi

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — smut, nsfw, minors do not interact. pussy eating, fingering, new relationship, fem!reader, isagi’s cocky when it comes to making you feel good. enjoy <3

“isagi.”

“yeah, precious?”

“yoichi isagi…you’re starin’,”

at your words, his chin juts upwards to meet your gaze, ocean blue eyes darken as if you’ve hit the deepest point of water in the world. they ripple with hunger, they flicker and you see how feral he is. the kind of ravenousness you can only witness in isagi when he’s on the pitch, piecing together his perfect victory like a one thousand piece puzzle. shooting goals. winning.

“hm? oh yeah… i know, i just, you’re just…” his hands dance over the figure of your hips and his fingertips press into the dips of them— debating on grabbing them or pushing you back onto the bed so he can pin them to the sheets. “just really wet. so wet. did i get you this wet?”

he says it like he’s surprised about having this much command over your body. though it’s not your first time, it’s one of the first few times he’s had you like this since you’ve gotten together. but you’d assumed yoichi knew the impact he had on you.

“only you, chi. you always do.” lifting a leg and keeping your balance, you lay your thigh over the man’s muscular shoulder— giving him the perfect view of your silken slit, the way it drips like liquid gold and glistens like a diamond in the rough. you’re spread apart, splayed out like a five course meal for your boyfriend and all he can do is stare.

“fuck…”

you feel his breath, light and warm like an ocean breeze between your thighs— coasting over the heartbeat that’s crawled it’s way slow from your chest, into your bloodstream and straight to your clit.

“yoichi—“ you’re about to beg, hands in the thick black of his hair— messing it up because you know it sends shivers down his spine, for isagi to know that he’s needed. a part of something, a part of your pleasure.

but he cuts you off, voice dipped in honey and eyes spiralling with a boastful ego like he’s highly aware that he has what it takes to make you fall to pieces. “i want your pussy on my face, precious.” he says thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing with the viscosity of his words. “wanna taste her, want her juices all over me…”

“then why haven’t you—“

“wanted to figure out how,” isagi cuts you off again, leaning forward and pressing his rosebud-pink tongue flat to the length of your core. he doesn’t dare move it, instead drags his head up as if he’s nodding, the motion causing the pink muscle to slide between puffy folds and your nectar to drip right into his mouth.

you whine at the contact, balling up your fists in his hair— dragging the man by the scalp into your quivering cunt. “h-how?” he smiles into your core. “isagi don’t tease me.”

“i already know how to make you cum,” the striker explains cockily— the vibrations of his voice shooting straight to your clit, emptying your brain of any verbal feedback aside from mewls and sighs. isagi adds his fingers to the mix, long and slender, spreading you wide and sucking the essence that clings to your pussy lips up before it has a chance to leak. “know when you’re close, you always grab at my hair or my neck. know how much sweeter you get when you’re about to burst for me.”

looking up at you once more, with his fingers replacing his tongue, isagi presses a kiss to your soft tummy— smearing your slick along your skin. “this time i want to be better,” when he speaks, he follows along with the increased pitch of your voice and how it peaks. he pouts with you, coos sweetly like there’s popping candy spread across his tongue and curls his digits along the inside of your creamy walls until you break. “this time i want to do more for you, precious. i want to see you break.”

“yoichi…p-please!”

he dangles pleasure in front of you like it’s food and you’re an animal, starved— writing his signature against your g-spot with rough fingertips and you can do nothing but writhe against their flow.

“this time, precious, i wanna make you squirt.”

[chvoswxtch]

i'm not above begging. (1/?)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down.

warnings: mentions of drugs, cursing

word count: 2k

a/n: this was initially going to be one post but then I got carried away and suddenly was at 2,081 words (oops) so i'm thinking this is going to be at least 3 parts? i've been day dreaming about eddie munson since may & re-watching one tree hill and this idea popped in my head and i had to write it down. this is my first time writing in awhile, so i'm a little rusty. all feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

The tutoring center at Hawkins High was relatively quiet for a Thursday afternoon. After the winter finals wrapped up, things had slowed down quite a bit apart from the regulars that came in for their weekly sessions. But with spring break and final projects coming up in a few weeks, it was only a matter of time before students began flocking in desperately seeking help to reach a passing grade. That’s where I came in.

I had been working in the tutoring center since my sophomore year. Everyone always told me I was good at it because I was a very patient person, but I honestly really enjoyed it. Every time I could see a student starting to really get it, I could see that little light bulb go off in their brain, it made my chest swell with pride. 

I was organizing a few review tests when I felt something touch my shoulder. All the neatly stacked papers in my hands went flying, and a shrill scream ripped through my chest at the surprise intrusion. I clutched onto the open file cabinet that was beside me and whipped my head around, my wide eyes settling on the tall figure that stood in front of me.

Eddie Munson.

His large, ring-clad hands were immediately held up in surrender, a look of shock etched onto his own features. I was pretty sure his startled expression matched my own. 

“Whoa..easy there. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I uh..come in peace.”

There was a timid smile stretched at the corner of his mouth, his dark brows lightly furrowed as he studied my face. A solid minute passed before I realized I hadn’t moved. I was still in shock, and well, possibly having a heart attack. It wasn’t that I was scared of Eddie Munson, not like a lot of the student body at Hawkins High, I was just shocked to see him in the tutoring center. In the two and a half years that I’d worked here, I had never seen him. Not even once. 

I’d heard the rumors about his supposed “devil worshiping” club, and about how he was a “dangerous” known drug dealer. I never really bought into it though. Eddie and I had never really interacted before. We were in completely different classes, and social circles. He didn’t really hangout with anyone that wasn’t in his Hellfire club. But I had seen him a few times in passing, and saw the way he was when he interacted with his friends during lunch. Nothing about him screamed dangerous to me. I always thought he was just..different, and definitely had a flair for dramatics.

“Oh, no no, I’m sorry. You didn’t. I mean you did. But..only because I didn’t hear you come in.”

Once I could no longer hear my heart pounding in my ears, I tried my best to appear as casual as possible. Clearing my throat, I crossed my arms over my chest and peered up at him.

“Um what..can I help you with?”

Eddie shoved his large hands into his front pockets, cursing under his breath. He flashed me an apologetic smile and began to fish around in his back pocket before he retrieved a crumpled paper ball, raising it up into his fist victoriously with a grin. 

“Aha! Found it.” 

He unraveled the paper and did his best to smooth it out, flipping it upside down and clearing his throat dramatically.

“I am looking for…Y/L/N, Y/N.”

His head swiveled to survey the empty tutoring center before his large brown eyes met mine again with a kind smile. 

“Any chance you know where I can find them? It’s uh..kind of important.”

“Oh um well..that’s me. Hi.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand raised up to do an awkward wave. My cheeks instantly heat up with embarrassment. Hi? Seriously? That’s what you went with?

Eddie’s eyes wandered over my figure quickly, his eyes meeting mine once again with a quirk of his brow.

“Oh..well, that was easy.”

I stood there silently for a moment, lightly clenching my fists at my sides. This was the closest I had ever been to Eddie Munson before. I had never gotten to look at him properly, not up close like this. Why did I never notice how attractive he was? I didn’t feel scared in his presence. I just felt..nervous. But I wasn’t exactly sure why that was.

“Um so..why are you here? I meant..um, why are you looking for me?”

My voice came out higher than usual, and I instantly wanted to bang my head against the nearest heavy object. Eddie eyed me silently for a moment, sighing as he shoved the paper back into his pocket and pursed his lips. He twisted one of the large rings he wore around his index finger, his eyes darting around the tutor center before finally landing back on me.

“Okay, here’s the thing. You’re my last resort.”

“Oh.” 

“No no no, fuck. I didn’t-I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that..you’re my last option or anything, you’re just my last choice. Hope! I meant hope. Fuck. This is all coming out wrong.”

Eddie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff of exasperation. He quickly spun around on his heel and made a beeline for the door to the tutoring center and exited swiftly. I stood dumbfounded in place, staring at the spot he once occupied, trying to decipher what the hell had just happened. Suddenly the door to the tutoring center swung open and Eddie walked through with a playful grin on his lips, stopping directly in front of me.

“Let’s start over, shall we? You’re Y/N Y/L/N, tutor extraordinaire. I’m Eddie Munson, and I desperately need your services.” 

Placing one of his large hands on his stomach, he did a quick bow, and I couldn’t help but let a quiet giggle escape my lips. This seemed to catch his attention, as he looked up at me with a full blown grin, seemingly proud of himself for getting a laugh out of me.

“Wow, Eddie. I didn’t expect you to be so..formal?”

Eddie stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. An action that my brain has permanently burned into my memory.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you sweetheart. I need to graduate. I can’t stay in this shithole for another year. And as long as I can pull a D with Mrs. O’Donnell, I’m on track to finally get the fuck out of here. But, here’s the problem. I fucking hate her class. It’s so boring! I mean..I would literally rather watch paint dry. So technically, it’s not my fault I keep failing because if the class were, ya’know, a little more exciting, I might actually be able to pay attention. See, I'm a victim here, okay? A victim of this oppressive and soul crushing system that is Hawkins High. Now look, I have tried everyone. And I mean everyone, okay? Mrs. O’Donnell has assigned me every tutor known to humankind and they either flat out say no or just give up so I’m really banking on you here. And look, I’ll even pay you! I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear. Scouts Honor. Just please..please help me. I’m not above begging here. I will literally get on my knees right now and-”

“Eddie!”

My hands darted out to grab onto his biceps as he began to lower his body. The worn leather of his jacket felt soft under my fingertips. My eyes lingered over the various pins and additions he had added to it. The denim overtop was worn and faded, there were light tears and a few loose ends. I was quite impressed by it though, knowing that he had taken the time to put it together himself. I could tell how much work he had put into it, how much it meant to him.

“I’ll do it.”

“What? Really? Holy shit, you..you are a literal angel!”

I felt myself suddenly being lifted off the ground as a strong pair of arms wrapped around my waist. It took a second to register that Eddie Munson was hugging me. Not one of those awkward, half-hearted hugs you feel like you have to give. But a real hug. The kind of hug you give an old friend you haven’t seen in years. My hands gripped onto the shoulders of his jacket and I giggled at his excitement.

“Eddie, put me down! Please, I’m afraid of heights.”

He swiftly set me on my feet with a chuckle, taking a step back and beginning to wave his hands around dramatically.

“Sorry, sorry. I got carried away. Look uh, name your price. Whatever you want, I’ll pay it.”

“Eddie, you’re not paying me. It’s my job, I’m happy to help. I do have a few ground rules though.”

“Alright, sure. Lay ‘em on me.”

“First things first, you have to take this seriously. If we’re going to do this, I need you totally focused. No distractions during our sessions. I know you have your club, and I’ll be respectful of your time dedicated to that, but if you start falling behind and we need extra sessions, I need you to put your school work first. Second, please always be transparent with me. If you need a break, tell me. I don’t want to push you past your limit. If you’re going to be late, or there’s an emergency and you can’t make it, please let me know as soon as you can. And lastly, please don’t ask me to do your work. I’m here to help you, not do everything for you. Don’t even try to bribe me. The answer will be no. Deal?”

You’d be surprised how much I had to emphasize that last part. Over the years, so many people have tried to get me to just do the work for them. They didn’t see me as a resource. They saw me as a transaction. Surely the girl with straight A’s wouldn’t mind doing the work they can't be bothered with. The popular crowd was the worst about it. They thought their parent’s money and social status could buy them anything. Sometimes it made me angry whenever their words would replay in my head. But that anger usually subsided into hurt. Most of them couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name. I was just “tutor girl” to them.

But you’re so smart, it’ll be easy for you! I’ll make it worth your while. If you do my homework, I’ll invite you to the party this weekend. You can sit with us at lunch if you write this paper for me. I’ll put in a good word for you with one of the guys on the team. C’mon tutor girl, everyone has a price.

I wasn’t necessarily “popular”, but I definitely knew a lot of the popular kids. I was practically the reason some of them were able to still do extracurriculars. I spent most of the time in the tutoring center, and when I wasn’t doing that I was helping out with ‘The Weekly Streak’ school newspaper with Nancy Wheeler. Nancy and I had met towards the end of my sophomore year. I had interviewed for a spot on the paper after my guidance counselor had told me tutoring wouldn’t count as a “club activity” on my college applications. After my prolonged sulking, I decided the school paper was the lesser of all high school club evils. Nancy and I had instantly clicked, and had only gotten closer over the years. She and Robin were the only real friends that I had.

I held my hand out and looked up at Eddie with a shy smile on my lips, awaiting his answer. He cocked his head to the side slightly, eyeing me as if he was contemplating my conditions. Always a dramatic. Suddenly, a huge grin took over his mouth and his large hand captured mine. The warmth from his skin spread like wildfire all over my body and eventually settled in the pit of my stomach. My grip tightened slightly on his hand in reaction to the sensation. What the hell was that?

“Deal.”

[astupidweeb69]

Unrequited (Yandere! Ticci Toby x Reader) Part 7

Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 & Part 6

Next Chapters: Part 8, Part 9

Author’s Note: Sorry I haven't been able to update as frequently. I've been unusually busy with moving out of my old apartment and traveling. Also for some reason I was having a huge case of writer's block for this chapter. Feel like it's not the best, but I've rewritten it like three times now and I just want to post something already lmao.

I also wanted to let you all know that for non-consensual content in this story, the kind of stuff in this chapter and chapter 4 are as far as it's going to go. If there is any actual smut later on, it'll be consensual.

Cross-posted on my Ao3 account which I update quicker.

Warnings: Swearing. Non-consensual touching/groping/kissing. Toby is creepy and horny idk what to tell you. (3,061 words).

*********************************************

He should have seen this coming.

By now Toby realized he couldn’t control himself when it came to you. Everything involving this relationship never matched his expectations. It threw him for a loop, sometimes in a good way, and other times, like this one, in a bad way.

The only thing going through his head on the walk to your home was his apology, the gift he would bring you, and how you’d eventually forgive him. That you would no longer view him as a threat and finally see how ridiculous the whole situation was.

But that’s not what happened.

After countless hours of thinking about what to say, he found the perfect words to describe how he felt. A way to show you just how romantic he could be and convince you to stay with him.

However, all these lovely ideas had been shot down prematurely.

You didn’t even allow him to enter your home peacefully. Not giving him the chance to fucking speak. And he was so sure he had calmed down enough. Certain that he looked stable, approachable, and harmless. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t want to have to do the things he ended up doing.

But when you denied his feelings, told him to leave you alone, and tried to shut the door on him, what other choice did he have?

Sure, he hoped the two of you could have had a mature conversation. One that would end in a mutual understanding that you should continue seeing each other. And he would respect your boundaries this time, and not… touch you.

At least not a lot.

However, Toby made these promises to himself while he was on his own, desperate to do anything it took just to see you again. When he was sad, heartbroken, and feeling a bit gentler.

So, all these promises, all composure, completely flew out the window once he saw you. Saw how you reacted in horror at his very presence.  And the overwhelming fear of having another person he cared for leave him took over. Toby was willing to do anything it took for his restless nights full of loneliness and agony to end. To finally have someone for his own, a tenderness his life was lacking.

He had you in his grasp, and he was going to dig his claws in to ensure that would never change.

He just wanted to get closer. Feel your skin. Feel your body. Your love. Feel it all.

His heart was ready to burst, making him foam at the mouth like a rabid animal.

 And an animal he was.

 Watching you run flipped a switch in Toby’s brain. The chase. The prey. The thrill of hunting you down. The inevitability of his victory.

Being a proxy wasn’t just a fancy title after all.

Of course, you had no way of knowing what you were up against.

Though admittedly, neither did he.

He expected you to put up a fight. The months spent stalking you, and how you stood up to him before, made that much clear to him. What he didn’t expect was how well you’d do.

Not many people without prior experience can think through their actions under extreme stress. But here you were, opening the balcony, having him question whether you’d already escaped. Hiding in the closet, bursting out when his guard was down, wielding a baton of all things? How you caught his leg, almost pushing him off the second story?

And nothing compared to the look in your eyes, that twisted smile on your face whenever you managed to land a strike. Foolishly believing you gained the upper hand.

The expression you had made him so fucking intoxicated at that moment. The sadistic glee he knew all too well, usually worn by him, gracing your features instead.

And it looked good.

He could have pounced on you all over again. Rip off your clothes. Make you scream for a completely different reason.

There would be plenty of time for that later though.

After knocking you out, panic settled over him seeing the aftermath. The little dance the two of you shared left a mess and he wanted to clean it as quickly as possible. It was a bit sloppy, but he managed to get most of it back in order. Probably not to the full extent he should’ve.

But it was all so exciting. Toby could hardly contain his joy as he carried your limp body over his shoulder, holding that duffel bag he found in the closet full of some of the things he thought you might need.

He felt like a kid in a candy store, finally getting their treat.

And what a treat you were going to be.

 **********************************

 Here you were now, lying in his bed still unconscious. Tucked carefully under the covers, a bandage on your head he placed there after cleaning the wound where he struck you.

He couldn’t really bring himself to feel bad about it. You were with him now. Contained. Trapped. Everything he had done leading up to this didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that he had you. The end justifying the means.

While he waited for you to wake up, Toby rummaged through your things to pass the time.

Obviously, he took the baton. Ignoring the fact that a weapon like that was hard to come by it also held sentimental value. The thing had brought the two of you together. A tool used to subdue another, something he could use in the future to tame that wildness you seemed to have. Only as a last resort though.

And then there was that pair of little brass knuckles he found at the bottom of the bag. He got a good chuckle out of it, picturing a tiny version of you on a playground getting into skirmishes with other children. Then bringing out the weapon on your small fist. That must’ve been a sight to behold.

Toby lifted his head at the sound of his bedsheets moving.

You were shifting in your sleep. He got up from the wooden chair and walked over, thrilled at the possibility you’d be joining him in the waking world soon.

It was so hard being patient.

Standing at the bedside, he watched your steady breathing.

Your chest rising and falling.

Eyes closed.

So vulnerable… so unaware.

Completely at his mercy.

A shiver ran through his body. Uncontrollable urges and sexual thoughts raced through his head. Why was it always so hard to suppress them around you?

He licked his lips, drool leaking from the exposed gash on his cheek.

His arm hesitantly reached out, hand trembling. Glancing up, he shamefully checked your face, making sure you were still asleep.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right?

His hand grabbed your breast, giving it a harsh squeeze. He bit his lip trying his best to stifle a moan. His face was already turning red. It was too much for him to handle. They were so soft.

He tried to remember a time in his life when he touched someone else like this, but he came up empty. God, if he went any further, he was going to lose it.

You let out a small whimper, beginning to stir awake. Given the context, Toby interpreted the sound in a much more erotic way. Like you were subconsciously trying to egg him on. His breathing quickened; his hand still attached to that part of you as he clumsily tried to massage it. Trying to elicit more of those noises.

But you didn’t.

He was too careless.

It was impossible for him to gauge just how hard he was grabbing. Unable to know that it was painful.

Your eyes snapped open, and you let out a sudden, bloodcurdling scream.

Toby quickly jerked his arm away from you. His face was still flushed, rubbing the back of his head, acting like a kid that just got caught stealing cookies from a jar.

Not at all convincing.

You scrambled to the other side of the bed, attempting to get up and run out the room.

Toby made no effort to stop you. He knew you were still feeling the effects of your head wound. Your legs were shaking and threatening to collapse underneath you. Almost on cue, you fell forward not even making it to the door.

He snickered cruelly at the pathetic display.

It was adorable. You just looked so cute. So clumsy.

You turned your head looking back at him in fear.

Your fate rested in his hands. It made him feel powerful.

He cockily sauntered over, making a point to tower above you as you crawled on your knees back into a corner.

You formed your hands into fists, trying your best to get into a fighting stance, leaning halfway up on the wall.

A wicked grin formed on his face.

Was that supposed to be intimidating?

Please, you couldn’t even stand up! Much less actually defend yourself!

His shoulders shook, giggling uncontrollably.

Giggle soon escalating into a loud hysterical cackle.

He couldn’t help it.

It was hilarious.

 “You fucking creep!”

 He stopped.

Toby didn’t know how to feel watching your outburst. Was this anger bubbling up inside him? Shame? Fear? Amusement? Lust? He only knew that whatever it was, he was feeling it intensely. You looked so fucking mad at him, baring your teeth while gripping the sides of the walls trying to hoist yourself up.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it! You’re a total psycho!” You sneered. “I should have fucking killed you! Just hit you over and over with that baton!” He listened as you began throwing a bunch of crude insults at him, no longer putting sentences together.

Okay, he figured it out. He was angry.

Punching the wall next to him, his fist easily broke through the plaster, bits of white falling out as he retracted his arm back to his side.

You fell silent, eyes widening.

“Enough.” Toby snarled.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being called names. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow you to do it. You’re lucky he liked you so much. Anybody else would’ve been in for a world of hurt. But he could be patient with you. For now.

Breathing heavily to contain his rage, he attempted to collect himself. You’d gotten the message. He didn’t need to go further yet.

Looking down he saw your lower lip start to tremble. Your previous confidence starting to waver.

Despite this, you still managed to look him in the eye. It was only now he noticed that you always maintained eye contact when threatened. No matter how terrified you were. It was almost impressive.

And your stare was full of emotion. So much passion.

He searched for the words to describe the way your eyes sparkled. Especially with the tears threatening to spill from them.

Willful. Determined. Stubborn. Beautiful.

He smiled, his clenched fists relaxing.

Man, you really brought out a strange side of him.

“I uh-understand you’re probably a bit disoriented.” Toby playfully tapped his temple at the tiny mark where your baton hit him. “Head wuh-wounds can be kind of bitch, huh? Not that I wuh-would really know. But they can muh-make me a little woozy sometimes.” He joked.

It was kind of adorable now that he thought about it. You two having matching injuries on your heads. Sadly, it wouldn’t last. His head would fully heal, while yours would most likely leave a scar. But for the time being, it was like when couples wear matching outfits. Just more… extreme?

It was definitely on-brand for the relationship so far. Him, a killer. You, a feisty little thing with a tiny sadistic side he was dying to get to know more.

“You think…” He heard you swallow, blinking a couple of times as you were clearly trying to fight back some tears, “You think I’m just a little disoriented? You think that’s what’s happening right now? Why I’m upset?!”

Your voice was beginning to rise again. He needed to put a stop to it.

Toby knelt to your level, hearing you inhale sharply.

“Careful now, (Y/N), you better wuh-watch yourself. After all, I’ve buh-been really patient with you so far.”

His mouth curled into a shit-eating grin. Using the same words you said to him that night you tried to kick him out of your home made him feel confident now. All the mistakes he made leading up to this moment weren’t important. It was over. He didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to panic that you’d stop talking to him, and even if he did something that he knew bothered you, or fucked up, it’s not like you could leave.

Toby watched you process his words. You were looking more agitated by the minute, his threats being the only thing stopping you from insulting him again.

He was a bit of a tease; he could admit that.

Though in a weird turn of events, you flashed him a wry smile staring intently at his nose.

It took him a second to remember how you’d taken a swing at it earlier. It was probably still a little bruised and swollen. He’d almost forgotten about it after he set it back in place. You clearly didn’t.

Tilting your head to the side, an attractive smile spread across your face. He blushed, stomach fluttering.

“You know Toby…” You batted your lashes, making him move his face closer to yours in anticipation. “Has anybody ever told you that you have a very punchable face?”

He frowned. That wasn’t where he thought this conversation was going.

“No!” Toby faked an enthusiastic tone. “Anyone that puh-punches me typically doesn’t live long enough to tuh-talk about it!”

The muscles in his face started twitching. He was pissed. Maybe he’d been a bit too lenient before by only threatening you with words.

He roughly grabbed your chin in one hand, his other arm picking you up by the waist, forcing your entire body to lean on his.

He could feel you trembling, your breath shaky as he scanned your face. You stared back, eyeing him with apprehension.

Toby relished the little gasp you made as he smashed his lips against yours. They felt soft compared to his chapped ones. The texture and open sores around his scar smearing crimson on your skin.

He bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Ignoring your cries of pain, Toby pulled on it with his teeth, sucking on the wound to get a taste.

Finally releasing your mouth, he admired how the beads of blood from the cut dribbled down your chin.

The metallic flavor lingered on his tongue. Familiar to him from the constant chewing of his flesh, now the result of your blood and his mixing together as one.

It was romantic in a way.

With a vice-like grip, Toby dragged you by the arm out of the bedroom and into the common area. You thrashed in his hold, scratching his arm and kicking his shins. But it was all in vain. He tossed you onto the ratty couch like a ragdoll and stood menacingly in front of you.

“I duh-don’t want to hurt you. But if you kuh-keep acting up I won’t hesitate to.”

He struggled to think of his next moves. On the one hand, he was upset you kept insulting him and wanted to punish your bad behavior. At the same time, he didn’t want you to be completely terrified of him. It was a difficult balancing act. Even more so considering all the different feelings he had right now.

You sat upright on the couch, staring at him while taking in your surroundings. The gears in your head were turning, and Toby could see the exact moment you realized you had no idea where you were.

The only thing outside the windows were trees that stretched on with no end. Nothing but branches and plant life at every angle. The middle of nowhere.

That might have been why you were acting this way, he noted. You hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet. Sure, you’d woken up in an unfamiliar place, but you were probably so scared and disoriented you didn’t realize you were completely isolated from civilization. That he hadn’t just taken you to some apartment in town. He had taken you someplace that made escaping impossible.

“Where… are we?” You sounded meek, barely even audible.

Toby smiled. Now you understood. “Home. Where you’ll buh-be staying from now on.”

Your face twisted in confusion, body tensing at his answer. “What?”

He didn’t respond. He wanted to watch you squirm a bit first.

Clearly, the silence was making you uneasy.

“What… is it that you want from me? Why are you doing this? Are you going to kill me?”

The last question came as a surprise. Why would you think something like that? Sure, he hasn’t been a total saint around you, but he never thought he left the impression that he wanted you dead.

He reached out his hand, disregarding how you flinched at his touch and began caressing your cheek.

“Why would I kuh-kill you? I want you (Y/N). I wuh-want everything from you. For you to stay here with muh-me. For us to be together. You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. I’ll muh-make sure of it.” His heart started to beat faster, excited to express the thoughts he’s been having for months. “I juh-just know once you come around, you’ll see that we wuh-were made for each other.”

You looked at him in utter disbelief. “How could you possibly think that? We literally just met.”

Toby scoffed. “I’ve buh-been keeping tabs on you for a while. I thought you figured thuh-that out. Seeing how you huh-haven’t left your house in weeks.” He continued after you only stared back at him in horror. “I knuh-know you don’t know me very well. But I know you. And after we spend more time together, you’ll understand wuh-what I’m saying. I know you will. You’re smart.”

He sighed, smiling longingly.

That wonderful feeling, the intense rush he always had in your presence, washing over him.

 Now he could finally say what he wanted to all along.

 “I love you, (Y/N).”

[bougiebutchbitch]

PASM story question: we obviously get the supreme moment of Kakashi realizing his crush in chp 2, when did Gai figure out his crush?

Oooooh, good question! I think the roots have been there for a very long time - I very much interpret Gai as seeing Kakashi as his childhood sweetheart! But at what point did Gai realise just what he was feeling?

I think it was the first time he won against Kakashi. The first time he truly believed that he would one day stand beside him as an equal.

Gai always promised that he would be a great ninja. He works towards that end goal, every single day. And he does believe it! He does! It's just - Kakashi's so far ahead. Everyone says there's no point trying.

Yet here they are in Training Ground 3, where they've spent every afternoon this week.

Gai: panting, fists clenched, sweat clumping his fringe.

Kakashi: on his back in the dirt, looking a little offended about it.

They were working with Taijutsu only, on Kakashi's insistence. Gai knows this isn't a real victory. Kakashi is just being kind, by giving him a chance. But even with that handicap, Gai has lost every single time before.

Not today, though.

Kakashi recovers quickly. He hops up to his feet, squaring up, eyes narrow and cold.

"Again," he says.

Gai has won before, but only in non-combat challenges. Who can eat the most dango. Who can write mission reports fastest. Jan Ken Pon. Kakashi usually just shrugs like he couldn't care less and walks away. This time, it seems he wants a rematch.

This is new, this is special. Gai nods, his grin bright as the splash of blood on his bust lip.

"Yosh! I will give you a chance to even the score!"

Sure enough, Kakashi evens it, with interest. Gai peels himself out of the tree he was kicked into, wheezing hard. Pain throbs out from the impact point, where the sole of Kakashi's sandal met his sternum with as much force as the average chidori.

Gai loves it. His grin is brighter and bloodier than ever.

He raises his fists, and his eyebrows. "Again?"

Kakashi sighs, hands in his pockets - that's his rival; always the epitome of cool! "You don't know when to quit, do you."

"Indeed, never giving up is my Nindo! And - look, I beat you, once! I'm improving."

"Lucky fluke," says Kakashi.

That stings. Gai lets it. Swallows it down, squashes that snide jab down into his belly, along with all the rest. Subjects it to immense heat and pressure until it turns to diamond.

"Ha! You wish, rival! Let me prove otherwise!"

Kakashi blinks at him, and though his eyes are still lazy half-moons, Gai gets the sense he's being studied with as much intensity as Kakashi usually gives those awful books he carries around. "Sure," he says. "Whatever."

It's a draw. Almost. Gai holds out as long as he can, but when his vision goes grainy and gray at the edges, he slaps three times at the arm locked around his throat. Kakashi lets up immediately - to which Gai ceases his attempt to reverse the wrestling hold, and flops out starfished on the ground.

"You win," he croaks, and he can't quite keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Good match, rival."

There's silence for a few seconds. Kakashi moves back, just far enough to put an inch of space between them, but not so far that Gai can't hear the faint rasps of his breath. Elevated. That's something. At least he's improved enough that he makes Kakashi work up a sweat.

Gai expects him to leave without another word. Yet he lingers, his shadow falling over Gai, his face unreadable in a way Gai can't blame on that ever-present mask. Gai eases gingerly to sit.

"I guess you were right," he offers, as Kakashi seems disinclined to conversation. "It was just lucky fluke this time - "

"No."

"But I will make it my mission to ensure that the next time I defeat you in battle, it is on the merit of my own skill, and - " Gai's mouth catches up with his brain. "Um. No?"

"No," Kakashi repeats. Now he pushes to stand, glaring out away from Gai. Speaking less to him, more to the cliffs of Konoha that eclipse the distant, wooded horizion. "It wasn't a fluke. You're better than you used to be."

Anyone else, Gai might presume they were lying to spare his pride. But Kakashi doesn't do that. Which means...

"You mean that? Rival?"

Kakashi turns his back on him fully. "Well, you couldn't exactly get worse."

Gai laughs. He's not wrong.

He still thinks of that day often - one of their earliest encounters, when Kakashi saved him from the chuunin who'd been punching him because they were scared, for all their cruel words, to punch his father. When Gai hadn't bothered to fight back.

He fights back now. Every day of his life. It's his Nindo, his drive, his determination - but here, looking up at Kakashi, silhouetted against the evening sun, he realises just how much his rival has helped to forge that Will of Fire in his chest.

Kakashi makes him better. He makes him want to be stronger, faster, more. Gai can't imagine life without him. Even as their classmates fell around them in the war, even when Kakashi lost everything - then lost it again, then again, then again - Gai couldn't comprehend the thought that Kakashi might one day be gone, too.

He wants to do this forever. He wants to be by Kakashi's side for forever. He's been saying as much since they were children.

But now, for the very first time, he looks at Kakashi's tense back and thinks about how much he'd like to run his hand down it, rather than driving his fist into his kidneys. What must it be like, to feel that tightness melt away? To feel all of Kakashi, hard and cold as his kunai, soften under his hands?

And - oh. Is this what papa told him about?

When you find your special people, you will know. You will know that you will do anything to protect them. They will make you stronger, because of your love.

Right now, Gai feels stronger than ever.

"I'll improve," he tells Kakashi, striving to sound mature and sincere, rather than giddy as the bubbles gathering inside his chest. Kakashi dislikes any overt displays of affection; Gai can't do as his heart demands, and shout from the rooftops of Konoha that for the first time in his life, he's in love. He'll save all revelations on that topic for tonight, when he visits his father's grave. To Kakashi, he just says - "I promise. You're my eternal rival, after all."

Kakashi gives him the tiniest grunt of affirmation and body-flickers away. Leaving Gai to flop back dreamily on the pulverised dirt of Training Ground 3, dry blood crusting his nostrils, and sigh.

This is a flash fic & entirely unedited, etc. dsfklghsdghskjdg

Plz excuse any errors T^T

[little-lynx]

It's good to see different opinions🦿 I've always thought it was removable since Peeta was only 16 when he lost his leg, so it would be easier to change when he hit a growth-spurt, than if he had to surgically remove it to get a new one. I'd love to see your post on it though!🦿🦿🦿

Hello! Well, I agree with you, that was one of the reasons why I was hesitant about it but still I kinda tend to think it’s non-removable. I just think that with all capitol’s technologies that should not be a problem (see my take below). Why I think it’s non-removable:

1. Caesar asks Peeta how his “new leg” is working out. I don’t know, maybe that’s my non-English speaking brain but “new leg” sounds like something constant, that would be there forever. Not just some prosthesis that can be replaced by another one anytime you want. Lol. I don’t know, maybe that’s stupid. Also “artificial replacement” (CF.ch.15) sounds like something constant too (for me lol).

2. Katniss is absolutely ok with describing Peeta’s leg. She pays attention to it. She describes how it looks like (metal and plastic device, THG, ch.27), she watches how Peeta “positions” it while sitting next to her (CF, ch.5), she notices if he moves it strangely (The foot of his prosthetic leg taps out a strange irregular beat, MJ, ch.9). So I’m ABSOLUTELY sure she would mention him removing it at least once. If it’s removable I’m 100% sure his stump would be awfully sore during Victory Tour (all this dancing!) and he would put it off at night. Katniss would mention it, right (since he slept with her mmmm)? Also he would need to remove it during taking a shower but she didn’t let him go to his room (where some rails would be added to his shower for sure) and was absolutely ok with that (no thoughts and hesitations about his leg and taking a shower at her compartment). Also! I’m sure she would think about his leg during Quarter Quell (and before, during training days), like, how Peeta would remove it at the arena where danger could be everywhere? She mentioned his leg during acid fog running but that’s all. I think she would be so alarmed during the time he removed it at arena but she never mentioned it. Which means he never removed it during QQ. That’s weird? They had plenty of time to do it since there were a lot of people as allies. Hm?

3. It never mentioned in the MJ. Only when it’s foot taps out irregular beat (can be unpredictable reaction to torture since this part of his body is foreign (it’s faaaaaaar fetched but I like this cyberpunk take lol) during one of interviews. But never again. Why if it’s removable Snow let him use it during his prisoning? It would be great part of a torture to let him live like a cripple and I think someone would mention it if it was a case. There is no mention of his leg during his time in d13 and he is in full control of it during star squad mission. It’s just part of his body. Artificial - yes, removable? I don’t know. But it doesn’t feel like it. At Mockingjay at all.

4. Katniss assumed that Chaff could get “artificial replacement” for his arm (“I'm sure they offered him some artificial replacement, like they did Peeta when they had to amputate his lower leg, but I guess he didn't take it.” CF, ch.15) and well, we already (here in 2021) have those artificial arms that are non-removable and connected to the nerves and receive signals from brain. So it’s obvious that Capitol would offered Chaff this kind of prosthetic arm (right?) sooooo “like they did [offered] Peeta” sounds like this could be the same technology soooooooo it could be all super cool technology and non-removable lol. Yeah, that’s a bit far fetched but somehow I got this feeling while reading this part.

Well, that’s only my head canon and I’m absolutely ok if you don’t agree with my maybe laughable reasons. Maybe I also missed some hints. And I’m absolutely ok if it’s removable and I love fics that are detailed about Peeta’s leg and it’s removing and have Katniss’ reaction to this and talking about this and… ok, you got the point :) I love Peeta’s artificial leg! ❤️

What do you think guys? ;)

[tommyspeakycap]

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

19

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."